Sliding into the &lsquodownward-facing dog&rsquo posture with what, to my untrained mind, appeared to be consummate canine felicity, I sensed the searing intensity of critical female eyes on my upraised posterior. &ldquoRaise your bum,&rdquo the small-framed Mukta Ghosh, who was leading us through our break-of-dawn yogic regimen, cajoled me with disarming anatomical directness. &ldquoStraighten your knees.&rdquo But attaining perfection with the Adho Mukha Svanasana &mdash one of a succession of postures in the Sun Salutation sequence &mdash remained an enterprise way beyond the capabilities of my bodily-kinesthetic intelligence. And watching me flail around like a neurologically challenged dog with barely-concealed amuse-ment, Mukta, I&rsquom convinced, was readily able to diagnose the nature of my failing I hadn&rsquot done a stroke (or a stretch) of yoga for even a day of my life.