Thursday, May 29, 2025

Touch Starvation: India’s Silent Epidemic

A digital illustration in soft, semi-realistic style showing two human hands, one male and one female, reaching out towards each other but not quite touching. Their fingertips hover millimeters apart, set against a warm, blurred background that evokes emotional distance and longing.
Touch Starvation
Remember Touch? Yeah, Neither Do We.

Raise your hand if your last genuine hug wasn’t a trauma response from your mom after your NEET results. Or worse, an awkward half-hug at a wedding where someone’s dupatta got caught in your earring. Congratulations: you’re part of India’s growing club of touch-starved adults silently spiralling into emotional decay.

We talk about screen fatigue, productivity burnout, emotional trauma, toxic positivity — oh wait, we already did that here, here, and definitely here.
But let’s address the elephant in the (lonely) room: physical affection is dying, and our nervous systems are waving white flags.



What is Touch Starvation?

(And why does it sound like a Netflix documentary on sadness)

Touch starvation, or “skin hunger,” is a real psychological and physiological condition where a person lacks enough physical human contact — hugs, pats, cuddles, even that weird head-tilt uncle shoulder tap.

Touch releases oxytocin, lowers cortisol, regulates your heart rate, and reminds your brain: “Hey, you're not alone. You're still part of the tribe.”
No touch = chronic anxiety, depression, irritability, and—drumroll—emotional dysfunction disguised as grind culture.


Welcome to India, Where Touch is...Complicated

In India, we either over-touch without consent or under-touch due to moral panic. There is no in-between.

“Beta, touch feet.”
Not affection. It's hierarchy.

“Don't hug, neighbors are watching.”
Because obviously physical affection is anti-national.

Boys? Forbidden to touch anyone without getting labeled.
Girls? Warned since birth that hugs = pregnancy.

Couples? Hug behind autos or risk becoming a viral video on Sanskari Sansani.
We're a country where holding hands is scandalous but sitting on each other’s laps in a family photo is somehow fine.


How the World Is Coping vs How We're Coping

Let’s look at global responses to touch starvation — and then look in the mirror.

France:
“Let’s greet each other with two kisses.”
India: “Namaste. Don’t touch. Don't even blink.”

Brazil:
Hugs and cheek-kisses with strangers.
India: “Who is this random uncle and why is he offering coconut oil with that handshake?”

USA:
Cuddle therapy, professional cuddlers, emotional safe spaces.
India: “We’ll die before paying ₹1,500 to be spooned by a stranger.”

Japan:
Hug cafes, robotic pets for oxytocin boost.
India: We got Swiggy. And memes. And silent cries in the washroom.

We skipped the “touch innovation” phase and dove headfirst into “hug = hookup = dishonour.”


The Pandemic Made It Worse (Obviously)

COVID didn’t just kill hugs — it murdered non-creepy physical contact. Even post-pandemic, we’re hesitant.

Elbow bumps replaced handshakes.
Zoom calls replaced cheek kisses.
Emoji hearts replaced real ones.

And now, in 2025, people are scared of intimacy altogether. It's not fear of germs anymore. It’s fear of… feeling something.

Remember that time when someone sat too close on a metro and your brain screamed “INTRUSION!” instead of “Wow, human proximity!”
Yeah, your nervous system’s been hacked.


Real Desi Examples: Hugs Are Endangered

The Roommate Hug:
You want to hug her after a bad breakup. She hands you a chai instead.

The Family Avoidance:
You haven’t hugged your dad in a decade. But every birthday he pats your shoulder like you're his cricket coach.

The Relationship Dry Spell:
Been in a situationship for months and still haven’t held hands because “we’re keeping it lowkey.”
Related read: Cry, Have Sex, Repeat

Touch is awkward, even when you’re emotionally close. Because in India, intimacy is scandal, not self-care.


But We Touch Screens 12 Hours a Day

Let’s not forget the absurd irony:
We’re physically starving for touch, but digitally overstimulated AF.

