<p>Press both the palm of your hands against each other and spout “namaskar.” That’s our traditional way of greeting someone. But in recent times amidst the “fashionable” hi’s and hello’s, it had seemingly lost its appeal. Then coronavirus came calling and perhaps it is in vogue again!</p>.<p>This novel virus is passed on, particularly, via respiratory droplets of an infected person and the persons or surfaces he comes in close contact with. As the buzz around the precautions to be taken to contain the contagion gains currency and we go into an overreach mode, the old-world namaste has gained traction. As social distancing becomes the new normal, a case can be made against the all-pervasive handshake and the good-old namaskar might come to our rescue. Even President Trump extolling the virtues of namaste remarked that India and Japan (where they bow to greet) were “ahead of the curve.” Even the usual suspects at Page 3 get-togethers, seem to have ditched their air kisses, hugs and handshakes for the “modest” namaste. And it has its benefits, too. Many acupressure points are activated as we press our palms together, the mudra being part of many yogasanas. </p>.<p>Sadly, salutations in this mode have become so alien to us that it is, sometimes, met with weird reactions. It happened to me at least twice. In an election rally a few years back, a chief ministerial candidate was on her campaign spree amidst us. She met my eyes for a fleeting few seconds, in the surging crowd and out of admiration for the firebrand former IPS officer, I folded my palms in an unobtrusive namaskar from a distance while everybody else clamoured to shake hands, hug or garland her. What everybody else did was get in close physical contact, which in these times of Covid-19 is a big “no-no.” Probably surprised, she gave me a warm but hesitant smile. On another occasion, the audience after a play rushed onto the stage to take selfies with the leading lady, almost pressing their cheeks against hers, the act, arguably, violative of her personal space, and again, another instance of body contact, a taboo during such virus outbreaks while I did a graceful namaste, standing way below the podium. And I got an awkward smile. </p>.<p>I usually do a full-bodied namaskar, neta style, by lifting my folded hands up to my face and slightly bow. What a dignified way to acknowledge someone’s presence. As the pandemonium around the pandemic takes time to settle down with little evidence of how this modified virus would behave as its fortunes may see many vicissitudes, I think this beautiful tradition is here to stay. </p>
<p>Press both the palm of your hands against each other and spout “namaskar.” That’s our traditional way of greeting someone. But in recent times amidst the “fashionable” hi’s and hello’s, it had seemingly lost its appeal. Then coronavirus came calling and perhaps it is in vogue again!</p>.<p>This novel virus is passed on, particularly, via respiratory droplets of an infected person and the persons or surfaces he comes in close contact with. As the buzz around the precautions to be taken to contain the contagion gains currency and we go into an overreach mode, the old-world namaste has gained traction. As social distancing becomes the new normal, a case can be made against the all-pervasive handshake and the good-old namaskar might come to our rescue. Even President Trump extolling the virtues of namaste remarked that India and Japan (where they bow to greet) were “ahead of the curve.” Even the usual suspects at Page 3 get-togethers, seem to have ditched their air kisses, hugs and handshakes for the “modest” namaste. And it has its benefits, too. Many acupressure points are activated as we press our palms together, the mudra being part of many yogasanas. </p>.<p>Sadly, salutations in this mode have become so alien to us that it is, sometimes, met with weird reactions. It happened to me at least twice. In an election rally a few years back, a chief ministerial candidate was on her campaign spree amidst us. She met my eyes for a fleeting few seconds, in the surging crowd and out of admiration for the firebrand former IPS officer, I folded my palms in an unobtrusive namaskar from a distance while everybody else clamoured to shake hands, hug or garland her. What everybody else did was get in close physical contact, which in these times of Covid-19 is a big “no-no.” Probably surprised, she gave me a warm but hesitant smile. On another occasion, the audience after a play rushed onto the stage to take selfies with the leading lady, almost pressing their cheeks against hers, the act, arguably, violative of her personal space, and again, another instance of body contact, a taboo during such virus outbreaks while I did a graceful namaste, standing way below the podium. And I got an awkward smile. </p>.<p>I usually do a full-bodied namaskar, neta style, by lifting my folded hands up to my face and slightly bow. What a dignified way to acknowledge someone’s presence. As the pandemonium around the pandemic takes time to settle down with little evidence of how this modified virus would behave as its fortunes may see many vicissitudes, I think this beautiful tradition is here to stay. </p>