The Kairali Cleanse: PanchaKarma, the ultimate Ayurvedic experience

Kerala the home of Ayurveda

I recently travelled to Kerala, one of India’s most naturally abundant and breathtaking states, where the landscape feels almost medicinal in its intelligence. Tea plantations roll into forests, and spices, herbs, fruits and vegetables grow in extraordinary abundance. It’s no surprise this lush southern region is considered the home of authentic Ayurveda, attracting seekers from around the world.

Alongside three close friends, fellow yogis and Ayurveda enthusiasts, we journeyed to Kairali Ayurvedic Healing Village in Palakkad, Kerala. While there were many centres we could have chosen across India, we opted for Kairali, as it was well respected internationally, knowing that the two-week treatment programme ahead would be physically and emotionally demanding.

Ayurveda, the ancient “science of life,” is recognised as one of the world’s oldest medical systems, with a history of over 3000 years. Ayurveda seeks to restore balance and longevity through alignment with nature’s rhythms. Whilst yoga (my first love), is often considered a sister science to Ayurveda. Having studied Ayurveda with interest for the last few years, I have realised how closely the two work together, such that one cannot be done effectively without the other, just as with the mind and body. Ayurveda provides the therapeutic foundation through diet, lifestyle and balancing the doshas, yoga offers the practices for mental, physical and spiritual growth. Together, they form a holistic path that supports human happiness on earth and in spirit.

Parental influence

In my youth, I recall my parents going to what they called a “health farm.” In truth, it was an Ayurvedic treatment centre in Gujarat, where my family originates in western India. Many of there generation had done so and so it wasn't unusual in our culture.

At the time, when I was healthy and convinced—like many young people—that I knew far more than my parents (you know the type!), I was certain it sounded unbearably dull, even slightly repulsive in parts, and I confidently declared that I would never engage in such a thing.

Fast forward forty years, and there I was—voluntarily checking into an Ayurvedic “hospital,” as it is locally called in Kerala, and choosing the most intensive detox programme on offer, the PanchaKarma.

Life has an exquisite sense of humour.

Why now?

At 57, I had begun to notice a few health issues of my own—some no doubt linked to age and menopause—and I felt that my inner channels were in need of a thorough cleanse. In fact, I had already started such a journey in the previous year, but progress was slow.

My primary concerns were: high cholesterol, joint pain, brain fog and a recently injured knee.

After reading my pulse, Dr A (both a western trained medical doctor and an Ayurvedic Physician) also added: “And fatigue.”  She was of course right.  I was fascinated, how did she know!

Until that moment, I had not consciously acknowledged this. Like many diligent workhorses, I had simply carried on. Yet on reflection, I realised I would often wake up in the mornings still tired!

The doctor confirmed my natural constitution as Pitta-Kapha but noted Kapha and Vata imbalance , this explained my brain fog and stagnant dense energy. Yes even as a yogi!

The Blessing in the Broken Glass

We each had decided to take individual "villas" (cabins) to maintain our personal space and dignity. That was one of the best decisions we had made together.

Early on the second morning, I reached for a glass, to pour some hot water. the glass slipped out of my hand and bounced three times, before it shattered and rolled theatrically across the floor.

Déjà vu.

Around 15 years ago, the same thing had happened in my parents’ North London kitchen just after my mum had passed. We were all there: siblings, our children and dad.  I recall that moment vividly as we all looked at one another and said, “That’s Mum.”

Standing there in Kerala, I smiled. I felt blessed — and mildly mocked. I could almost hear her: “See? I told you so.”

If I hadn’t already decided, I made the conscious decision to experience the PanchaKarma in all of its fine glory, come what may!

PanchaKarma: My Mini Kili(manjaro)

Like all good stories, these two weeks had a clear beginning, middle and end. I came to think of it as my mini Kili (before my actual climb in July!) : The PanchaKarma programme followed three stages—

• a steady ascent, the preparation;

• a sharp peak - the deep cleanse; and

• a slower descent - the rejuvenation.

The doctor aptly described it as a kind of “internal surgery.”

