The Anti-Yogi reviewed 510 words, 3 minutes read time.
Mayuri Bhandari’s latest performance is part rallying cry, part spiritual challenge, and wholly engaging theatre. It does far more than showcase yoga as a physical practice—it digs deep into its philosophical roots, confronting the audience with uncomfortable but necessary questions. Bhandari places the principles of truthfulness and non-violence at the centre, not as abstract ideals but as urgent, living demands. She challenges us to consider whether these tenets survive intact in their Western incarnations, or whether they have been compromised, commodified, and stripped of their original depth. Her presence on stage radiates conviction, making it impossible to leave without questioning our own relationship to authenticity.
From the opening moments, it is clear that physicality is at the heart of this work. Bhandari moves with an astonishing blend of grace and power—one moment her gestures are fluid, almost meditative; the next, they are sharp, deliberate, and charged with the energy of Kali herself. Her dance is not simply a visual accompaniment to her words but an extension of them, embodying themes of resistance, destruction, and renewal. She engages the audience not just with what she says but with what she shows us through her body—every pose, turn, and gaze is deliberate, rooted in centuries-old traditions yet alive with contemporary urgency.
The live percussion from Neel Agrawal gives the performance an additional pulse—sometimes steady and grounding, sometimes urgent and insistent. His drumming doesn’t dominate; it listens and responds. There’s a visible and unspoken rapport between him and Bhandari, each reading the other’s energy in real time. This connection creates a sense of ritual unfolding before our eyes, where sound and movement merge into a single, living language. The rhythms carry the audience through the performance’s shifting emotional landscapes, from moments of fierce defiance to quiet, reflective stillness.
Traditional Indian elements are woven throughout, not as decorative tokens but as integral to the narrative. Reflections on Kali’s role in social justice give the work both gravitas and edge, allowing Bhandari to explore the goddess’s dual nature as destroyer and liberator. She uses this to confront the contradictions in how yoga is practised and sold in the West—how a tradition that calls for selflessness can become a lifestyle brand; how a path to liberation can be packaged in Lululemon bags. Humour cuts through the intensity at just the right moments, never diluting the message but reminding us that joy and resistance can coexist.
By the final moments, the audience has not only been entertained but invited into a process of reflection—about cultural appropriation, decolonisation, and the kinds of communities we wish to build. Bhandari’s performance is both a call to action and an act of preservation, reclaiming yoga’s ethos from the grip of commercialism and returning it to a place of depth, integrity, and connection. It’s a reminder that yoga’s truest form is less about the mat beneath your feet and more about how you move through the world once you step away from it.
Reviewed by Pat Harrington
You can find more information and buy tickets here