We double-tap strangers on Instagram.
Swipe on people we’ll never meet.
Watch couple reels while dying inside.
(Refer: Dating App Fatigue is Real)

We’ve replaced cuddling with doomscrolling and replaced relationships with “soft-launching” your arm on someone else’s story.


The Emotional Fallout You Don’t Notice

Lack of touch doesn’t just make you sad. It rewires your emotional map:

▪ You become more irritable and cynical (hi, welcome).
▪ You find it harder to trust people.
▪ You confuse digital validation for love.
▪ You self-isolate even when you’re not alone.
(See: Digital Loneliness in 2025)

The next time you snap at someone for breathing loudly or send 17 “K”s to end an argument, ask yourself — when was the last time I got a real hug?


The Identity Crisis of Touch

In India, touch isn’t just a physical act. It’s tied to identity, gender roles, and social anxiety.

If you're too touchy, you're “loose.”
If you're not touchy, you're “cold.”
If you're male and affectionate, you're “weak.”
If you're female and affectionate, you're “asking for it.”

Touch becomes a risk analysis:
Will I be misunderstood?
Will this ruin my reputation?
Will this make someone uncomfortable?

So we freeze. Not because we don’t need affection, but because we’re scared of what it means.
And that fear? It's making us emotionally constipated as a culture.


But Touch Is Also Political in India

Let’s get one thing straight: touch isn’t just personal — it’s policed.

Who gets to hug? Who gets judged for it? Who gets moral-policed into oblivion for holding hands in a park?

Touch in India is tangled in power dynamics, gender roles, class, and yes — caste.

Two men hugging in a Bollywood movie? “Aww, bromance.”
Two men hugging in a village panchayat? “Why are they like this?”

Upper-class couples at airport terminals? PDA = aesthetic.
Working-class folks holding hands? PDA = vulgar.

Queer affection in public? Still taboo, still dangerous.
Straight couples? Also taboo — just slightly less dangerous.

Touch is a soft privilege. The freedom to be emotionally and physically vulnerable in public depends on where you stand in India’s socio-cultural hierarchy.

So while we laugh about awkward hugs, there are entire groups who can’t access safe, consensual touch without fear of backlash, shame, or worse — violence.

And that’s not just touch starvation. That’s touch inequality.


So What’s the Solution? Do We Start Hugging Randoms?

No, please don’t make that your origin story for jail time.

But here are actual ways to bring back touch:

  • Normalize Platonic Affection

No, your guy friend won’t explode if you hug him after he cries. In fact, maybe he won’t become the next emotionally stunted gym bro if you do.
Yes, this links to Cry, Have Sex, Repeat.

  • Initiate Family Affection

Yeah, Indian parents are awkward. So be the cringe rebel. Hug your dad. Side hug your mom. Expect confusion. Persist anyway.

  • Get a Pet. Or Two.

You think you need therapy. Maybe you just need a cat who headbutts you without judgment.

  • Cuddle. With Consent.

You don’t have to dive into the deep end. Even hand-holding, back pats, or sitting close on the couch counts. Your nervous system isn’t picky.

  • Break the “Sanskaari” Brainwashing

Touch ≠ sex.
Touch ≠ shame.
Touch = humanity.
(Unless you’re a serial hugger at funerals. Then stop.)


The TL;DR?

India is touch-starved AF, and we’re pretending it’s normal to go years without meaningful physical connection.

We have:
🧠 Brains fried from emotional labor (Mental Load is Killing Indian Women)
πŸ“± Dopamine sucked out by tech addiction
πŸ›Œ Emotions outsourced to therapy reels
πŸ’¬ And now, no hugs. Just “lol” texts and three-day-delayed replies

It’s not just a physical gap. It’s an existential one. We’re not just lonely.
We’re untouched — emotionally, socially, culturally.


Final Thought:

Touch isn’t weakness. It’s biology.

We didn’t evolve with opposable thumbs just to scroll endlessly.
We evolved to connect — to pat backs, hold hands, ruffle hair, and occasionally ugly cry into someone’s hoodie.

