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Taj Maha
- University of Wisconsin Press
- Chapter
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49 TAJ MAHAL Theyogateacher’sbonesarepure asunbleachedcotton,thestuff ofyogamats,asifshebuilds herselffromscratch everyTuesdayattheY. TheteachermovesfromCat toDownwardFacingDog,remindingme thatIndia’sarealplacewherestrays outnumberpets.WhenmycousinBeth camebackfromtheAssemblyofGod MissionStationinCalcutta, shewaslightasastrawhat, andscary-skinny.IwonderedifJesus wouldevergiveherheartback. ShebroughtmeasoapstoneTajMahal, butshedidn’twanttotalk, thoughshepromisedto“keepme inherprayers.” HowcouldIsaynothanks? SomeTuesdayswhenIfail totouchmyheadtomyknees, Bethveersintoview,acousin drowningintheburningGanges, agrowngirlwhoseDNAisshorn ofitshumanstrands,likeanangel inacathedral,thekindwithblank stoneeyeballs.IfIdoyogaforweeks, myhandswillfinallyreachmytoes andI’llknowwhatIalreadyknow: prayersaren’tcages,tombs,orfridges, andnoonecankeepusthere, becausewe’re—allofus—moving fromDogtoBirdtoAir. ...