At seventeen, I was already a certified yoga instructor, though I still imagined a future in medicine or engineering. Yoga entered my life in Class X, when I began practising with my mother.
A year later, my teacher, whom I regard as my Guru, urged me to train formally. When my NEET results arrived, I had not secured a seat in a government medical college, and private education was beyond my family’s means. The path I had imagined closed, but my wish to help people remained.
That disappointment became an unexpected turning point. Through AYUSH, I discovered naturopathy and a different way to healthcare. The idea of combining medical knowledge with yoga and nature spoke of something I had been drawn to since my early days of practice.
What had once seemed an unlikely alternative gradually became a calling: not simply to teach yoga, but to understand how it could become part of a wider effort to help people live healthier lives.
As I studied public health and later explored functional medicine, I began to see why looking beyond a diagnosis matters. Illness rarely arrives as a symptom alone: pain can disturb sleep, affect work and leave little room for family life. Advice is useful only when it recognises these realities and helps people find appropriate care.
This wider perspective must remain grounded in evidence. Conventional medicine is essential for diagnosis and treatment, and urgent symptoms need prompt attention. Functional medicine encouraged me to consider a person’shistory, habits, and environment, but ‘natural’ or ‘holistic’ does not by itself mean effective.
Naturopathy, yoga and functional medicine are distinct approaches; interventions must be judged by evidence, risks and individual needs.
Conversations with practitioners across modern medicine, dentistry, Ayurveda and homoeopathy have pushed me to explain both the value and limits of my work. In my practice, naturopathy and yoga help me consider everyday factors shaping well-being, including movement, rest and lifestyle.
Drugless care is not necessarily simpler: it calls for careful assessment, individualised guidance and clarity about when medical intervention is essential. Conditions such as PCOS, persistent digestive symptoms, post-stroke hemiplegia and Bell’s palsy require medical evaluation, with treatment or rehabilitation where indicated.
Naturopathy, yoga and lifestyle support may complement care, but must never replace necessary treatment.
My approach to naturopathy and drugless care is rooted in a simple belief: healthcare should look beyond a condition to the life a person hopes to lead.
This means paying attention not only to symptoms, but also to movement, daily routines and the small freedoms that illness can take away. One woman whose journey has stayed with me is a 54-year-old patient who came to me with the condition of rheumatoid arthritis, with severe pain making movement difficult.
After eight months of yoga therapy, she reported being pain-free. In 2025, she joined me at the Sohra Marathon and has since returned to wearing heels after years in sneakers.
Her experience is personal, and every patient’s needs and outcomes are different. Complementary approaches must always respect the place of appropriate medical care.
Yet her story captures what a more human approach to healthcare seeks to recognise: sometimes, the significance of well-being lies in the everyday experiences that people can once again enjoy. For her, it was a pair of heels.
Her experience also reminds me that advice must fit the life a person actually has. Telling someone to eat better is easy; understanding what they can afford, what is available locally and how much time they have takes more care. When a routine proves impossible, the advice may need to change, not the person.
The need for care that feels human was personal, too. During a difficult period in 2024, I wished for a safe, non-judgmental space to pause and feel heard, where professional help felt human rather than mechanical.
I could not find one. My late uncle, Shri Donkupar Dkhar, a retired IAS officer, showed me the value of selfless community service. His example and my own experience led me to open IYKA-ARAM in December 2024, so people in the hills could feel heard and understand what care can and cannot do.
Practising in Meghalaya has reinforced the importance of local context. Traditional foods should neither be assumed healthy simply because they are familiar nor dismissed because they fall outside fashionable dietary advice.
Income, work, caregiving and access to services affect what changes are sustainable. Personal responsibility matters, but prevention cannot become another burden placed entirely on individuals.
Looking back, my path from yoga with my mother to working with people in Meghalaya has taught me to value care that is evidence-aware, honest about its limits and attentive to daily life.
Self-care cannot replace professional assessment or treatment; it can help people take an informed part in well-being alongside appropriate care.
I return to the image of that woman in her heels. It is not proof of what therapy can do, but a reminder of why I chose this work: to help people feel heard, supported and able to return to the parts of life that matter to them.
The author is Founder, IYKA-ARAM Wellness and Healthcare, Shillong, Meghalaya. Views expressed are that of the author and do not reflect EastMojo’s stance on this or any other issue.
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