Dahi, Diyas and Dopamine: How Traditional Rituals Support Mental Health and Mindfulness

Written by: Muskan Shah, Moitrayee Das

Before every important event or exam, right when I had one foot outside the door, my mother would rush toward me armed with a spoonful of dahi-chini. I would roll my eyes and pretend to be annoyed, but still waited for her to feed it to me. Now, after having lived away from home for five years for my studies, I continue this same practice myself. These small rituals that somehow packed themselves into my suitcase across cities have started to feel like anchors. What was previously dismissed as blind faith or superstition has now become a ritual—tiny psychological anchors that help me feel connected to those around me and to home, even when I am miles away.

Many of us have grown up witnessing, if not performing, traditional rituals on a daily basis. The black dot our mothers put behind our ears to ward off nazar, the chilli and lemon hanging from car bonnets or above doorways, chanting a small prayer before beginning a journey—these are all small rituals deeply embedded in our lives and culture. Rituals hold a deeper meaning; they are not just actions mindlessly repeated through generations, but gestures of care. They convey silent messages—“be safe”—and a sense of security, love, and faith. They are structured actions that send our minds signals of safety and comfort during uncertain situations. For generations, these rituals have equipped mothers and grandmothers with tools for protection against periods of material insecurity—economic hardship, illness, or political unrest. The morning puja doesn’t just set the tone for the day; it soothes the existential anxiety that accompanies an unpredictable future.

Over the years, as a generation, we have inherited these rituals from our elders—touching their feet at events without consciously deciding to, or folding our hands in prayer whenever we see an idol. Although we question and rationalise the logic behind these actions, we continue to practise them. This is because, while the spoon of dahi-chini doesn’t actually change anything concrete, it changes how we feel: it makes us feel secure and confident—and that’s what matters. For a generation that grew up in the late 1990s or early 2000s, we often find ourselves in a bind. While we love laughing at astrology memes and advertisements, we still glance at horoscopes and check our rashi before making decisions. Rituals may seem irrational, but they are also too sentimental to completely let go of. So, we have transformed our views on them. What our parents did out of faith and duty, we see as opportunities to gain focus and ground ourselves in the moment. We may not touch our elders’ feet for blessings, but as an act of humility. We may not water a plant in the morning out of devotion, but as a moment of mindfulness before the day begins. The universal language communicated through these gestures tethers us in a constantly changing world, reinforcing order, rhythm, and belonging.

The current generation is not eradicating rituals but transforming them—aarti playlists coming from Spotify, affirmations in place of mantras, scented candles to unwind instead of lamps at dusk, or digital detoxes replacing fasts to improve self-discipline. Yet the core of these behaviours remains the same; the purpose of each of these actions is rooted in mindfulness. These micro-mindfulness behaviours ground us in the present, calming the nervous system and signalling that it’s okay to slow down. By engaging multiple senses, rituals create an embodied mindfulness experience—activating sensory awareness through standardised actions. Even during a brief prayer, when you stand before an idol, the focus is on the feel of marble under bare feet, the ringing bells, the pandit’s chants, and the familiar scent of incense.

At the core of it, there is also a quieter force at work. Rituals weave generations together, no matter where family members live or what their individual beliefs may be. My great-grandmother fed rotis to cows; I have replaced that by feeding street dogs and donating to shelters. While the act has changed, the core intention—to practise compassion every day—remains intact. This sense of continuity strengthens familial roots, identity, and emotional resilience (Arora, 2024; Imber-Black, 2020; Li et al., 2024). Now when my mother ties the black knotted thread around my wrist, it no longer signifies warding off nazar—it reminds me of my grandmother’s love every time I touch it.

For the current generation, as cities and lifestyles change and grow busier, rituals are fading. These small acts are no longer about spirituality or religiosity; they are psychological. Therapeutic recommendations for self-soothing—gratitude, mindfulness, repetition of positive phrases—were once part of our elders’ daily routines through prayers and ritualistic practices. It is not about the act itself as much as it is about helping us survive increasingly unpredictable times by giving us some symbolic control over our lives. Predictable sequences of actions reduce cortisol, practising gratitude boosts feel-good neurotransmitters like dopamine and serotonin, and sensory cues during chanting or lighting candles soothe the nervous system and induce relaxation (Perry et al., 2024; Calderone et al., 2024; Finck et al., 2023).

When we engage in a ritual, we give our negative feelings—anxiety, fear, worry—a task. Once the task is completed, we can let go of these feelings and cognitively off-load. Losing these rituals means losing traditionally built-in mechanisms for reflection, gratitude, and meaningful connection with ourselves and our communities. This doesn’t mean we must adopt older rituals blindly, but rather that they can lay the foundation as we create new rituals in therapy rooms, cafés, or our homes. Reinterpreting rituals doesn’t dilute their meaning; it builds on existing emotional architecture and keeps intention and gesture alive in sustainable ways.

The reason rituals work cannot be pinned down to any single explanation—perhaps it is the comfort of repetition, a biochemical process, or simply childhood memory. Nevertheless, they bring calm to chaos and offer reassurance—and that is what matters. Rituals may be modified or modernised, but their core intention and underlying emotion remain the same as they always have been: to bring structure, order, and a return to the present moment. Perhaps that is what rituals and spirituality truly are—not sets of rigid rules, but a calming language we can continue discovering and rewriting, bit by bit.

References:

Arora, A. (2024). Family rituals, assertiveness, and self-compassion among emerging adults in India. The International Journal of Indian Psychology, 12(3), Article 166. https://doi.org/10.25215/1203.166

Calderone, A., et al. (2024). Neurobiological changes induced by mindfulness and meditation: A review of mechanisms and clinical relevance. Biomedicines, 12(11), 2613. https://doi.org/10.3390/biomedicines12112613

Finck, C., Avila, A., Jiménez-Leal, W., Botero, J. P., Shambo, D., Hernandez, S., Reinoso-Carvalho, F., & Andonova, V. (2023). A multisensory mindfulness experience: exploring the promotion of sensory awareness as a mindfulness practice. Frontiers in psychology, 14, 1230832. https://doi.org/10.3389/fpsyg.2023.1230832

Imber-Black, E. (2020). Rituals in the time of COVID-19. Family Process, 59(3), 912–922. https://doi.org/10.1111/famp.12604.

Li, D., Zhang, X., & Wang, Y. (2024). Forming national identity with televised cultural rituals: A critical discourse analysis of China’s Ancient Rhyme and New Voice—Qingming program. Frontiers in Psychology, 15, Article 1471431. https://doi.org/10.3389/fpsyg.2024.1471431.

Perry, G., Polito, V., & Thompson, W. F. (2024). Exploring the physiological and psychological effects of group chanting in Australia: Reduced stress, cortisol and enhanced social connection. Journal of Religion and Health, 63, 4793–4815. https://doi.org/10.1007/s10943-023-01967-5

Muskan Shah is a postgraduate student at Christ University and Moitrayee Das is an assistant professor of Psychology at FLAME University, Pune.