Go give someone a real hug today. Just make sure you both agree on it.
And don’t make it weird.


Loved this? Read more emotional chaos:
πŸ‘‰ Digital Loneliness in 2025
πŸ‘‰ Mental Load is Killing Indian Women
πŸ‘‰ Cry, Have Sex, Repeat
πŸ‘‰Productivity Guilt? Welcome to Middle Class Hell










Tuesday, May 27, 2025

Mental Load Is Killing Indian Women (Silently)

Animated illustration of an overwhelmed Indian woman juggling household chores, work tasks, and childcare icons. Her expression fades from calm to exhaustion as the chaos builds around her.

1. You’re Not a Wife. You’re the Family’s Operating System

Because “log kya kahenge” doesn’t run itself.

  • Let’s face it: you’re not a person anymore. You’re a Google Calendar with legs.

  • Who remembers birthdays, bills, baby vaccinations, bahu-dadi diplomacy, and your husband’s boss’s cat’s funeral? You. Always you.

  • Indian women don’t live. They orchestrate. A wedding, a dinner, a toddler tantrum, a monthly Excel of who likes “less sugar in chai”—while working full-time and staying 10kg under societal pressure.

  • The others? They roam around like NPCs in a family drama.

  • “You should’ve reminded me!”—a grown man who can track IPL stats but forgets his own child’s school PTM.

  • Mental load isn’t about doing everything—it’s about carrying the anxiety of everything. Always.

πŸ“Œ Real-life: Rupa in Pune once forgot to buy atta and broke down crying. Why? Not because of the atta. But because no one else in the house even knew they were out.

πŸ”— Toxic Positivity explains why women are told to “just breathe” when they’re drowning in mental alerts no one else can see.


2. Stats Don’t Lie, But Families Still Say “Beta, Adjust Karlo”

Indian women are dying inside, and the only feedback they get is “have one more child.”

  • 75% of Indian women (YourDOST, 2023) feel solely responsible for emotional logistics. That’s scheduling, remembering, managing—and pretending it’s no big deal.

  • OECD data: Indian women do over 5 hours of unpaid work daily. Men? Just 29 minutes. That’s not a gap. That’s a galaxy.

  • “One more child” isn’t a blessing. It’s a bombshell.

  • India’s obsession with producing male heirs has turned childbirth into a family-funded pressure cooker.

  • Real convo: “You should go for a second baby.”
    Me: “I can barely keep my bladder functional and you want me to make another person?”

πŸ“Œ Story: Priya from Bhopal was told by her MIL that having just one child “was selfish.” She already had postpartum depression. But guess what? “Parivaar bada hona chahiye.”

πŸ”— Trauma Is Trending talks about how collective denial has turned daily suffering into a national hobby.


3. Indian Men: Still Waiting for Their Emotional Puberty

If he can manage a crypto wallet, he can manage a baby wipe.

  • The bar is so low it’s six feet under. “He helped with dishes once” gets him MVP status.

  • “I’m tired too” he says—after one Zoom call, two samosas, and a nap.

  • Most Indian husbands treat emotional labor like UPI fraud—“Not my job, don’t know how it works.”

  • Their idea of support? “Just tell me what to do”—aka, outsource thinking while getting full credit.

  • Indian women are tired of explaining why keeping track of everyone’s tiffin box lids counts as work.

πŸ“Œ Real story: Niharika, a startup lead in Gurgaon, once asked her husband to book their child’s vaccination. He replied, “You’re better with health stuff.” Aka: “My job is money. Your job is everything else.”

πŸ”— Middle-Class Productivity Guilt: Why men justify their absence at home by romanticising their workload—even if it’s just replying to Slack with a thumbs up.


4. Self-Care? No, What Women Need Is Self-Preservation

Bubble baths can’t wash away generational trauma.

  • “Take care of yourself” sounds cute until you realize the only “me-time” you get is in traffic or while defrosting aloo.

  • You can’t “spa your way out” of a system built to grind you quietly.

