Monthly Archives: May 2025

Some of you may have been manifesting romantic love and some – healthy relationships, Sag. now we get it, as you grow your tolerance for BS reduces and you simply don’t wish to have to ‘put up’ with nonsense that drains you. However, Sag, some relationships are the work of a lifetime so be mindful of how you let your growth spurts influence them. It is great to ask for space, it is fabulous to share your voice, but it is also important to hold space and an expansive perspective for another. Just because you wish to grow a certain way – it may not be necessary that the other person wishes to grow that way too – but that also doesn’t mean you cannot make it work. Step into overflow and figure a way to set up a two way street that is fused with accommodation, healthy mutual respect and the space to grow.

Power Crystal: Twin Clear Quartz, to help you find and keep that love alive.

If you knew you were protected, would you not dare to dream bigger and ask for more, Scorpio? Your life is larger than what you may be able to currently consciously perceive, and in the depths of your soul, you know this to be true. When you allow your heart to be wide open, you allow creative solutions and insights to flow from Source itself. This month whatever ideas you receive, whatever your gut or intuition ask you to do, whatever you feel will set you free – do it. For some this may be a literal coming out of the closet, for some others it may be so metaphorically. Let yourself feel sparkly new, allow yourself to revamp yourself and your ideas in whatever capacity you can, find ways to detach from an older lack perspective and reattach yourself to a healthier fuller one. You are ready to level up. This is your time as your planetary ruler goes retrograde allowing you to really reset your bones and your life.

Power Crystal: Dioptase, to mend your wounded heart.

Before impulsive bangs, before blonde streaks, before anyone knew what balayage was, there was red hair. If you grew up South Asian, your first hair colour experiment probably came in a box, promising “cherry brown” but delivering everything from burgundy to maroon, auburn to mahogany. And, of course, it left your bathroom smelling like chemicals and maybe a little rebellion, too.

No millennial woman could forget Katrina Kaif’s striking red hair in Fitoor. Director Abhishek Kapoor later explained that her fiery colour mirrored the Chinar leaves of Kashmir, transforming with the seasons, symbolising change, passion, and chaos.

This is our Roman Empire. Not in the meme sense (though yes, we think about it weekly), but in the way it lingers. Red hair isn’t just a beauty trend for South Asians. It’s a rite of passage.

First came the ear piercings, probably against your will. Then, if you were particularly brave, the nose piercing, often sold as “traditional” to sidestep a family argument. Then, one afternoon in your late teens or early twenties, you took the plunge into red hair. That perfect midpoint between obedience and autonomy.

It was the ideal rebellion. Bold enough to feel new, subtle enough to survive family functions. You could still pass for “appropriate” unless the sun caught you the wrong way. Then, it was all over: a crimson halo exposing your inner delinquent.

Before highlights, balayage, or bleach, there was the box dye. No salon appointment, no damage control; just flimsy gloves, an old T-shirt, and a silent prayer it wouldn’t turn purple (it probably did). The shades—cherry, auburn, mahogany—promised transformation on a budget.

That’s why red hair was everyone’s first act of rebellion. No need to big-bad-bleach your hair or justify your decision to an auntie who thought you were “looking like a foreigner” (god forbid). You could always say it was mehendi, and everyone would accept it. You stepped into the sunlight and let the colour do the talking.

Red hair lets you experiment with vanity, dip a toe into self-expression and test the waters of change without a complete transformation. No full breakup, no spiritual crisis, no need for paperwork.

Even now, walk past a pharmacy in Mumbai, Delhi, or any suburban diaspora outpost, and there it is: that same box of dye, still promising impossible glamour in a shade only South Asians understand. Somewhere, a girl is buying it for the first time. Somewhere, a woman is buying it again, nostalgic for the days when red was a soft rebellion.