According to Eastern spiritual teachings, we come equipped with seven chakras, through which we are connected to the cosmic life energy of the universe. It is said that through these channels all wisdom and enlightenment flows. Through the ages, yogic masters have developed a set of strict regimens to maintain and expand the chakras; they involve lots of breathing, meditation and extremely painful-looking bodily contortions. Hey, if scratching your back using the balls of your feet helps you along the road to divine knowledge, more power to you.

But for those who believe that the true path to the soul runs from mouth to belly, we suggest you head over to Chakra where spiritual edification is served with a side of garlic naan ($3) and a tall, icy smooth mango shake ($5). This modest little midtown Indian Restaurant may seem an unlikely place to find culinary nirvana — given that owner Johnson Yohannan’s biggest claim to fame is heading up Pizza Hut’s gooey invasion of Southeast Asia. Yet just three months in, from the serenity-­inspiring Gregory Burns art on the walls, through the generously measured portions of happy contentment being doled out by the open kitchen, Yohannan is doing an impressive job of proving his gastro-guru potential.

An octet of vegetable pakoras ($8) are a supremely flavourful chickpea-battered elation. Plump Gulf of Mexico prawns ($14) arrive artfully plated on a rectangular banana leaf mat, with swirls of mango puree that provide a sweet counter-point to the spicy stewed tomato salsa atop each of these juicy morsels. Messy? You betcha. But then, many of the best things in life are.

A kitchen brigade of four proves that street-eats can be truly gourmet with a super rendition of seekh kebab ($9). We’re a little surprised when our server asks for a colour on these tasty grilled skewers, made from ground lamb seasoned with a blend of green chilies, ginger, cumin and mint pressed around a stick. Thankfully, the kitchen ignores our medium-rare request, instead sending them out a lusciously moist medium. (Any true Indian cook worth his weight in garam masala would rather stick a hot poker in his eye than serve pink meat.)

Murgh “lollipops” ($9), just a fancy name for fried chicken drumettes, impress with a cumin-laced batter and foil-wrapped ends. But these mini bites are a bit too fatty. Come up with any cutesy name you like; at the end of the day they’re still just chicken wings for dilettantes who don’t want to get their fingers dirty. A short rib beef curry ($16) also fails to elicit any meaningful insights into the grand mysteries of the universe. A rich, earthy gravy — resplendent with fragrant cardamom pods and hints of smoky cumin seeds and anise — takes us closer to the clouds. But somewhat chewy meat with improperly rendered fat deposits drag us back down to terra firma.

No matter. One taste of the tandoori salmon ($15) has us skyward yet again. Pink cubes of Atlantic perfection melt in the mouth, while a peppery wet rub packs enough heat to keep your third eye open for a month. But it’s the kulcha ($4), a simply wicked flatbread stuffed with spiced ground lamb, that’s bound to become the empanada of 2008.

Overpriced desserts dampen our reverie. A mango sponge cake ($9) is moist enough, and a gold foil–stamped shard of chocolate earns points for attention to detail, but, c’mon, nine bucks? Then again, nobody ever said the journey to peaceful tranquility was without its challenges. But with the addition of Chakra to the list of tasting temples, Toronto foodies interested in satisfying their inner culinary consciousness just got a bit easier. OHM-MMM-MMM-MMM.