Lesson 1: The Origins and Evolution of Surya Namaskar

Sun as Symbol, Sun as Spirit

In India, the sun has long been more than a glowing orb in the sky—it is a living deity. Surya, in the Vedic tradition, represents not only the source of life but the very force of consciousness. The Rig Veda describes Surya as “the eye of the gods, the soul of all that moves and does not move.” (Rig Veda, 1.50.1)

These ancient hymns were often chanted at dawn—moments when the first rays touched the earth and lit up both landscape and spirit. In the Vedic imagination, dawn wasn’t just a time of day—it was a portal. A liminal moment between darkness and clarity. And this is where the earliest seeds of Surya Namaskar may have been sown—not as a posture sequence, but as a way of offering ourselves to the day, with reverence.

So while the precise physical flow we practice today wasn’t etched into stone thousands of years ago, the sentiment behind it—the act of rising, moving, and bowing to the light—is unmistakably ancient.

From Ritual to Sequence: The 20th Century Emergence

Now, let’s fast forward.

The actual twelve-posture sequence we now refer to as Surya Namaskar was first codified in the early 20th century—not in an ashram, but in a royal household. Around 1928, Bhawanrao Shriniwasrao Pant Pratinidhi, the Raja of Aundh (a small princely state in Maharashtra), published a book titled The Ten-Point Way to Health: Surya Namaskars. His aim was practical and patriotic: to improve physical health and vitality across India. But what he did—perhaps unintentionally—was give the world a structured, flowing template for integrating movement, breath, and devotion.

Bhawanrao wasn’t a yogi in the classical sense. He was a forward-thinking ruler who believed India needed a physical culture that was rooted in indigenous wisdom, not just British gymnastics. His Surya Namaskar was a sequence of dynamic movements performed rhythmically—no mat, no props, just breath and body. It was inclusive, accessible, and potent.

Soon after, it was adopted by the great modern yogis: T. Krishnamacharya, often called the father of modern yoga, and his students—Pattabhi Jois, B.K.S. Iyengar, and Indra Devi. Each brought their own flavour. In Jois’s Ashtanga system, Surya Namaskar became the daily ritual—repeated again and again as a spiritual forge. In Iyengar Yoga, the focus was on precision, symmetry, and therapeutic alignment. But the essence remained: movement linked with breath, woven with intention.

This, in many ways, is where modern postural yoga found its roots—not in ancient temples, but in this fusion of Vedic reverence and early 20th-century physical culture.

A Practice Beyond Time

It’s important to remember that Surya Namaskar is not just “a flow.” It’s a story. A cycle. A sunrise and sunset embedded into your own body. Each round is a microcosm—a chance to embody emergence, offering, release, and return. And each practitioner brings something new to that cycle. As the yogic text Hatha Yoga Pradipika reminds us:

“Just as the lion, elephant and tiger become controllable slowly, so does the breath. With practice, the breath becomes a friend.”
— Hatha Yoga Pradipika, 2.15

We don’t rush the practice. We live it. One breath at a time.

Key Takeaways

• Surya Namaskar draws its spirit from Vedic sun worship, where the rising sun was saluted as both light and life.

• The modern physical sequence was codified by Raja Bhawanrao of Aundh in the late 1920s, blending Indian tradition with contemporary movement.

• It was later integrated into the systems of Krishnamacharya, Jois, and Iyengar, laying the foundation for many forms of yoga we practice today.

• At its core, Surya Namaskar remains a devotional ritual—a way of tuning the body to the pulse of the cosmos, and greeting each day with clarity and intention.