Yoga,my father and the 1970's

 Born in the spiritual city of Varanasi, India, my father lived in an ashram and immersed himself in the teachings of yoga, Ayurveda, and philosophy from an early age. When he arrived in New York in 1970, he brought with him a wealth of knowledge rooted in the traditions of Hatha Yoga.

He was more than a teacher—he was a guide who believed that yoga was not just about asanas (postures) but a journey into the depths of self-discovery. His classes combined physical practice with breathing techniques (pranayama) and storytelling, where he would weave in the rich tapestry of Hindu mythology and philosophy.

Some of my earliest memories are of sitting cross-legged beside him as he recounted the tales of gods and goddesses, their dramas, and their triumphs. Our small apartment on West 80th Street became a sanctuary for his students—a place filled with the aroma of herbal powders, the vibrant colors of his friends’ turbans, and the warmth of his laughter.

My father’s presence in New York contributed to the growing interest in yoga during the transformative years of the 1970s, a time when the counterculture movement was eager to explore alternative ways of living and healing.

While my father was one of many Indian teachers who brought yoga to the West, his focus on Hatha Yoga was unique. Hatha Yoga, with its emphasis on physical postures, breath control, and cleansing practices, offered a holistic approach that resonated deeply with New Yorkers.

This style of yoga, which dates back centuries, is not merely a physical practice. It is a pathway to harmonizing the body, mind, and spirit—a means of preparing oneself for deeper meditation and introspection. My father often reminded his students that the true essence of yoga lay in self-inquiry, balance, and transformation.

The 1970s marked a pivotal era for yoga in New York. As the counterculture movement embraced spirituality and wellness, yoga studios began to flourish. My father’s teachings became a cornerstone for many seeking both physical vitality and a deeper connection to themselves.

Swami Harihar Das was part of a larger wave of Indian teachers who influenced New York’s yoga scene during this time, alongside figures like Swami Satchidananda and B.K.S. Iyengar. His classes emphasized asanas for strength and flexibility, pranayama to calm the mind and energize the body, kriyas (cleansing rituals) to purify and detoxify, and stories and discussions that bridged traditional Indian wisdom with modern life. His ability to make ancient teachings accessible to New Yorkers left an indelible mark on the yoga community.

For me, yoga is not just a practice—it is a legacy. My father’s life and work continue to inspire everything I do. His teachings remind me that yoga is more than postures on a mat; it is a way of living, thinking, and being. I remember watching him teach with humility and passion, his voice steady and grounding. His students left each class not just with stronger bodies but with a sense of clarity and peace. This approach to yoga—the weaving together of physical, mental, and spiritual practices—is a tradition I feel compelled to carry forward.

Today, yoga in New York is as diverse as the city itself. From the foundational principles of Hatha Yoga, new styles have emerged, including Vinyasa Yoga, with its dynamic flows, Ashtanga Yoga, rooted in discipline and structure, and Restorative Yoga, focusing on relaxation and healing. While the yoga scene has evolved, the principles my father taught—balance, breath, and self-awareness—remain at its core. His teachings remind us that yoga is not about chasing perfection in a posture but about the journey inward.

As I write this, I feel an immense gratitude for my father’s work and the path he paved. Swami Harihar Das brought more than yoga to New York; he brought a philosophy of life that continues to touch and transform those who practice it.

In sharing his legacy, I hope to inspire future generations of yogis to see beyond the postures and embrace yoga as a way to connect with their innermost selves. His teachings remind us that yoga is not just a practice—it is a way of life, a tradition that, when nurtured, has the power to heal and unite.

~Shanti Freedom Das