  • Self-care has become capitalist gaslighting. Here, have this lavender candle. Now go be Superwoman again.

  • Deep breathing doesn’t fix what generations of emotional neglect have built.

  • Even doing self-care becomes another task. “Did I journal today? Did I fail at relaxing properly too?”

πŸ“Œ Data check: A Harvard Business Review study (2023) showed women often experience guilt and failure during self-care because the mental load stays—even in the bathtub.

πŸ”— Crying & Emotional Release: When crying in the shower becomes your only therapy.


5. She’s Not a Goddess. She’s Tired.

Stop saying she’s Devi. Start treating her like a damn human.

  • “Strong women raise strong families” sounds great. Until the strong woman becomes a collapsed shell with migraines and iron deficiency.

  • We mythologize mothers into martyrs. Guess who benefits? Everyone except the mother.

  • “She never asks for anything” isn’t noble—it’s emotional neglect rebranded.

  • Why is it easier to worship Durga but impossible to pick up your own damn socks?

πŸ“Œ True tale: Deepa, a 60-year-old grandmother in Chennai, still cooks for her 35-year-old son and his wife—because “he likes only maa ke haath ka khana.” He earns ₹40L/year. Still emotionally five.

πŸ”— Trauma Is Trending: Because “suffering = strength” is the most dangerous cultural virus we pass on to daughters.


6. The Baby-Career Combo? It’s a Rigged Game

She gave birth, breastfed at 3 AM, and still made PPTs by 9.

  • Indian working moms are told to “balance both” without ever being handed a safety net.

  • Your boss says, “We’re family here”—but god forbid you ask for flexible hours post-maternity leave.

  • A LinkedIn Workplace Equity Study (2024): 52% of Indian women say having a child decreased their promotion chances. For men? It increased their respect at work.

  • “She’s not aggressive enough for leadership” = she’s burned out but still showing up.

  • Meanwhile, men get praise for attending a PTA meeting once a year. “Wow, so involved.”

πŸ“Œ Story: Tanvi, an ad executive in Bangalore, was removed from a client project after returning from maternity leave. Why? “We thought you'd want to slow down.” She didn't.

πŸ”— Marks, Meltdowns & Mental Health: Because the pressure starts young, and grows with every stage of womanhood.


7. A Culture That Needs a System Update, Not a Spa Day

Meditation won't fix what patriarchy built.

  • You can’t fix structural oppression with scented candles and Spotify affirmations.

  • Women don’t need yoga. They need co-parents.

  • Imagine if emotional labour was tracked like house rent. Or if in-laws gifted time off instead of more babies.

  • Stop saying “ghar sambhalna bhi ek kaam hai” like it’s some abstract poetry. Then treat it like an actual job—with leave, backup, and recognition.

πŸ“Œ Micro-solutions that actually help:

  • πŸ“² Shared Google Calendars for chores. If you can set DND for IPL, you can set it for laundry duty.

  • πŸ‘Ά Let dads handle school WhatsApp groups. It’s their kid too.

  • πŸ‘΅ Stop expecting women to prove love by serving tea 5x a day to relatives who think they’re royalty.

πŸ”— Digital Loneliness: Emotional load isn’t visible. But the silence it creates? Deafening.


Final Punch: Her Burnout Isn’t a Phase. It’s a System Crash.

She’s not “too sensitive.” She’s chronically ignored.
She’s not “nagging.” She’s begging to not be the only one who cares.
She’s not dramatic. You’re just under-involved.

This is not “normal life.” It’s death by a thousand paper cuts. And the bandaids are scented but useless.

If you care about Indian women, stop asking them to do more with less. Start doing your share—without applause, hashtags, or Gajar ka Halwa.

Because until the mental load is shared, the damage won’t be visible—
But the cracks will keep getting deeper.

Friday, May 23, 2025

Marks, Meltdowns & Mental Health in India

Animated illustration of a tired South Asian teenage boy sitting alone in a quiet classroom, head resting on his hand, surrounded by open books and scattered exam papers. His slouched posture and furrowed brow reflect stress and exhaustion, capturing the emotional toll of board exam and competitive exam pressure in India
Your board exam result just dropped. So did your self-esteem.

