Will My Hair Be Greasy After an Indian Head Massage? (Spoiler: It’s Worse Than You Think)

Let’s cut the bullshit-you’re not asking this because you’re worried about your hair. You’re asking because you’ve seen those Instagram reels of women with their eyes closed, oil dripping down their necks, looking like they just got fucked by a yoga guru in a temple. And now you’re wondering: will my hair be greasy after an Indian head massage? Yeah. It will. And you’re going to love it.

What the fuck is an Indian head massage?

It’s not yoga. It’s not a spa day for your mom. It’s a 30-to-45-minute assault on your scalp, neck, and shoulders with warm oil, thumbs the size of walnuts, and fingers that move like they’ve got a vendetta against your tension. Originating from Ayurveda, this isn’t some New Age gimmick-it’s been used for centuries in India to release stress, improve circulation, and basically make your brain forget it’s 2025 and you’re still stuck in a Zoom meeting.

In London, you’ll find it in tucked-away studios in Notting Hill, hidden basements in Shoreditch, and even a few upscale flats in Chelsea where the therapist wears a silk sari and calls you ‘bhaiya’ like you’re her long-lost cousin. It’s not just a massage. It’s a ritual. And if you’re lucky, the oil they use? It’s sesame, coconut, or almond-warmed, infused with rosemary or peppermint, and applied like a priest blessing a sacrificial lamb.

How do you get it?

You don’t just walk into a Lush and ask for ‘that head thing.’ You need to book. And you need to book smart. Prices in London range from £40 at a dodgy spot in Peckham to £120 at a boutique place in Mayfair. I’ve done both. The £40 one? The therapist was on her phone the whole time. The £120 one? She massaged my third eye for seven minutes straight and whispered, ‘You carry too much rage in your jaw.’ I cried. Then I booked again.

Most places offer 30, 45, or 60-minute sessions. Skip the 30. You’re not here to tick a box. Go for 45 minimum. That’s when the oil starts sinking into your scalp like a slow-motion orgasm. The 60-minute ones? They’ll throw in a shoulder rub and a warm towel wrap. Worth every penny if you’ve been clenching your teeth since Brexit.

Why is it so damn popular?

Because your brain is fried. Your phone buzzes 87 times a day. Your boss thinks ‘quiet quitting’ means you’re lazy. Your girlfriend says you’re ‘emotionally unavailable.’ Meanwhile, your scalp is a warzone of stress hormones and dead skin cells.

An Indian head massage doesn’t just relax you-it rewires you. Studies show it lowers cortisol by up to 40% within 20 minutes. That’s more than a Xanax and twice as legal. You don’t just feel calm-you feel reborn. And here’s the kicker: it’s the only massage where you don’t have to take your clothes off. No awkward nudity. No awkward small talk. Just you, a towel, and a therapist who knows exactly where your tension lives.

I’ve had massages in Bangkok, Bali, and Berlin. None of them made me feel like I’d just been baptized in holy oil. This one does. And that’s why it’s exploding in London. Men are waking up. We’re tired of ‘man up’ bullshit. We want to feel good. And this? This feels like being hugged by your ancestors.

Why is it better than a regular massage?

Because a Swedish massage is like a lukewarm shower. An Indian head massage is a hot bath in a Himalayan spring.

Regular massages target muscles. This one targets your nervous system. Your scalp? It’s got over 100 nerve endings. Every press, every circle, every slow drag of the thumb sends signals straight to your brain saying: ‘Relax. You’re safe.’

It also fixes shit you didn’t even know was broken. Migraines? Gone. Sinus pressure? Dissolved. Sleep? You’ll fall asleep before your head even hits the pillow. And yes-it helps with hair growth. The oil stimulates follicles. I’ve seen guys with bald patches come back with a full head of hair after six sessions. Not magic. Just biology.

And let’s talk about the oil. A regular massage uses lotion. This uses oil. Thick, warm, fragrant oil. It soaks into your skin. It makes your hair look like you just stepped out of a Bollywood movie. And yes-it’s greasy. But not in a ‘I just rolled out of bed’ way. More like ‘I just got kissed by a goddess and she left her perfume on me.’

Will my hair be greasy after? (The real answer)

Yes. Oh god, yes.

But here’s the thing: you’re not supposed to wash it right away. That’s the whole point. The oil needs time to work. Most therapists recommend leaving it on for at least 2 hours. Some suggest overnight. I’ve slept with it on twice. Woke up smelling like a spice market and feeling like I’d been reborn. My girlfriend said I looked ‘mystical.’ She kissed my forehead. Then she asked if I’d do it again next week.

If you’re worried about oil on your pillow? Use a dark towel. Or better yet-book a session in the afternoon. Come out, walk through Soho, let people stare. Let them wonder why you smell like cardamom and confidence. Let them think you’ve got a secret.

And if you’re still paranoid? Wash it with a sulfate-free shampoo. Not the cheap stuff from Boots. Go for a natural one-Klorane, Rahua, or even a DIY mix of apple cider vinegar and water. Don’t scrub. Rinse. Let the oil’s magic linger.

What kind of high will you get?

It’s not a drug. But it feels like one.

First 10 minutes: You’re tense. You’re wondering if you’re doing this right.

Next 15: Your shoulders drop. Your jaw unclenches. You forget your name.

By minute 30: You’re floating. Your scalp tingles. Your eyelids feel like lead. You’re not asleep. You’re not awake. You’re in that sweet, heavy space between.

And then? The therapist stops. You open your eyes. The world feels softer. Quieter. Brighter. You don’t want to move. You don’t want to talk. You just want to sit there, breathing, smelling like a temple, feeling like you’ve been unburdened.

That’s the high. Not euphoria. Not lust. Not drugs. Release. The kind you get when you finally stop fighting yourself.

I’ve had sex with women who left me feeling empty. I’ve had drinks that made me sick. But this? This massage? It’s the only thing that’s ever made me feel whole.

So yeah. Your hair will be greasy.

But your soul? That’s going to be clean.