In a routine chat with my best friend, who’s a strong advocate of seeking therapy, she teasingly told me, “You should try it.” I’d been whining over a few glasses of—let’s call it, orange juice about everything and nothing. Not against or for weekly sessions with a professional, I just believed my issues were too superficial for it. A week later, over some more ‘orange juice’, her response was emphatic, “You seriously need it.” I’d like to think that she was referring to my high-stress job, or the fact that I’d started feeling old(er) and perpetually fatigued, or perhaps my constant cantankerousness at Bombay’s year-round humidity that made my skin, brain, and occasionally, temper break out. These were my general defence mechanisms to most of my aggravations: ‘I’m stressed; it’s hot; I’m tired.’ I believe they call this denial.

The hardest part of any transformation journey is to perhaps admit that there’s something to transform in the first place. To submit yourself unconditionally to the fact that your system needs guided TLC, over and above a deep tissue massage, gym session or a few cocktails that you think might miraculously relieve all tension. This piece of insight was given to me by the Six Senses Vana’s General Manager Jaspreet (Jas) Singh during my three-day stay at India’s premier Ayurvedic sanctuary, and what very quickly became my channel of alternative therapy.

Founded by Indian entrepreneur Veer Singh in 2014 with a reported $55 million to construct the 21-acre haven in the environs of the Sal Forest in Dehradun in Uttarakhand; the idea then was to give discerning patrons (Oprah Winfrey included) an off-the-radar, luxurious space to detox. You had to be seriously exclusive to check in. Kind of like the MET Gala of wellness. There was little media around Vana at the time and unless you were in the know—a few global editors would boast about visiting after an exhaustive Fashion Week season in Europe—the retreat was a utopian concept to a general affluent population. Since the global hotel conglomerate Six Senses took over in 2023, Vana’s opened doors to a wider network, both globally and locally, retaining the highest order of quality and exclusivity, while being more accessible to an informed audience in search for the ultimate experience in wellness. A boutique space that was now armed with the trappings of 7-star hospitality.  

But the Six Senses Vana is not just frills and thrills. Though if you’re seeking a getaway from the noise and into the lap of high luxury serenity, there’s plenty of that. A perfectly manicured sanctuary with abundant foliage housing variegated natural centres at different intervals. Your only allies are the sweet songs of many birds, the crisp clean air, the odd monkey sighting and your fellow comrades—or Vanavasis—on ground. During my stay, there were around 30 from different countries, including France, Russia and Britain, who you can choose to interact with if you’re feeling social or otherwise keep to yourself. Each person present has an individual agenda—whether it’s to simply detox or indulge in a more personalised programme for weight management; to tackle insomnia; yoga; natural therapy; an ayurvedic retreat; or to explore the ancient practice of Tibetan Medicine. How long you choose to stay for is equivalent to how deep you wish to go with you transformation journey. But regardless of why you’re there, what binds each Vanavasi is that no technology is allowed in common spaces (a feat much harder than you would imagine); everyone’s kitted out in the same white kurta-pyjama from designers Abraham & Thakore and Antar-Agni; and each is given the same sandalwood-beaded bracelet to suggest everyone is equal here. There’s no place for your designer handbags, logo-ed t-shirts and ego underneath. Besides the one couple sauntering about in Versace and Dolce & Gabbana, who probably didn’t get the memo.  

I landed at night after a delayed flight, with a miserable cold and a system stuffed with antibiotics, ready to put the Six Senses Vana to test—not with the intent of healing me (denial, remember?) as much as wanting this luxurious retreat to kill my flu. Once inside the massive gates of the property, a tranquillising effect swept over me almost instantly—like the air injected an invisible booster shot in my system. Post a greeting of a red crimson tikka on my head, I walked through Kila, the vast lobby centred around an oval pool, and into Sakana, the marquee restaurant at the property. Not your usual resort restaurant, Sakana’s the benchmark for high-quality produce used to craft innovative and deliciously healthy dishes you’d devour, without any guilt. The lauki halwa paired with a sorghum khichdi, and mutton stew with seasonal vegetables and a mushroom ravioli were exceptional, especially when combined with magic potions from the apothecary bar like a juice of white pumpkin, coriander and celery or brahmi leaves with saffron and nutmeg. Alcohol is reserved to wine and beer, capped at two for each Vanavasi. I fulfilled my quota before floating into my forest-facing suite replete with a balcony that overlooked endless trees, a lounge area to sink into and an Instagramable bathroom with a bathtub overlooking the forest that you could spend your life in. A handmade rice and milk clarifying face mask was a nice touch. My Six Senses Vana experience could’ve ended right here, and I would’ve been content.  

