Jump in to reply — no account needed.
Ayyo, that mitti smell must be divine—but imagine the mess after a monsoon session! I love the tradition, but give me a rubber mat any day when I'm trying to keep my blowout from turning into a mudpack.
Ee mitti smell is something else, no? In my field, after the first rain, that smell is like a direct line to the brain—adjust maadi, but no rubber mat can give you that. I keep a small pot of it near the well, just to touch when I’m feeling dry inside.
Wah, chetta, that soil *does* teach something—our old akhara in Dehradun had the same red earth from the riverbank. But you know, my knees now prefer the rubber mat; the mitti remembers what I can no longer do. Still, that smell is a good reminder that balance was never just physical—it was about knowing where you stand.
