If you've ever felt out of place in your own body, you're not alone.

I've spent twenty years directing performance on some of the world's most demanding stages. But my relationship with movement began somewhere quieter—behind my family's couch, with a borrowed library book and a body that didn't yet feel at home.

I wasn't fit. I wasn’t physically confident. I avoided sport — and P.E. class at school was absolute torture for me. But I was curious — and that curiosity became the thread that pulled me through every chapter that followed. Today, at the AJYOGA Academy, I translate everything I’ve learned: the artistry, the discipline, the failures, the injuries, the humour, the humanity into a practice designed to support your body, your story, and your growth.

My focus is simple: high‑fidelity execution — not perfection, but presence, precision, and care.

My job isn't to lead a class.
It’s to orchestrate your practice.

"To apply the precision of professional performance to your personal practice—so every breath, every beat, and every movement is built with intention.

So your practice feels structured, safe, and intelligently built—not random."

My methodology wasn’t built in a weekend workshop.
It was forged across decades of high‑stakes performance — directing ensembles, shaping emotional arcs, and supporting performers under pressure. Those years taught me something essential:

People don't need a perfect performance.
They need a safe space to explore.

Whether directing a major production or guiding beginners through their first sun salutation, the principle is the same — hold the space, honour the body, and direct with intention.

Images: Above: Leading the cast of Titanic Theatre Restaurant for the 100th Anniversary event. Below: Directing the symphonic ensemble of Children of Eden (Melbourne Recital Centre).

I've worked on national stages and collaborated with industry leaders—but none of that matters if I can’t help you feel at ease in your own body.

The Academy isn’t about spectacle.
It’s about structure, rhythm, and clarity.

I design every online yoga class the way I would stage a scene:

• a clear beginning

• a purposeful middle

• a grounded ending

• and a through‑line that makes sense in your body

This is choreographed movement for real people — not performers.

Images: Directing the high-stakes ensemble of Godspell; At opening night of the Stephen Schwartz Triptych (Melbourne Recital Centre) with industry icon Stephen Schwartz and Michael Corry-Rose.

My technical foundation was shaped across continents — from traditional training in India to elite stages in Sweden, to years assessing instructors across the Asia‑Pacific.

But the most transformative lessons didn’t come from accolades.
They came from injury. I’ve taught and trained through injury — a frozen shoulder, a stubborn knee, even a fall down a concrete staircase.

These weren't setbacks.
They were masterclasses in compassion.

They taught me how to find the "Architecture of Ease" — even when the body feels like a locked door. They taught me how to teach from empathy, not ego. And they taught me that strength without safety is just choreography, not care.

Every class I teach now is built on that awareness.

The stage is yours.

Images: 1. Technical architecture in Rishikesh, India; 2. Directing international yoga retreats in Bali, Indonesia; 3. Winning 'The 1ne' International Semi-Finals; 4. Presenting on the national FILEX stage.

While the AJYOGA Academy is always judgement-free, it’s not always interruption-free. Meet Pearl & Oyster — sister and brother — and highly flexible co-instructors.

While they usually keep a low profile, don’t be surprised if they wander across the mat or park themselves in front of the camera demanding immediate attention from time to time.

Their job is simple: to keep your practice light, human, and imperfect.