Ah yes, result day. That sacred Indian tradition where lakhs of students, parents, relatives, and neighborhood aunties await the CBSE, NEET, or JEE verdict with bated breath and unstable Wi-Fi.

CBSE Class 10 and 12 results are out. So are the breakdowns, migraines, comparisons, and career counseling suggestions from that uncle who failed physics in Class 11.

But behind every post that says “So proud of my daughter’s 98%,” there are 100 kids wondering if life is over because they didn’t hit 90.

Spoiler: It’s not.
Reality: The student mental health crisis in India is peaking, and no one wants to talk about it—unless it's in the form of a motivational TED Talk.

Let’s fix that.

πŸ“Œ Related: Toxic Positivity Is Hurting Mental Health


The Glorified Trauma of Indian Exams

Let’s look at the 2025 numbers:

  • CBSE Board Exams: ~39 lakh students.

  • NEET UG: 20+ lakh aspirants, only ~1 lakh seats.

  • JEE Advanced: 1.8 lakh sat the exam, ~17,000 IIT seats.

That’s millions of students being told: your future depends on this. No pressure.

Welcome to India’s exam result anxiety epidemic. It’s not just psychological—it’s sociocultural. A bad result doesn’t just mean disappointment. It means:

  • Judgment from family WhatsApp groups.

  • “You ruined our sacrifices” speeches.

  • Social exclusion in group chats.

  • The slow burn of self-hate.

And yet, we glorify exam stress like it’s some rite of passage.

πŸ“Œ Related: Middle-Class Productivity Guilt & Escape


Parental ‘Support’ That Feels Like Passive Aggression

“Beta, marks don’t define you… but you should’ve tried harder like Sharma Ji’s son.”

Welcome to Indian parenting, where love is conditional on performance, and trauma is passed down as “advice.”

Parents mean well. They’re scared. For many, your score isn’t just your future—it’s their retirement plan. But the problem is, emotional security takes a backseat to academic pressure.

Common hits include:

  • “Don’t embarrass us in front of relatives.”

  • “Do you know how much we spent on tuition?”

  • “You’re wasting your potential.”

This creates a high-stress household where kids can't fail safely—even though failure is part of learning.

πŸ“Œ Related: Celebration or Emotional Escape?


Peer Pressure: The Unspoken Anxiety Amplifier

If parents crush your confidence, peers casually dig the grave.

In the age of Instagram, comparison is 24/7. Even your “chill” friends post screenshots of scorecards and hashtags like #AIR34 #NeverGiveUp.

For the average student? It’s a digital reminder of inadequacy.

  • If you got 92%, someone got 98%.

  • If you cleared JEE Mains, someone topped Advanced.

  • If you didn’t post your result, people assume the worst.

Social media amplifies academic shame in subtle but scarring ways.

πŸ“Œ Related: Digital Loneliness in 2025


Coaching Centers: The Mental Health Graveyards

Let’s not ignore the true masterminds behind exam pressure: the coaching industry.

Especially in places like Kota, the NEET and IIT-JEE factories produce toppers at the cost of teen sanity.

Kota reported 29 student suicides in 2024, the highest in a decade.

These institutions promise success but serve:

  • 12–16 hour study routines

  • Little to no emotional support

  • Toxic competition among peers

You’re isolated, sleep-deprived, overworked, and expected to thrive. Mental health? "Focus on your goals" is the only therapy provided.

πŸ“Œ Related: Education, Privilege & Urban Elitism


Even Toppers Burn Out (They Just Smile Through It)

Here’s a dirty secret no one tells you: many toppers crash after they top.

After spending 2–3 years being "exam machines," the minute it ends, they feel:

  • Identity-less

  • Emotionally numb

  • Socially underdeveloped

College isn’t a celebration; it’s often a crash landing.

