Every graduate leaves Rishikesh with a story. Soon after their training ends, many sit down and try to put it into words — the garden, the fire altar, the teachers, the person they became. This page is that message, written in one voice that belongs to many names.
Soon After · The Words Come
It rarely happens in a dramatic moment. More often it happens quietly — lying on the grass in Savasana, one ordinary morning — when a student suddenly understands what all the practice was for.
The boundaries between my body and the atmosphere around me were disappearing. The weight of my body was sinking onto the ground. My fingers felt the porous earth, and I could feel the moisture nurturing my skin. Roots formed, and I built a solid foundation on the earth. They grew through the gaps between my fingers, embracing the sunshine and yielding to the storms. The plant which once was little now touched the sky. It bore fruits and flowers while my mind stayed awake, aware, settled back. I was one with nature.
Before this, I saw the daylight. I was in the garden with ten other students and our yoga teacher, discussing the state of stillness without becoming lost in the mind. Within a few seconds I was lying on the ground, and I entered the abode of the innate inner presence. That Savasana class made me realise a feeling which is truly hard to express — the moment I truly felt how yoga makes a difference.
“The warm sun deepened my poses, the natural spring reminded me to stay hydrated, and the fresh breeze gave a turn to my perspective — while a small butterfly in the garden invited me to learn how to focus on something small.”
Being at Adhiroha for yoga teacher training in Rishikesh intensified my learning in ways I did not expect. It plucked me out of a worn-out garden and planted me in a climate of love and perseverance. I discovered myself. Adhiroha always asked me to stay present and breathe deeply — and somewhere between the routine of walking from my room to class and back, I found instantaneous freedom.
What follows is my attempt to explain why this place is an investment every person who wants to learn yoga should make.
A campus without space to breathe can never hold deep learning. Adhiroha is set on vast green land, each building standing apart from the next, the whole ashram painted in neutral colours that quiet the mind. And the walk from the gate to the dining hall passes, one by one, through the five elements themselves.
Walk in and you first meet the divine statue of Lord Shiva, resting under the shade of a little hut. For us, Shiva is the very first element — space, the universe, the primal Atman of all that exists. Bow to him, and move forward.
Four stairs lead to a long corridor facing the garden — trimmed hedges, vines of Bougainvillea, and grass underfoot. The corridor opens into spacious, light-filled rooms; the residential building houses at most twenty-four students, so the ashram never feels crowded.
“I guess it must be the flag of my disposition, out of hopeful green stuff woven.” — Walt Whitman, on grass
On elevated ground stands the sacred fire altar. On Day one we gather here for Yagya — to purify the subtle environment, burn away the pollution of the atmosphere, and unfold peace for everyone living on the premises.
Facing the fire altar, to your right, is the shala — a large open central space under a solid metal roof, its walls made of massive glass windows with a panoramic view. Shelves of mats and props line the room, and the air carries the sounds of the forest into every practice.
Back past the shala door, stairs lead down to a natural water spring. It has a unique ability — the sound of it pauses the train of thoughts and pulls your awareness gently into the present moment.
Down the slope sits the dining space, bounded on three sides and open on the fourth to deep forest, inviting fresh air all day long. The kitchen serves sattvic, primarily plant-based organic food — food that purifies the mind and becomes part of pure consciousness.
Painted in neutral colours and wrapped in birdsong, the campus helps every attendee reach that first degree of concentration — an enabling environment for reflection, introspection and healing.
Yoga is a lifelong journey, and the teacher who guides you on it is a key part of it. One teacher teaching every subject neglects deep, fundamental knowledge — so Adhiroha follows a simple formula, and it changes everything.
Each acharya is highly qualified in one particular domain — philosophy, anatomy, pranayama, asana — and teaches only that. You learn every subject from someone who has gone all the way down into it.
Yoga is realisation — of how you move, where you feel the stretch, how you breathe. These classes teach the correct way in and out of every posture, deepening its benefits and preventing injury.
You do not just practise — you design and conduct real classes during your training, building an integrated teaching approach you will carry into your own classrooms for years.
The teachers here are patient in a way that is hard to describe — they instinctively know when you are ready for the next challenge, and they make sure your practice keeps evolving instead of stagnating. Classes run on practical activities, interactive sessions, even games. You are guided, never pushed.
“I’m now a yoga teacher. What I learned in Adhiroha has stayed with me — and will continue to do so.”
During my journey I realised how much it matters to be in the right environment, under the guidance of proficient teachers, in the company of like-minded classmates. I don’t have one name — I am the voice of many alumni of Adhiroha, and of you, who is listening to me right now.
Aum Namaha Shivaya
The Voice of Many Alumni
Every message on this page began the same way — with one person deciding to come to Rishikesh. Choose your course, spend a month on this green hillside, and see what you find yourself writing soon after.