On a rainy, freezing afternoon in mid-March, I walked up to the Soho building that houses Pratima Skincare in New York, with a silent prayer that when I walked out awhile later, I would have some answers. I was on the tail end of a bout with bronchitis, just the latest in what seemed like a winter of perpetual illness: Strep throat, a few bad colds, seasonal affective disorder, and at that point bronchitis had left me drained, bummed out, and beyond ready for spring—or really, anything that might indicate there was an end in sight to it all. Which is what brought me to Pratima in the first place—I sought the help of its founder and chief practitioner, Pratima Raichur, who I thought could possibly cure me of that dreadful winter by holistically overhauling my life.