Is it cool to be woo woo now?

It’s Saturday night, and Manav* has just returned home from a satsang at a wellness centre in Bandra, Mumbai. He’s staying in with Chinese takeaway to “let the energies soak in”. “No drinks tonight, of course,” he tells me over the phone.

Earlier that week, he had his usual check-in with his astrologer—who also moonlights as a numerologist and vastu expert—and received a new batch of incense “to cleanse his home” along with a few charged crystals. “This isn’t some trend,” says the 30-year-old architect. “It’s just how I live.”

Over the years, Manav has become his friend group’s designated spirituality expert. No surprises there, given his Rolodex of the best psychics, healers, tarot card readers, and energy workers in town.  

Then there’s Sheena*, who prefers to keep her spiritual pursuits under wraps. “My Hinge matches would run for the hills if I admitted how much I love the woo woo,” laughs the 29-year-old creative director. Late one night, she found herself deep in the Instagram witchcraft rabbit hole—and, in a 3 am moment of weakness, tried a “spell” to bring back a situationship.

It worked. “He texted me the next day!” she says, half-proud, half-aghast. “Nothing dark though—I just wrote his name on a piece of paper, dipped it in water, sprinkled cinnamon, and left it in the moonlight. Benign shit like that.”

Kids, don’t try this at home. And if you do, do so at your own risk, because the next day Sheena texts me again: “You won’t believe this—he just messaged me again out of nowhere. We ended things seven months ago!” The universe, apparently, delivers push notifications now.

Is Mercury in the microwave?

While I am no expert on spells, I do get the appeal of spiritual anchors—some days are for going with the flow, others require a bit of divine delegation. I subscribed to this woo woo way of life well before its recent cool-girl makeover: routine sound baths and reiki work, full-moon meditations, tarot card readers on speed dial, and, more recently, even a karmic blueprint reading with an astrologer.

My Instagram Explore feed is now a constellation of reels on quantum leaping timelines, feng shui hacks, and Mercury retrograde getting a bad rap. I even hosted a tarot-themed birthday dinner, complete with a cake that read ‘Let me ask my psychic’.

So, imagine the smug synchronicity I felt when, days later, a photo of designer Jonathan Anderson’s tarot reading by Trevor Ballin—who also reads for Dan Levy, Emma Corrin, and Luca Guadagnino—went mildly viral. We’re so alike, I thought.

Because let’s face it: whether you’re a writer trying to make a deadline, a designer balancing 18 collections, or an entrepreneur manifesting the next funding, we all (it seems) get by with a little help from our healers. 

What once was hush-hush conversations among only a few has now assumed peak main-character energy. But this new spirituality isn’t about religion. It’s about ancient wisdom repackaged for an algorithm-influenced crowd. Whether you’re burning sage or burning out, everyone’s seeking something to believe in…preferably with a side of rose quartz and cacao and the full moon bearing witness to it all.

“With all this constant overstimulation today, presence has become a real luxury. People just want to be grounded and have a little agency to make better choices,” says 28-year-old breathwork facilitator and self-discovery architect Akshat Rajan. Even as heir to a construction empire, Rajan found his calling elsewhere—in the spiritual wild. 

He began exploring various modalities in his teens—theta healing, sound baths, even the fundamentals of astrology. “I experienced ecstatic dance in LA, movement school in Mexico, and shamanic practices in Bali, and have trained with [Dutch motivational speaker and extreme athlete] Wim Hof himself,” he recalls. “I’ve done embodied masculinity workshops and even had a Merkaba activation [which is meant to activate and align your chakras].” He now pours his understanding into working with politicians, business magnates, and actors.

Three years ago, Rajan also launched wellness collective Akiko, a 3,000 sq ft terrace overlooking Juhu Beach, where you can sign up for expert-led experiences like cacao ceremonies, drum circles, new-moon meditations, and conscious breathwork.

Welcome to the other side

“Spirituality is the new pillar of wellness,” Rajan says. “We’re moving from hardcore longevity-obsessed living to a future that’s about self-awareness, ritual, and grounding. Not just how long you live but how well.”

And while some might find their mindfulness jogging along Carter Road or sitting under a tree, others are on what could only be described as a witch hunt—pun very much intended—for cosmic alternatives. Even self-proclaimed sceptics aren’t entirely immune. Everyone’s got at least one remedy on standby to keep the evil eye at bay (I have more than a few, du-uh) or to “really harness that fire horse energy this year”.

And it’s not just the millennials or boomers; Gen Z wants in on these good vibes too. The difference? They want spirituality without the escapism—no running to the hills. Something grounded, urban, and of course, a little Instagrammable. Enter a new wave of modern ‘ashrams’ and collectives like Akiko, Aum Life, and Way Well, which blend community with consciousness, and spiritual self-work with social wellness.

Then there are the private practitioners, like Upasana S of Ihidaya Healing, who translate the esoteric for everyday life. “The current generation is more open to spirituality because there’s so much chaos in the world—and because it’s finally being spoken about openly,” she says.

‘Energy’ is a hook word with Gen Z, she finds. “They are conscious of it. ‘Oh, I went for this party, and the energy didn’t feel right,’ they’ll say.” For many, that awareness leads to reiki sessions or sound healing, the latter being a gentle entry point. “It’s passive, and you just lie on a mat. It feels approachable and less intimidating.” 

And while social media has certainly amplified awareness, it has also spawned what Rajan calls spiritual shopping from a dopamine menu—mushrooms in Bali, ayahuasca in Peru or an Etsy spell if you’re in the mood for something more DIY (to bring back that ex, you know).

Written in the stars

Upasana admits not everyone’s end goal is transcendence. “Sometimes, it’s just a cool thing for them to try. But spirituality as a fad can only last so long,” says Upasana. “Once you experience a real shift, you’ll want to go deeper.”

For 25-year-old Alya Taneja, who goes by ‘The Gen Z Witch’ on Instagram, that shift came early. A Psychology graduate, she grew up surrounded by vision boards, reiki healings, and tarot decks. “My mum’s a psychic,” she says. “So spiritual talk was just dinner-table conversation.”

A few years ago, Taneja began studying occult sciences and the history of witchcraft, before training in shamanic work and Akashic healing—modalities she now offers clients, most of whom are in their late twenties and early thirties. Every Thursday, she hosts free online meditations and often posts manifestation tips on her page to make spiritual tools more accessible to “people my age”. Most people who see Taneja either want to improve their mental health or their love life, or often both, she says.

Fawzia Khan, 30, a writer and photographer, admits that it is her love life that has her turning to occult sciences most often. She tunes into a bevy of popular astrology accounts like Evan Nathaniel Grimm, Amy DeMure, and Joshua Pingley to decode planetary moods and emotional forecasts on the daily.

“But I finally want to get my own birth chart reading now. A new year is the perfect time for some customised guidance,” she says. She’s already tried tarot, manifestation candles, even crystal bracelets. “Citrine and rose quartz have really worked for me,” she adds. 

Ultimately, this new language of spirituality may seem a little pop at times, but it’s also the perfect crossover between self-help and self-expression that resonates today. Whether it’s love readings, moon rituals, manifestation hacks or simply muttering “Mercury’s in retrograde” to explain bad Wi-Fi, these sacred rituals make modern life less overwhelming, lending it some semblance of sense.

As for me? I’ve taken it to the logical extreme—tarot readings for everyone at my birthday dinner, on-theme cookies to match (hey, aesthetics matter!), and incense as party favours (obviously). Yes, I am that girl. And if you’re still here, you probably are too. 

*Some names have been changed upon request