I DON'T KNOW WHAT POSSESSED ME. Maybe it was Mercury retrograde withdrawal. Maybe it was my Gemini need for variety turning on me. Or maybe I just wanted the stars to take the wheel for once. Either way, I woke up one morning and decided I’d plan my entire day based on whatever the horoscopes told me.
Not one, not two—but FOUR of them. Vogue, Times of India, Hindustan Times, and Economic Times. If it had my Sun sign on it, I was listening.
The Times of India told me to wear sky blue and follow my curiosity. I ended up in black, googling medieval weapons.
The Times of India said sky blue was my lucky colour, so I threw on my laundry-day blue tee and told myself I’d keep it on all day. That plan held strong until the afternoon, when I changed into a black top for a meeting. A meeting where I didn’t even end up turning my camera on. Manifesting? Not really. Moodboarding? Always.
I also read that I should “let curiosity replace old plans.” This was my sign to ditch my carefully planned to-do list and instead follow whatever sparked interest in the moment.
That sounded freeing, until I found myself deep-diving into the history of snack jingles, followed by an unplanned scroll session about medieval weaponry (don’t ask). Curiosity didn’t kill the cat, but it definitely killed two hours of my morning.
Somewhere between the snack jingles and the medieval swords, I remembered that I’d skipped breakfast. I debated whether eating something blue would amplify the effect (maybe the blue lays?) But I didn’t. Instead, I microwaved leftover pasta and tried to convince myself it was intentional. This was already turning into a very unserious experiment, but I was too deep in to stop. Maybe that’s the real Gemini curse: committing to chaos with conviction.
Vogue India told me to shine, so I spoke up more and someone said I looked cute while fake-note-taking.
Then Vogue India chimed in with its Pinterest-board wisdom: “Cosmic tip: time to shine.” Shine how? On which stage? Under what light? I was sitting in my pajamas, switching between five tabs and wondering if instant noodles counted as a spiritual reset.
There’s something about Vogue’s horoscopes, they always sound like they were written by someone in a sun-drenched linen set, surrounded by scented candles and the emotional vocabulary of a therapist. But in my corner of the world, I was just hoping my Wi-Fi wouldn’t drop. Still, I tried. I took a deep breath before every interaction, tried to be a little more articulate, a little more visible. No one clapped. But someone did say I looked cute pretending to take notes. I’m counting it.
Economic Times told me to express myself. I overshared and got checked on.
Then came the Economic Times, which said that it was a great day to express myself, pitch bold ideas, even make career moves. Inspired, I sent a long message to my editor about an idea I hadn’t properly thought through. I also sent cryptic messages to my friends that I thought sounded wise. Spoiler: it wasn’t. By noon, I had a polite message asking if I was okay. The horoscope hadn’t warned me that oversharing is also communication.
At this point, I was really trying to find signs, like maybe if someone used the word “pivot” on Slack, I’d know I was on the right track. Instead, I got a “we’ll circle back.” Nothing cosmic there. Still, I stuck with the horoscope’s advice. I communicated more than usual, which, as it turns out, is a slippery slope for a Gemini. One minute you're being expressive, the next you're monologuing in a voice note that sounds like a podcast no one asked for.
Hindustan Times said to budget, and weirdly, that one made the most sense.
Hindustan Times was more practical: “focus on budgeting.”
This was, in a word, inconvenient. But I tried. I made coffee at home instead of ordering in, declined an impulse lunch invite, and tracked my expenses for the day. Honestly? This felt the most helpful, not in a “wow, horoscopes work” way, but more like, sometimes you just need a reminder to do the adult thing.
The tarot card reading told me not to overextend myself, so I said no—and it felt great.
I even followed the tarot card reading of the day for Gemini, which pulled the Six of Pentacles, about balance, generosity, and making sure I wasn’t overextending myself. I tested this by saying no to a favour I didn’t have the energy for. I felt guilty for a minute, then really glad. This part, surprisingly, felt the most accurate. I needed that nudge.
By the end of the day, I wasn’t more aligned, manifesting, or magically transformed. But I did notice things I usually don’t, like how easily I abandon structure, how often I default to autopilot, and how even a vague instruction like “focus on budgeting” can nudge you toward something useful.
Trying to follow horoscopes made me more present, if not more enlightened. It turned ordinary parts of my day into little check-ins. And maybe that’s the point—not that the stars control your life, but that they occasionally give you an excuse to look at it a little differently.