Oil christening in India

I am lying naked on a wooden plank beneath a swaying a ceramic pot of herbal oil that drips through cotton tendrils and soaks my forehead, scalp and hair. This is a Shirodhara treatment and it feels like an extended baptism.

I chose this as my first Ayurveda treatment based on the spa guide which advocated its benefits. “It induces a mental state similar to a trance¨ reduces insomnia, depression, anxiety, hypertension and mental retardation.” It is also said to awaken the third eye – the ability to see what cannot be seen. Like an experiment, I wanted to see just how hypnotised I could become under a stream of steamy oil.

The first thing to know about Ayurveda treatments is that you need to be comfortable stripping off – there is no room for modesty when you are coated in oil and slippery as an eel. The second thing is that two women conduct the treatment if you are a lady and two men if you are a gentleman.

Ayurveda medicine began three millennia ago and is a well-respected holistic approach to health that is compatible with western medicine. I have had many massages in my time, but the Ayurveda treatment I had in south India was like physical catharsis. It isn’t about muscles; it’s a purge and a rebirth.

The second part of the treatment is a body massage that begins with a prayer; the two female masseuses stand behind each shoulder and sing with enough fervour to make you feel revered. Then come cotton buds soaked in yellow oil that needed some cross-lingual explanation. It turns out they are destined for my ears. It’s thorough, to say the very least.

Next comes the head massage, as sections of scalp are drenched in hot oil. I am beginning to smell like a crispy banana fritter. My feet are plopped into a gold basin of steaming hot water and the head to toe heat is soporific enough to make me stagger to the next station – the massage table.

The massage strokes end at the stomach, transferring toxins from the body to be digested and excreted. Then comes the most bewildering part of the treatment. I am motioned to climb into a wooden coffin box with a hole for my head. The cupboard-like door has a tube of steam being pumped into it and it is all very medieval. After fifteen minutes in the steam box, the oil scent has turned my fragrance from a golden fritter to sour milk. This is the only massage I have had that leaves me energised instead of nap-ready, but that may be down to the startling aroma of the medicated oil.

After a shower, I am seated at a dressing table where four silver boxes are laid out before me like a Victorian era pre-dinner ritual. The first box contains a cotton bud, and the second contains cotton balls that are stuffed in my ears to maintain body temperature. Next comes Ayurvedic gold dust that is rubbed into my scalp; it is said that its application maintains a consistent body temperature. The last is a packet of two orange pills called laxveda, prescribed with warm water after dinner to purify the body and extract toxins. I was dubious about what it would do to me, but I woke the next day feeling on top of the world.

In fact, everything about my Ayurvedic experience was pleasant and while I did not slip into a trance or open a third eye, my oil christening left me feeling born-again.

Advertise with us

Email the Travel Weekly team at traveldesk@travelweekly.com.au

ayurveda india massage spa