The steady ascent

None of us had experienced traditional PanchaKarma before. We knew it involved cleansing, but hadn’t grasped quite how structured and uncompromising the process might be. Once tailored to our individual constitutions, the doctors allowed little room for negotiation, in order to ensure maximum results.

PanchaKarma removes accumulated toxins, ama, and rebalances the doshas (Vata, Pitta and Kapha) through therapies such as medicated oils, massages, emisis, purgation, enemas nasal cleansing and bloddletting. Treatments are highly individualised, as the four of us discovered when comparing notes. Fortunately, my programme did not include emesis or bloodletting—something for which I was quietly grateful.

We arrived enthusiastic, having already given up caffeine and sugar, ready for the preparation stage which focused on loosening toxins through simple food, medicinal herbs and daily treatments. The first few days felt relatively gentle—until the day I was asked to drink almost a glass of ghee, to which my stomach protested loudly.

While there were nourishing massages, yoga and rest, there were also elements I would once have avoided entirely (see below). Yet I found myself committed to the process without trying to control it, in keeping with my promise.

Surrendering the Body (and the Prudish Ego)

The twice-daily massages began with an Indian head and shoulder massage, mornings included a delicate face massage. This progressed into full oil treatments and medicated baths of the whole body, followed by a steam bath.

Two therapists worked in synchrony on both sides of my body, pouring warm herbal liquids, using poultices, medicated powder or oil for the massages, depending on what the focus was for that day.  The whole system seemed to work like clockwork, as the therapists carried out the instructions of the doctors. 

There were moments when I felt like Cleopatra, immersed in warm, fragrant oils, tended to with almost regal care.

And there were other moments when, as someone naturally quite modest, my ego felt utterly stripped of dignity—pounded and pressed as though I were a slab of dough rather than a person.

There is little that feels dignified about lying naked while strangers knead, pour and cleanse every inch of you. Except, perhaps, this: the quiet dignity of surrender to the care given. The therapists were genuinely interested in our individual therapeutic journey and very attententive to our needs. On one particular day, I complained of shoulder pain and instantly they added to the treatment plan!

It also struck me that perhaps this was the deeper detox for me: not just ama from the gut, but the releasing of inherited/learnt conditioning around my body and my need to be covered as well as my need for total independence.

The Sharp Peak: Laxative Day (Otherwise Known as Humility Day)

The middle—the peak—was the hardest as we arrived at purgation or laxative day.

There are certain experiences that bond friendships for life, this was one of them. Our WhatsApp thread became an unfiltered confessional which gave ground for support. There was no topic too graphic and we were all willing to share, which eased the pain. Humour set in, as dignity left the building.

We were told not to leave our villas that day and for good reason too! After taking the pungent medicine, I relieved myself approximately seventeen times in seven hours. And yes, my greatest dread came true: I felt inner heat rise from my colon and knew what was coming. My intestines protested loudly before my body furiously ejected the contents of my megre breakfast of rice porride, through my mouth, Yes, I vomitted. I wondered, sincerely, why I had paid for this. Once the emission phase slowed, I was seriously depeleted- exhausted and could barely communicate.

Next came the four enemas, one a day: two “small” (100 ml of medicated oil) and two “big” (750ml of medicated milk). These ranked a close second of my least favourite of life experiences. During the big enema days, keeping the bathroom door unlocked whilst relieving myself, so the therapist could come in with more medicines as part of the easing process, was a particular exercise in ego dissolution.

Interestingly, the impact of the laxative and enemas subsided fairly quickly for me, for that I was grateful.

After the second "big" enema (and the last), I seemed to have so much more energy, it was a strange feeling, I felt what I can only describe as a clearing of my channels, both physically and energetically. PanchaKarma does not flirt with transformation. It commits. 

The slower descent

The remaining last day at the retreat were more for gentle beautification of the body, preparing for our departure back into the real world. And so, the end of the peak arrived surprisingly swiftly, almost unannounced.

At the end of the two weeks, with daily routines I had become accustomed to in this haven, I felt it would be hard to readjust back in to the real world. But once I returned to my much missed family, it felt like a new normal.

However, we were under no illusions that this was not the end and the descent needed to be slow and steady if we were to maintain our inner ojas, glow and clarity.