My first order of business the next morning was to meet Dr. Jayachandran, the Head Ayurveda Clinician, who would design a programme for me, depending on what my mind and body was throwing up. Dr. Jaya felt my pulse, assessed my doshas and put me through a wellness screening that would gauge my autonomic nervous system markers. Here was my first reality check: I had a high Pitta (fire)-Vata (air) dosha that wasn’t being nurtured correctly. There was enough heat in my system to start a volcano; my overthinking mind struggled to stay still; and my anxiety was the direct consequence of no chill, besides my body feeling bloated due to internal inflammations, much thanks to a wrong kind of burning fire. This would have absolutely delighted my nearest and dearest who were subjected to my constant whining of feeling ‘fat’. I’m a size S.

Dr. Jaya, armed with an ever-smiling face and an annoyingly positive aura you wanted to steal, had me get down to work with a potent combination of hard-pounding massages, acupuncture, reflexology, breathwork, a Tibetan therapy and most fascinating of all, Watsu. My itinerary started with meeting with Maya who was my first treatment specialist to rid any fatigue, deflate bloating (arguably the two glasses of wine from the night before) and melt away tension. After a nice pounding that was undeniably the best massage I’d had in my life, my body resigned to the fact that I was in for serious business.  

Interestingly, Maya had moved from Kerala to Dehradun with her family for her job, attesting to the magical quality of life the hills offered. Her warmth and radiance filled my lush massage room as much as the fragrant scent of aromatic oils. Glowing faces and unadulterated happiness seemed to be a pattern with all the dedicated soldiers at Vana—recruited carefully from different parts of the country for their superior qualifications. This included Thupten, who started my Tibetan Massage with a sound mantra that ironically blocked the noise in my head. Six Senses Vana is one of the few places in the world to practice the Sowa Rigpa traditional form of Tibetan medicine, and it explains why the Dalai Lama inaugurated the centre.

Moving from my head and body to my feet, Subhash Chander Chauhan wielded his reflexology magic, and possibly saw more emotion from me in my one-hour session than any ex-boyfriend. As he traversed the pressure points of my feet, I cried, laughed, fidgeted and tried to downplay the odd noises coming out of my stomach. Chauhan explained that each point is connected to a different body part and your system begins to react in unusual ways upon adding pressure. His overall conclusion reiterated Dr. Jaya’s findings, besides adding that my pancreas levels were down; I had to check my blood pressure and thyroid; confront unresolved emotional baggage; work on my breathing and tackle body stiffness. Seemed like a lot.  

Luckily, I had Manoj to help me with my breathwork on ground, who proved to me that chanting a few mantras and focussing on guided breathing can change your entire day, and in turn, your life. Post my session, I felt calmer, more energetic (I was once of the belief that meditation or slow breathing can make you feel lethargic) and ready to meet Dr. Shreyas, who was set to release body stiffness. It eventually took him three acupuncture sessions to make me feel like I was levitating. This besides a nimble Dolma stretching out and releasing all fatigue from my body in a session of Yogayam. The most unusual of them all, however, was my Watsu session with Ngawang Yangzom. Watsu is essentially a form of hydrotherapy where you’re submerged chest-deep in water and are cradled, stretched and moved around by a specialist. The pool is meant to represent a mother’s womb—a space where you feel safest and most nurtured in—and as Yangzom guided me through my session, my mind harked back to childhood memories and specific life moments that were buried deep under. I cried and laughed again as my body floated. I felt giddy, almost delirious after my session and went back to my room for another cry that was an extraordinary mix of happiness, sadness, relief and gratitude. 

What anyone who’s been lucky enough to be cocooned in this paradisical space will tell you is that you don’t consume Six Senses Vana, it consumes you. What it did for me was more than remove my flu and toxins. It seeped deep into my system and relieved me of many a dark thought, stress and emotional overload. Gliding through these treatments, sampling the cleanest food plucked from the herb garden inhouse, soaking in nature’s best and living a holistic life that emphasised looking inward before outward was beyond addictive. Every moving part at the Six Senses Vana is constructed to elevate your inner self. Upon my departure, Dr. Jaya handed me a long list of dos and don’ts—foods to consume, when to consume it, how to release my mind and most importantly guidelines of nailing my beathing. Do I still follow it? For the most part, yes. Reality hits back hard and time always remains of the essence that can make the Six Senses Vana seem almost like a placebo effect. It’s why I long to go back for that feeling of nirvana and exultation—what I now call my personal therapy. Till then, I remain content, calmer and happier, except for obviously still complaining about Bombay’s miserable heat.