IITs and AIIMS are full of first-year breakdowns because no one prepares toppers for actual life—only exam life.

A high NEET rank doesn’t protect you from:

  • Imposter syndrome

  • Pressure to perform again

  • Clinical depression

πŸ“Œ Related: The Therapy Trap & Monetized Healing


Mental Health Support? Schools Are Clueless

Let’s talk about the school system’s version of a “mental health plan.”

  • One overburdened counselor for the entire school.

  • Outdated advice like “drink water and go for a walk.”

  • No trauma training, no anonymity, no follow-up.

One Class 12 student shared:

“When I told my school counselor I wanted to disappear, she asked if I prayed regularly.”

We treat mental health like a PR checkbox instead of an actual emergency.

πŸ“Œ Related: Brain Isn’t Wi-Fi, Stop Acting Like It Is


Stats That Should Keep You Up at Night (Not Your Exams)

Let’s hit you with numbers that don’t make news:

  • 13,089 student suicides in 2022. That’s 36 daily. (NCRB)

  • 81% of students (Classes 9–12) report exam anxiety. (NCERT)

  • 62% of NEET droppers show signs of depression.

  • Less than 2% of schools have trained psychological staff.

  • India spends just 0.05% of its health budget on mental health. (WHO)

And yet, we worry more about cutoffs than these numbers.


Solutions? Yes, But We Need More Than Lip Service

✅ Make Mental Health a Core Subject

  • Integrate emotional literacy from Class 6 onward.

  • Mental health days should be as normal as sick leave.

  • Fund professional therapists in every school, not just “life skill” classes.

✅ Educate the Parents, Not Just the Kids

  • Run workshops on parenting under pressure.

  • Normalize academic failures and gap years.

  • Teach how to listen, not lecture.

✅ Shift from “Crack Exam” to “Build Identity”

Encourage alternate paths:

  • Design schools

  • Liberal arts programs

  • Tech bootcamps

  • Freelance careers

Life doesn’t begin and end with NEET or IIT.

πŸ“Œ Related: Digital Detox 2025: Is Escaping Reality Enough?


To the Student Who Feels Broken After Results: Read This

You are more than your board exam marks.
You are more than your NEET or JEE rank.
You are not behind in life. You are not a disappointment.

Repeat after me:

“My mental health matters more than anyone’s expectations.”

Take a break. Re-evaluate. Cry if you need to. You don’t need to “bounce back” in 24 hours. This isn’t a Marvel movie montage. It’s real life.


To Parents: Don’t Be Another Pressure Point

Your child is not your do-over.
They don’t owe you success.
They owe themselves peace.

Say things like:

  • “I’m proud of your effort.”

  • “It’s okay to feel sad.”

  • “Let’s figure out a new plan together.”

Validate them. Don’t project your own fears.

πŸ“Œ Related: Emotional Minimalism: Declutter Social Pressure


Final Thought: Let’s Not Wait for More Suicides to Act

If you care about India's future, care about its students.
Not just the ones who top, but especially the ones who try and fall short.

Because falling short isn’t failure. Suffering in silence is.

The time for sugar-coated hashtags and mental health day photo-ops is over.

Now is the time to:

  • Fund therapists.

  • Train teachers.

  • Counsel parents.

  • Talk about failure.

  • Remove shame.

And most importantly—listen to students before it’s too late.

Wednesday, May 21, 2025

Trauma Is Trending. Healing? Not So Much.

Close-up of a young woman with perfect makeup crying, illuminated by the blue light of a smartphone screen in a dark room.
Welcome to the Internet’s Healing Circus

Let’s cut the crap.

You’re not healing. You’re posting.
And the internet? It’s not your therapist. It’s your stage.

Gone are the days when therapy meant whispering to a shrink behind a mahogany desk. In 2025, it’s a carousel post with minimalist fonts titled “My 7 Inner Child Wounds and How I Aesthetically Cope.”

We’ve turned vulnerability into visibility. Healing into hashtags.
Emotions are now content buckets. You don’t feel anymore—you broadcast.