The Routine That Held Us

It is interesting how as humans, structure and habit keeps us anchored in the midst of the unknown. We established a lovely routine almost immediately as follows:

• 6:30am Yoga

• Breakfast

• Morning walk to the bridge

• First treatments

• Yoga Nidra/rest/work

• Lunch

• Swim

• Afternoon rest

• Second treatment

• Meditation/talks/snack

• Games

• Dinner

• Evening walk, film

• 9pm bedtime in theory!

  
  

The food was generally bland and quite monotonous with lots of millet flour based breads, rice and gourd vegetables. Somehow I didn’t really mind. Perhaps it was my Kapha nature? I felt like the food was helping to keep my emotions steady and any cravings in check.

Red rice was provided in the form of a carbohydrate accompaniment, porridge or kichdi at every meal and towards the end it did take a great effort to eat with any kind of enthusiasm!

However, as I read up on the qualities of red rice, I began to have renewed respect for this nutritional powerhouse. Red rice is rich in fibre and minerals, gently warming for digestion and valued in Ayurveda for supporting strength and rebuilding vitality and yet rather bland.

We rested more than I have ever done during my adult working life. Except, of course, for the work I had foolishly brought with me, whilst unfinished it played on my mind. I swiftly got through it so I could be more present to my treatment. Note to self: next time, do not bring work to finish off during breaks.

Ayurveda gently exposed that habit too kindly.

The Psychology of the Doshas

Watching my friends and myself change over the days was fascinating. Our differing doshas revealed themselves beautifully. My Kapha overload meant that I submitted more quietly to the plan, whilst my friends were more willing to question and analyse, a great balance. As the days passed and our doshas rebalanced, so did our emotions and expectations. My natural Pitta began to re-emerge and my mind sharpened as I engaged more wakefully.

Was It Worth It?

Absolutely - that is a resounding YES! Everyone's experience will be different but having now descended my mini Kili, I am amazed at how well I felt and continue to feel.

I only lost about 2kg — largely water retention — but I became noticeably leaner and about an inch tighter overall. My Kapha metabolism is slower and so I knew it would be harder for me to lose less weight.

And quite honestly, weight was never the true measure, for me, the following I observed was:

My brain fog lifted significantly

My mind felt clearer and continues to do so

My joints feel more nimble

My shin splints have gone and so I am able to walk considerably faster My knee feels stronger and the stiffness and pain has significantly reduced

My energy levels are higher and I no longer feel tired upon awakening

I feel I have been rebalanced and rejunvenated

The attachments to desserts and the social drinking culture seems to have diminished for now at least.

I have yet to test the cholesterol levels but all of the above tells me that too may well have diminished.

And all in the space of two weeks!

As an aside, during our stay, speaking to other folks at Kairali, we discovered many had been back, time and again, year after year, having felt the profound and lasting impact on their physical and mental well being. We heard some wonderful stories about arthritis being cured, extreme psoriasis being healed, and one person who had been in a wheelchair was able to walk again after years of treatment.

I emerged from the process with a deep respect for the quiet resilience, remarkable adaptability and innate intelligence of the human body and mind.

And given all that my body and mind have been through I have a strong determination to continue my Kairali routines now that I am back home in Wellingborough, Northamptonshire. I am acutely aware that some changes will last and others will need a little more time.

The Care That Changed Me

Whilst my values of independence would like me to believe I did this alone, I know full well that I couldn't have done it without the support and companionship of my friends and that it took a whole village to help bring me to an improved state of wellness. And for that I am truly grateful.

Every person — from doctors to therapists, chefs to waiters — knew our treatment plan. It was a holistic approach throughout Kairali Healing Village to maximise the benefits of each individuals treatment plan. The farm, the forest, the organic food, the herbs, the structure — everything felt aligned toward our healing.

It is the most cared-for I have ever felt. And yes — despite the vomiting, the enemas, the ego deaths — I would do it again.

Sometimes the very mountain we insist we’ll never climb is the one that quietly shows us how to return to ourselves with grace.

And somewhere, I suspect my mother is still smiling.

Namaste 🙏🏼

With love and good wishes

Raj