Q&A: Writer and Performer Mayuri Bhandari on the "Machine" Behind the Modern Yoga Industry

Next month, performer and writer Mayuri Bhandari brings her solo show, THE ANTI 'YOGI' to Soho Theatre. The production uses a blend of live percussion, dance, and satire to address the commodification of yoga and the erasure of its South Asian roots. We spoke to Mayuri about the personal experiences that inspired the show, the process of fusing multiple disciplines into a 60-minute narrative, and why she views the performance as a necessary intervention in the wellness space.

What inspired you to create a show that challenges the modern yoga industry?

The inspiration came from the absurd experiences and microaggressions I’ve faced as an Indian American woman in wellness spaces. It was bizarre to be a minority in a practice from my own background—watching my culture be repackaged, exploited, and sold back to me.

I’ve spent my life navigating this duality: on one side, yoga is a deep ancestral way of life; on the other, it’s a billion-dollar, sanitized industry. I was tired of seeing it reduced to a fitness booty workout, expensive leggings, and performative spirituality while its roots were erased—turned into a tool for enhancing egos rather than working on them.

What really pushed me to write was the desire to decolonize the practice and address the ‘machine’ behind it. Whenever I tried to bring up cultural erasure or the lack of South Asian/Indian voices in these ‘zen’ spaces, I was met with such defensiveness. I realized that discussing this intellectually in a classroom wasn't enough; as an artist, I needed people to feel the weight of this silencing, and also wanted our South Asian/Indian community to feel seen and heard.

I had plenty of material, but the 2023 Actors’ Strike in Los Angeles that finally gave me the space to channel it into a show. I couldn’t believe this wasn’t already on stage—it felt like a responsibility to be the voice. THE ANTI 'YOGI': Liberation, Not Lululemon! is not just a performance; it’s a critical intervention. Through rhythmic storytelling and humor, I’m reclaiming the narrative and creating a movement that addresses the intersectionality of ecofeminism, decolonization, and social justice.

How did you approach fusing so many different elements—like dance, poetry, and live percussion—into one cohesive story?

As a multihyphenate—dancer, figure skater, poet, and actress—I see solo theater as a limitless medium. Fusing dance, poetry, multimedia, and live percussion isn't just about variety; it’s the most honest way I can express who I am. By using different frequencies of storytelling, I can keep the audience on their toes, not quite knowing what’s coming next. It was a challenge to edit all these genres into a tight 60 minutes, but I wanted to create a truly 'filmatic' sound experience.

I am truly blessed to collaborate with our composer and live percussionist, Neel Agrawal. As a COLA Fellow and South Asian archivist, he deeply understood the weight of this work. We tested many percussion instruments, narrowing it down to 9-10 South Asian and Western sounds to ensure the score wasn't just a backdrop, but my inner voice personified through sound. Working with Neel and our co-director, Shyamala, we wove movement and rhythm together to get the audience swept up in the flow.

What was the process like turning your personal experiences into a comedy?

The crazy thing is, I didn't have to exaggerate much—the reality of the modern yoga industry is already so bizarre that reflecting it honestly is humorous in itself. These are real people, real situations, and real interactions I’ve had. Sometimes the truth is so out of the ordinary that laughter is the only natural response.

But it was also deeply healing. So many of us have faced microaggressions and dealt with this inner rage, confusion, and disrespect in wellness spaces. Turning that turmoil into comedy allows people who usually aren't centered to finally feel seen and heard. When I hear the audience connect with the ridiculousness—or even the pain—through laughter, it’s a communal recognition that we aren’t alone in these experiences- and it’s powerful.

It’s been truly touching to hear the responses from audiences; it’s a beautiful, shared release and a deeper connection. But taking raw experiences and making them funny while tackling such heavy themes? It is definitely not easy- and takes a lot of work.

Why do you feel it is important to bring the "ritual" back into the yoga conversation?

For me, bringing 'ritual' back isn't about aesthetics or doing something for show—it’s about returning to the ethics and morals of these practices. In the West, yoga has been stripped of its depth and used to enhance the ego, but the true ritual is about working on the ego. It’s about deep introspection rather than staying on the surface.

It’s also about intentionality and context. When we understand the history and culture behind these ancestral and indigenous practices, it changes how we see the world. It helps us recognize the atrocities and injustices around us, connecting the macro with the micro. Ritual allows us to stop focusing purely on the 'self' and instead dive into our inner worlds and the collective issues of the world around us.

We have to ensure these practices aren't just 'performative' or another layer of consumerism. Bringing ritual back is about reclaiming that depth and connecting to ‘pure awareness’ to action. It’s using the practice as a tool for actual liberation—for ourselves, nature, all species, and all beings.

What kind of energy or feeling do you hope the audience leaves the theatre with?

I want the audience to feel like they’ve just finished a full, multi-course meal. In the Natyashastra —an ancient, encyclopedic treatise on the arts—we talk about the Rasas , the different 'flavors' of universal emotions. I want the audience to savor as many as they can. I hope they leave having experienced a flavor of everything: laughter, depth, a bit of righteous rage, and maybe a dash of disgust at the reality of the injustice of the sacred.

I want people to feel surprised, shocked, and even a bit of mourning for what has been lost, but also to leave with a 'cup of courage' to look within. It’s about more than just being entertained; for some, it’s about finally feeling touched and seen. I want them to experience 'hope in action'—the feeling that liberation is actually possible and that we all have a part in it.

Ultimately, I hope they leave the theatre with a heart of deep connection and introspection, reflecting on what true unconditional love and empathy really mean. Whether they feel healed, discomfort, or empowered, I want them to be able to reflect, digest this meal of the human experience, and feel inspired to make change.

The Anti 'Yogi' arrives at Soho Theatre for a limited run 6 - 16 May 2026. You can find the full performance schedule and booking information here: https://sohotheatre.com/events/the-anti-yogi/