Tulsi: a ritual, a plant, or medicine?
In so many Indian homes, there’s a little corner—maybe in the courtyard, on a balcony, or near a sunny window—where a tulsi plant sits quietly in its own special spot. Sometimes it's surrounded by flowers or planted inside a small raised altar called a vrindavan.
Every morning, someone lights a diya, pours water, and folds their hands in front of it as a form of prayer. It’s a small, everyday ritual—simple, quiet, and full of reverence.
The tulsi plant is believed to be the earthly form of Goddess Tulsi, a consort of Lord Vishnu. Ancient texts describe it as a sacred bridge between heaven and earth. It’s said that the Ganges flows through its roots, and that all the gods live within it. No wonder tulsi is part of every prayer offering. Offering tulsi leaves during prayer is considered one of the most auspicious things you can do.
It’s more than just a plant.
It’s a presence.
What Exactly Is Tulsi?
Tulsi—also known as holy basil—is a leafy herb from the mint family. There are green and purple varieties, and its smell is unmistakably fresh and comforting.
In India, it’s not just used in herbal remedies or cooking—it’s loved. Revered. Even worshipped.
Growing up, we started the day with a glass of warm water and tulsi leaves. If you had a cold, someone would instantly make chai with tulsi and ginger—and somehow, like magic, you’d feel better. Tulsi just has that kind of healing energy.
It’s the kind of plant that gets its own rituals. Lighting a lamp. Offering water. Whispering a prayer. In many ways, tulsi is an anchor in the Indian home—something that stays steady, even as everything around us changes.
Daily Rituals: The Gentle Power of Tulsi
My grandmother swore by tulsi. She believed it brought balance—not just to the body, but to the energy of the home. If the air felt heavy, if someone wasn’t well, or if the day felt off—out came the tulsi.
Sometimes I’d see her meditating or chanting mantras with a tulsi mala—a necklace made from the stems of the tulsi plant. She used it as a way to connect with the divine.
And when she made ghee from scratch, she’d drop in a single tulsi leaf just before turning off the flame.
I once asked her why.
She smiled and said,
“It keeps the ghee pure, and the home blessed.”
It turns out tulsi has antimicrobial properties that can help preserve ghee. But for her, it wasn’t about the science. It was about the intention—infusing what we cook, eat, and offer with care, prayer, and presence.
How to Make Ghee with Tulsi: A Simple, Sacred Recipe
Making ghee at home is one of those slow, meditative kitchen rituals that just feels good. It smells warm and nutty, it soothes your senses, and the result is a golden jar of goodness that feels like comfort itself.
✨ Ingredients:
1 lb (450g) unsalted cultured or pasture-raised butter
1 fresh tulsi leaf, washed and dried
A heavy-bottomed saucepan
A clean glass jar with a lid
A fine mesh strainer or cheesecloth
Method:
1. Melt the Butter
Add the butter to a heavy-bottomed saucepan and melt over medium-low heat. No need to stir—just let it slowly do its thing.
2. Simmer Gently
The butter will start to bubble and foam as the water evaporates. You’ll hear it crackling a bit—this is a good sign.
3. Wait for the Magic
After 15–20 minutes, you’ll notice the milk solids settling at the bottom and beginning to brown. The butter will turn a clear golden color and give off the most delicious aroma.
4. Add Tulsi
Just before switching off the heat, drop in the tulsi leaf. It might sizzle a little—let it infuse for 30 seconds to a minute.
5. Strain and Store
Let the ghee cool slightly, then pour it through a fine strainer or cheesecloth into your jar. Discard the solids at the bottom. You can remove the tulsi leaf—or leave it in as a gentle reminder of the care you put in.
6. Cool Completely
Once the ghee is cool, seal the jar. No need to refrigerate—it can sit on your counter for months.
Why These Rituals Matter
In today’s fast-paced world, where everything is pre-made and life moves at a blur, these little rituals bring us back to ourselves.
Lighting a lamp next to your tulsi plant. Stirring a pot of ghee with care. Offering a leaf in prayer. They’re small acts, but they hold so much.
Stillness, presence, warmth.
They’re meditations in motion.
They remind us that healing and nourishment don’t always come from the big things. Sometimes it’s in the leaf you brew into tea, the intention you place into your food, or the quiet moment beside a plant that’s been in our families for generations.
Tulsi Is More Than a Plant
She’s the healer in our kitchen.
The bridge between science and spirit, routine and ritual.
If you have a tulsi plant at home, maybe spend a moment with her today.
Water her. Thank her. Maybe even whisper a wish.
She’s listening.
And while San Francisco fog and tulsi don’t always get along—so I don’t have one right now— but the feeling still remains. The ritual lives on.