Instagram, TikTok, Threads—pick your poison. Trauma isn’t a process. It’s a performance. And spoiler alert: we’re all performing like our WiFi bills depend on it.

πŸ“Œ If this hits a nerve, read: Emotional Minimalism – Declutter Your Online Self


The Overshare Olympics: Everyone’s a Finalist

Somewhere between “soft girl healing” and “alpha trauma rebound grindset,” we entered the Overshare Olympics—and baby, there are no bronze medals here.

You get clout for:

  • Crying on camera (bonus if there’s a ring light involved)

  • Writing 10-slide carousels about your breakup like it’s a UN report

  • Making trauma-core edits with Lana Del Rey playing in the background

Pain now performs better than puppies.

It’s not that we’re broken—it’s that our pain is finally marketable.

And when your inner chaos garners likes, why would you ever fix it?

🧠 Related read: Digital Loneliness in 2025


LinkedIn Trauma Dumping: Hustle + Hurt = Hype

Remember when LinkedIn was about jobs and Excel hacks? Now it’s one long trauma dump.

“My startup failed. I had depression. My dog died. But here’s what it taught me about leadership.”

We’ve confused trauma with tenacity, and every low point is now a brand-building opportunity.

Even hiring posts come with a tragic backstory:

“I was rejected 14 times. Slept on a friend’s sofa. Lived on Maggi. Now I’m a 7-figure freelancer.”

It’s not motivation—it’s manipulation with good lighting.

🎯 See this play out in: AI Layoffs and Ghost Jobs of 2025


The Healing Industrial Complex™ Is Thriving

Healing used to be sacred. Now it's a shopping category.

Browse Instagram ads and you’ll find:

  • “Trauma Coaching” from someone who discovered mental health during Mercury Retrograde

  • “Inner Child Healing Candles” (hand-poured, overpriced, underwhelming)

  • “Womb Journaling Retreats” in Manali—where no one writes but everyone reels

Meanwhile, real therapists in India are booked for months and earn less than a weekend Reiki class.

Welcome to the Healing Industrial Complex™, where your anxiety is a product, and your self-worth depends on shipping timelines.

πŸ“Œ Speaking of hustle pressure: Middle-Class Productivity Guilt


Your Trauma Isn’t a Personality, Bro

Let’s be honest: trauma is the new MBTI.

Instead of saying “I’m learning to cope,” we now say:

“I’m a dismissive-avoidant INFJ raised in a chaotic home navigating shadow work.”

Translation: I read 3 Instagram posts and now diagnose myself like I’m Freud.

Trauma has become a social identity.
We introduce ourselves by our scars, not our stories. The messier the backstory, the more "relatable" we become.

But when trauma becomes your brand, healing becomes betrayal.

πŸŒ€ Also see: Post-Truth Era of 2025


Capitalism Is Your Trauma’s Favorite Therapist

Big surprise: the system profiting off your burnout… also sells you the cure.

Apps, journals, mood-tracking subscriptions, vibe crystals, trauma coaches with no qualifications… it’s a buffet of false hope.

India’s digital wellness market crossed ₹2000 Cr in 2024, but according to WHO:

  • Only 0.75 psychiatrists per 100,000 people

  • 60%+ Indians with mental health issues never receive professional help

Why? Because mental health isn’t sexy unless it’s monetized.

You’re not being healed. You’re being harvested.

πŸ’Έ Explore more real-world scamfluence: Therapy Trap – Monetizing Vulnerability


India: Offline Shame Meets Online Fame

We still whisper “therapy” like it’s black magic.

But on the internet? It’s all:

“Hi, I’m a recovering empath with abandonment wounds and a soft corner for Himalayan salt lamps.”

Indian culture still gaslights you into thinking:

  • Crying is weakness

  • Depression is just hunger

  • Anxiety is “too much screen time”

But scroll Instagram and it's all crystal grids, aura healing, and dopamine detox rituals filmed with cinematic drones.

We don’t want to heal. We want to look aesthetically unwell.

