18/04/2026
I got found out ...
It was a cold October morning, the year 1983 I had been watching the news the night before, there had been a large protest march in London, Trident a nuclear programme in pretext for de-escalation of war and at the same time we were the studying the text 1984 by George Orwell in our
'O' Level Literature class, the novel grasped my mind of its rebellious nature.
At that time, I had some terrorising dreams where I was witnessing a huge explosion from some distance then a large plume of ash smoke, had woken me with a racing heart and troubled mind. We all know that well known vision of Hiroshima and Nagasaki, the child burned, running half naked. These are chilling visions that have impregnated our psyche.
A combination of my environment and conscious mind had led me to participate in an unlawful act of graffiti on the school walls.
An act of defiance, my soul speaking to me of the unease and troubled feelings deep down, surfacing into what what thought would be a secretive action. My hands trembling as I chalked the walls at the back of the upper school with a huge circular movement to make the CND motif (The Campaign for Nuclear Disarmament).
I had looked over my shoulder several times to make sure I was not seen. I had not confided in any of my friends, I was unable to explain or express how I was feeling. I just felt troubled, my heart stolen, a raw ache for harmony and peace. I felt horrible on the inside, not from the actions but how the environment made me feel.
Later from my learning in yoga I found the battle to find my steadiness was within, as the song goes, we have nowhere to run and nowhere to hide, any escapism is temporary and we quickly go back to our old patterns of thoughts.
I was scratching the walls carefully over the rugged bricks with chalk acquired from my last English Language lesson, when Mr Broughton had thrown the chalk at Daniel. I recalled the lesson when the teacher had demeaned me in class with racist comments, reducing me to tears. School was not always the happiest of days …
The chalk now a stub, as I was about to etch in the third line. I felt I had every right to show my solidarity for peace, in this way. My breath falling into silence, facing the wall I noticed a shadow through my legs and then suddenly, a tap on my shoulder, it was Mr Kellogg the headmaster.
What were the chances, an unbelievable stroke of bad luck! Even to this day, I question how unlucky I was, my mission was supposed to have been swift. The back of the school being a popular spot allegedly a secret locus for smokers, snoggers and scrappers. So, I never went there. I felt robbed of my defiance and my moment of anarchy for a cause worth fighting reduced to a chastisement without being able to speak my truth, he shook his head looking at me as if I was the enemy.
I felt the pit of my stomach fill with dread, I did not know what would happen next, corporal punishment was still a possibility back then! My shoulders and head dropped, I felt a streak of guilt running into my body for my actions but not in my soul, my deeper self-longed for something else. My act of defiance infiltrated, my heart desire disturbed. Mr Kellogg did not ask any questions and bluntly said, “I have a job for you, come to my office.” There he handed me a sponge and bucket and curtly said “Clean the walls.”
During our yoga training our teacher, maintained the importance to remain apolitical. In principle I have done so as it allows the mind to remain settled, but it does not mean that one becomes robotic, really the opposite happens as your deeper parts of yourself are revealed. No longer hiding as your heart starts winning and the liberation of your soul starts unfolding and then you do not care so much about what people think of you, social expectations and start realising that we are all made of the same particles as the trees and the oceans, gathering a momentum where we can approach our self-realisation little by little, seeing the pulse of the universe mirroring our heartbeat as yoga is an expression of your deepest truest self.
When was the last time you followed your heart and not your head?
