Your teacher says "take a vinyasa, then find your drishti in utkatasana," and half the room quietly panics. Sanskrit in a yoga class can feel like a password you weren't given. Here's the good news: it's not a test, nobody will quiz you, and the working vocabulary of modern yoga is about twenty words. Learn those and everything else is just pose names, which follow patterns you'll start recognizing on their own.
The words that run the class
Asana (AH-sah-nah) — "seat," originally, and now "pose." Nearly every posture name ends in it: Trikonasana, triangle pose; Balasana, child's pose. Once you hear -asana as a suffix, pose names stop being one long word and start being a description plus a label.
Pranayama (prah-nah-YAH-mah) — breath practice. Prana is life-force or, more usefully, breath; ayama is extension or control. It's the umbrella term for everything from ujjayi to alternate-nostril breathing. The pranayama section covers the main techniques.
Vinyasa (vin-YAH-sah) — two meanings, both common. As a style, it's flow yoga: movement linked to breath. As a mid-class instruction — "take a vinyasa" — it means the specific plank–chaturanga–up-dog–down-dog sequence. Context tells you which. More on the style at vinyasa.
Savasana (shah-VAH-sah-nah) — corpse pose, the final rest. From sava, corpse. It's called that because you practice complete stillness — harder than it sounds, and arguably the point of the whole hour.
Namaste (nah-mah-STAY) — a greeting, roughly "I bow to you." In Western studios it's become a class-closing ritual. Historically it's just a respectful hello, the way you'd fold your hands and nod. No mysticism required; it's a courteous word with good manners built in.
The words that describe what you're doing
Drishti (DRISH-tee) — gaze point. Where you look in a pose, which sounds cosmetic until you try a balance with wandering eyes. A fixed, soft gaze is a stability tool.
Bandha (BAHN-dah) — "lock." Internal engagements, usually mula bandha (pelvic floor) and uddiyana bandha (low belly). Think of them as gentle core tone with a plumbing diagram. The bandha page has the details.
Mudra (MOO-drah) — a hand position. The most common is palms together at the chest (anjali mudra). Hands get their own vocabulary because in the old texts they're considered expressive, not just grabby.
Chakra (CHAH-krah, not SHAH-krah) — "wheel." In the traditional map, energy centers along the spine. Modern classes use chakra language loosely, often as a poetic way of saying "chest" or "gut." Useful as imagery; take healing claims with salt. The honest rundown is at the chakra system.
Mantra (MAHN-trah) — a repeated sound or phrase used as an anchor for attention, like the ubiquitous Om. Less magic spell, more metronome for the mind.
The words that name the territory
Hatha (HAH-thah) — historically, the whole physical branch of yoga: poses, breath, the works. On modern schedules it usually means a slower, hold-the-pose class.
Ashtanga (ash-TAHN-gah) — "eight limbs," the classical framework of yoga (ethics, posture, breath, meditation, and so on). Also the name of a demanding, set-sequence style. Same word, two addresses — see ashtanga.
Guru (GOO-roo) — teacher, literally "heavy" — weighty with knowledge. In Western use it drifted toward "influencer with followers," which is not the original flavor. More here.
Sangha (SAHN-gah) — community. Your Tuesday-night class is, technically, a sangha. The word reminds you the practice was never meant to be purely solo.
Om (A-U-M) — the sound chanted at the start or end of class. Traditionally the sound of everything; practically, a shared deep breath with tone. You can hum along or just breathe. Nobody is checking.
The words you'll see in pose names
Five small words decode dozens of poses:
- Adho / urdhva — downward / upward. Adho mukha svanasana: downward-facing dog.
- Ardha — half. Ardha chandrasana: half moon.
- Parivrtta — revolved/twisted. Parivrtta trikonasana: revolved triangle.
- Supta — reclined. Supta baddha konasana: reclined bound angle.
- Utthita / eka pada — extended / one-legged. Prefixes that tell you the shape before you see it.
That's the twenty. The glossary has a few hundred more when you're ready, but these cover ninety percent of what any teacher will say. And if a Sanskrit word sails past you mid-class? Do the version you know. The pose doesn't care what it's called.
Sanskrit is not a password. It's a filing system — and you only need the top drawer.