<p>The reels I scroll through say, “Drink this on an empty stomach to improve digestion.” Another declares it will reduce hair loss, and yet others make similar promises. Since I was particularly interested in stopping myself from leaving DNA trails through my shed hair--crime committed or not--I got hooked.</p>.<p>Then, I noticed there was another solution for the same issue, and then another, until I was drowning in prescribed potions. Thanks to algorithmic recommendation systems, I am now officially in a relationship I never actually signed up for.</p>.Ode to a fighter jet.<p>Invariably, the creator of the reel dramatically points downwards with their index finger to indicate that the ingredients are listed in the captions below. We all know what that is like -- it feels like unlocking a treasure chest, since the miracle potion components are usually hidden like precious gems. Even after applying every existing brain cell, the items that are supposed to work magic are impossible to decipher. When I was a novice scroller, I tilted my head left and right, squinted to read the micro-mini font in pale letters encoded in mystery. Later, as a scroll maestro, I learnt that I didn’t need to adjust contrast or sharpen focus--just take a screenshot and zoom in. A forensic expert would be proud of the effort and progress I made. </p>.<p>The next step, of course, is attempting to make the magic drink or toner, as the case may be. With health drinks, the challenge was deciding which one to consume on an empty stomach, since most cures demanded pride of place as the first thing in the morning. I eventually made a timetable to give each one a fair chance. </p>.<p>I also learnt to label leftovers, since there is always the risk of the morning drink turning into a hair mask. I learnt this the hard way and considered myself lucky it wasn’t the other way around. Given the ingredients are usually curry leaves, fenugreek seeds, turmeric, chia, fennel seeds or amla, it probably wouldn’t have done too much harm,</p>.<p>After trying most of these miracle brews with little result, I arrived at a simple conclusion: drink water because you are thirsty; eat your meals because you are hungry; and add these ingredients where they actually belong.</p>.<p>Our parents and grandparents never needed miracle detox drinks because their kitchens were already wellness labs--minus the hashtags.</p>.<p>Turmeric was in the dal, ginger in the tea, jeera in the tadka, lemon juice in the spinach curry and so on. I cannot fathom why I followed advice of a man urging my hair strands not to submit their resignation, when his scalp resembled a solar panel.</p>.<p>Yet, amind all the herbal garden burps, I did find comfort in one thing: the reels normalise our problems and reassure us emotionally that we are not alone in our struggles.</p><p><em>Disclaimer: The views expressed above are the author's own. They do not necessarily reflect the views of DH.</em></p>
<p>The reels I scroll through say, “Drink this on an empty stomach to improve digestion.” Another declares it will reduce hair loss, and yet others make similar promises. Since I was particularly interested in stopping myself from leaving DNA trails through my shed hair--crime committed or not--I got hooked.</p>.<p>Then, I noticed there was another solution for the same issue, and then another, until I was drowning in prescribed potions. Thanks to algorithmic recommendation systems, I am now officially in a relationship I never actually signed up for.</p>.Ode to a fighter jet.<p>Invariably, the creator of the reel dramatically points downwards with their index finger to indicate that the ingredients are listed in the captions below. We all know what that is like -- it feels like unlocking a treasure chest, since the miracle potion components are usually hidden like precious gems. Even after applying every existing brain cell, the items that are supposed to work magic are impossible to decipher. When I was a novice scroller, I tilted my head left and right, squinted to read the micro-mini font in pale letters encoded in mystery. Later, as a scroll maestro, I learnt that I didn’t need to adjust contrast or sharpen focus--just take a screenshot and zoom in. A forensic expert would be proud of the effort and progress I made. </p>.<p>The next step, of course, is attempting to make the magic drink or toner, as the case may be. With health drinks, the challenge was deciding which one to consume on an empty stomach, since most cures demanded pride of place as the first thing in the morning. I eventually made a timetable to give each one a fair chance. </p>.<p>I also learnt to label leftovers, since there is always the risk of the morning drink turning into a hair mask. I learnt this the hard way and considered myself lucky it wasn’t the other way around. Given the ingredients are usually curry leaves, fenugreek seeds, turmeric, chia, fennel seeds or amla, it probably wouldn’t have done too much harm,</p>.<p>After trying most of these miracle brews with little result, I arrived at a simple conclusion: drink water because you are thirsty; eat your meals because you are hungry; and add these ingredients where they actually belong.</p>.<p>Our parents and grandparents never needed miracle detox drinks because their kitchens were already wellness labs--minus the hashtags.</p>.<p>Turmeric was in the dal, ginger in the tea, jeera in the tadka, lemon juice in the spinach curry and so on. I cannot fathom why I followed advice of a man urging my hair strands not to submit their resignation, when his scalp resembled a solar panel.</p>.<p>Yet, amind all the herbal garden burps, I did find comfort in one thing: the reels normalise our problems and reassure us emotionally that we are not alone in our struggles.</p><p><em>Disclaimer: The views expressed above are the author's own. They do not necessarily reflect the views of DH.</em></p>
