About Me

No one truly knows when it all begins. Every action we take and every path we choose may have been set into motion long before we even realized it—perhaps by our parents, grandparents, or, if you believe in such things, by the echoes of past lives. The seeds of our journey are sown either by us or by those who came before us. I was born into a Hindu Brahmin family rooted in tradition and orthodoxy. My parents were deeply religious, and our home was always filled with rituals, prayers, and countless Gods in every corner. It often felt like a small sacred museum. My parents never missed their morning and evening rituals, and for the first 14 years of my life, I followed their lead, though never with the same intensity. I was the kind of child who often looked the other way when told to do something. Still, curiosity was always there. One day, I saw my father in a strange posture, twisting his body in a way I had never seen before. I asked if he was alright, and he smiled and said he was practising Yogasana. At that time, I didn’t fully understand what he meant, but something about it stayed with me. My brother and I started imitating him, sometimes to tease him and sometimes to show off our flexibility. We laughed, stretched, and copied what we saw, not knowing that something much deeper had already begun. Later, through conversations with my father, I came to know that he had learned these practices from his father, and my grandfather from his father before him. That was when I realised this was not just a random routine. It was a legacy. From then on, I began to see yoga differently. Things changed when my elder brother, who was my yoga partner in crime, left for higher studies in another state. Without him, the practice lost some of its fun, and my own effort became irregular and half-hearted. Then came a festival. Like many Hindu festivals, it was full of stalls selling things from temples, forests, mountains, and villages—ritual items, books, handmade goods, and all kinds of mysterious objects. Among them, I found books on Tantra. I believe that was the beginning of my fascination with Tantra. The mystical, the unseen, the impossible-looking side of life attracted me deeply and pushed my curiosity even further. I would read those books, chant the mantras, and visit temples dedicated to different deities, half believing that what I saw in those pages might reveal itself to me in real life. That thrill of the unknown kept me moving forward. I wanted to know what was real and what was not. I am still on that journey. Maybe I am no closer to the final answers, but I am still searching. It feels like a treasure hunt happening somewhere deep inside, on a subconscious level—a journey that began long ago with seeds planted by those who came before me. After that initial spark, my search for truth became deeper. I sought out gurus, visited ashrams, and travelled to the Himalayas looking for answers that always felt just beyond reach. But despite all this, I remained restless. At some point I felt disheartened and returned to the so-called “real world,” where I pursued a Master’s degree in Computer Science. But even then, the spiritual search never really left me. I kept visiting ashrams, and during one of those visits I came across Kriya Yoga. It was through Kriya Yoga that I was formally introduced to Kundalini and the safer ways of approaching it. By then, I had come to feel that no matter how much one reads or practises, if the inner system is not balanced, everything can feel incomplete. For me, Kundalini became an important key in understanding spiritual progress. During my practice, there were moments that felt mystical, as if I was touching something deeper. But my journey was never steady. It was full of ups and downs, and I was easily influenced by my surroundings. For many years, I kept falling into the same pattern—I would practise yoga, pranayama, and meditation sincerely for a few months, and then drift back into ordinary life: working, eating, drinking, dancing, travelling, and forgetting. In 2015, my passion for yoga came back strongly. I had grown tired of the monotony of everyday life and felt it was finally time to invest in proper training and take teaching seriously. Until then, I had never received formal education in yoga. I enrolled in a university known for Yoga Therapy, where I had the opportunity to assist yoga teachers and doctors in treating patients with different health conditions. It was there that I realised that even if I never became a doctor in the conventional sense, yoga asana and pranayama still had the power to support healing in ways I had not understood before. To deepen my practice further, I completed both 200-hour and 300-hour teacher training courses at a school in the foothills of the Himalayas. The mountains always called me in a strange way, as if some part of me belonged there. After returning, I began teaching in Pune. Teaching brought me a deep sense of fulfilment, but it also made me realise how much more there was to learn. Then this journey took an unexpected pause. During a hike in the Himalayas, I injured the back of my leg badly. Doctors suggested surgery and advised me to limit my yoga practice. That phase shook me deeply. Along with the injury, my passion for teaching and helping others also seemed to collapse for a while. After moving to the Netherlands, I took up part-time jobs and considered going back to my old IT career, even though I had no real interest in it. At the same time, I focused on healing my leg. I wanted to be able to run, skateboard, surf, and move freely again. Slowly, after a long period of struggle and self-treatment, things began to improve. I found my way back to yoga little by little. Even while dealing with a weak meniscus, LCL issues, and a wrist that had seen better days, I slowly regained strength in my practice. And with that, the desire to help others also started returning. I was born with a different name. Devaansh is my spiritual name which may mean - Part of the Divine - A portion of God - Divine part n that way, I feel we all are Devaansh Continuing...