Ashwagandha has become a celebrity. Not the kind that stars in K-dramas or IPL ads, but it has the same effect: endless claims, dramatic makeovers, and plenty of gossip. “Doctor, can I take Ashwagandha to increase height?” a 32-year-old asked me earnestly last week. Another asked if it could help her to win back her ex. I’ve heard everything—from Ashwagandha as a cure for baldness, belly fat, broken dreams, to its new avatar as a modern-day Viagra. It’s flattering how much hope people place in a humble root.
If herbs were people, Ashwagandha would be the one everyone wants to marry: potent, silent, and mysteriously effective. But like most arranged marriages, the fantasy and the reality often don’t match. So let’s dig into this earthy root with a bit of honesty, some science, and a generous dose of everyday humour.
Ashwagandha, or Withania somnifera, literally means “the smell of a horse.” Not because horses take it (though they might benefit), but because it is believed to bestow the strength and stamina of one. Some patients recoil at the name—“Horse smell? You’re kidding, right?” However, I reassure them that it’s not about aroma, but rather about energy. In Ayurveda, it’s classified as a rasayana—a rejuvenator. It nourishes ojas, the essence of immunity, vitality, and well-being. But Ashwagandha is not a Red Bull. It doesn’t give you wings overnight. It works best when your lifestyle isn’t in shambles.
Take Mr. Harish, for example. A 36-year-old techie, exhausted, pale, and proudly surviving on four hours of sleep, came in asking for Ashwagandha tablets. “Doctor, I need energy. And a six-pack,” he added. I smiled. “Ashwagandha can help,” I said, “but not if your dinner is at midnight, your brain is on Netflix, and your gym membership is your only workout.” Herbs are not miracle workers; they are teammates. You run the relay with them, not throw them the baton and sit down.
One of the biggest myths is that Ashwagandha is safe for everyone in every dose. Wrong. I’ve seen people self-dose like it’s a multivitamin. A 70-year-old retired colonel took high-dose Ashwagandha powder for “testosterone.” He ended up with insomnia, heat rashes, and a very irritable wife. Ashwagandha, although calming for many, can cause excessive pitta in individuals already prone to high internal heat. It’s warm, heavy, slightly oily—a kapha-vata balancer—but not everyone’s cup of kashaya.
Modern research has validated many traditional claims. Studies show that Ashwagandha can reduce cortisol (the primary stress hormone), improve testosterone levels in men, enhance muscle mass and strength, and even support thyroid function in certain types of hypothyroidism. But the devil is in the details. It doesn’t work the same in hyperthyroidism. And in some anxious patients, especially with a history of palpitations(supraventricular tachycardia), it can paradoxically worsen anxiety when not dosed correctly.
What I’ve seen in practice is that Ashwagandha works best when the nervous system is frayed, digestion is weak, and energy is low, not in people who are already overheated and hyperdriven. It’s brilliant for young mothers post-delivery, students preparing for exams, men going through mid-life crises, and women dealing with hormonal turbulence. But give it to someone with chronic acidity, and you’ll have a flaming complaint.
And oh, the obsession with formulations. “Doctor, should I take the capsule, the powder, or the lehya?” Well, here’s a tip: powders (churna) are more prabhava-driven, immediate in action, but more complex to digest for some. Capsules are easy but often too low in dose. The classical Ashwagandhadi lehyam—with ghee, jaggery, and spices—is my personal favourite, especially for post-illness recovery and fatigue. I once prescribed it to a retired banker with post-COVID fatigue. He came back with glowing cheeks and a request to buy it in bulk for his entire walking group. It became the morning ritual for six uncles who otherwise debated politics on the park bench. Now they argue about who walked the most laps, thanks to Ashwagandha-fueled vigour.
And then there are dosage disasters. A young gym-goer once boasted about taking 10 grams a day. “More muscles, faster, right?” he grinned. He developed bloating, mouth ulcers, and vivid nightmares. I had to remind him that Ashwagandha isn’t like whey protein—it’s a medhya rasayana, a mind-body herb that requires thoughtful dosing. In my clinic, I typically start with 3–5 grams of powder at night, mixed with warm milk or ghee, for individuals who need to experience calmness. For individuals with weak digestion, a capsule or tablet of 250–500 mg taken twice daily is a safer option.
Then there are delightful surprises. One patient, a 60-year-old Kannada writer, came to me with writer’s block. After ruling out depression, I prescribed Ashwagandha with Brahmi. Four weeks later, he was back—eyes twinkling and manuscript complete. “Doctor, this root is like Saraswati’s blessing!” he declared. Maybe not Saraswati herself, but surely her pharmacist.
I must admit, Ashwagandha has a personality. It’s calming but strong, grounding but expansive. And like any good friend, it thrives in the right environment. Combine it with good sleep, warm food, and reduced screen time, and it becomes a rejuvenator. Mix it with late-night parties and cold pizza, and it becomes a confused herb trying to do CPR on a sinking ship.
People ask me if they can take it forever. I say, don’t fall in love blindly. Use it like a tonic, take breaks, and listen to your body. In Ayurveda, even the best herb can become viruddha (incompatible) if the context is ignored. I’ve seen people do better with low doses ( 300 mg O.D.) taken rhythmically than with high doses taken impulsively.
Ashwagandha is like that quiet student in class who consistently topped the exams but never boasted about it. Turmeric was the popular kid. Amla got the beauty votes. But Ashwagandha—he just sat there, silently fixing the system, helping the body reboot. Now that he’s found fame, I only hope he doesn’t get misused by the supplement industry and misunderstood by the masses.
My advice. Before you pop that Ashwagandha pill or powder, ask yourself: Am I exhausted, or is it just distraction? Do I need rest or a stimulant? Is my digestion ready for a tonic, or should I first address my gut health? Ashwagandha isn’t a shortcut; it’s a partner in the healing process. Please treat it with the same respect you’d give a wise elder, not a caffeinated intern.
Ayurveda reminds us that healing is rhythm, not race. Ashwagandha teaches that lesson beautifully. Not through drama, but through quiet strength. Not by hyping itself, but by showing up for the tired, the frayed, the forgotten. And if we sit still long enough, it might even bring the horse back into our hearts.