Read more: Digital Detox – Escaping or Coping?


Reels, Rants, and the Doomscroll High

Let’s talk algorithm addiction.

Every crying selfie, every sad piano reel, every overshare thread… gives you a hit.

  • Dopamine when the likes pour in

  • Validation in the “sending love πŸ’—” comments

  • Pity clout when strangers repost your breakdown

And then? Crickets. Silence. Ghosting. Because parasocial empathy doesn’t extend offline.

Case in point:

A Delhi creator went viral for “healing from narcissistic abuse.” Turned out—it was a PR stunt. Brand collabs, book deals, podcast invites... all for a made-up trauma arc.

Because in 2025, authenticity is optional. Engagement is king.

πŸ“ On ghosting, false intimacy and fake closeness: Ghosting, Breadcrumbing & The Digital Mess


The Raw Truth: Healing Is Boring

You know why no one’s posting about real healing?

Because it's dull.

  • It’s going to therapy and saying the same thing 12 times

  • It’s journaling when you don’t feel inspired

  • It’s being consistent—not aesthetic

  • It’s boundaries, naps, awkward silence, and logging off when it’s least convenient

No trending sound. No link in bio. No soft lighting.

That’s why influencers fake it. Real healing doesn’t trend.

πŸ’€ More inconvenient truths: Crying, Sex & Emotional Release


What If We Don’t Want to Heal?

Let’s drop the hot take.

What if healing feels like… erasure?

What if your pain gives you meaning? A story? A place in this chaotic, chronically online universe?

What if we’re scared that without our trauma arc, we’re just ordinary people with bad WiFi and mediocre playlists?

Because healing removes the drama. And in 2025, drama is dopamine.

So, maybe, just maybe…
We’re addicted to being broken because healing is bad for engagement.

🧨 See it unravel: Silent Quitting vs. Balance Culture


Final Gut-Punch: Clout Is Not Closure

Healing is not a content plan.

It’s not your latest collab, your sad boomerang, your journal haul.

It’s what happens when no one’s watching.

So ask yourself:

  • If no one clapped for your growth, would you still pursue it?

  • If your healing didn’t go viral, would you still invest in it?

  • If your therapist didn’t have a podcast, would you still trust her?

Because if your pain is real, it deserves more than a Canva template.

πŸ’₯ Mic drop-worthy bonus read: Brain Isn’t WiFi – Stop Acting Like It


TL;DR for the Chronically Online

  • Oversharing ≠ Healing

  • Pain ≠ Personality

  • Capitalism ≠ Cure

  • Clout ≠ Closure

  • Reels ≠ Recovery

  • Healing ≠ Aesthetic


Viral Caption Ideas for Your Next Breakdown

Because I know you're going to post this anyway:

  • “Cried in HD. Healed in private. Flopped both ways.”

  • “Healing is a full-time job. I’m still on probation.”

  • “Inner child needs therapy. Bank account says ‘LOL.’”

  • “Healing arc loading… buffering… crashed.”


So... Are You Healing or Just Hashtagging It?

Drop a comment. Vent. Overshare (ironically, of course).
But maybe, just maybe, also log out and touch some grass.

Healing doesn’t need an audience.
But if you're reading this far? At least you’re trying.

Friday, May 16, 2025

Your Brain Isn’t WiFi. Stop Acting Like It Is.

An infographic visually illustrating the impact of constant digital connectivity on mental well-being, highlighting themes like notification overload, burnout, digital addiction, loneliness, and the challenge of digital detox
Overloaded!!
Tired, foggy, emotionally fried? Same. Here’s why being constantly online is draining your mental health—and how you're tricked into loving it.


1. The Digital Leash: Why You're Always "On"

In 2025, being “offline” doesn’t mean you’re unavailable. It just means you haven’t replied yet—but your last seen betrayed you. If you're an Indian professional, you're likely juggling Google Meet links, HR WhatsApp groups, and that one senior who loves sending long audio messages at 10:48 PM (because text is too mainstream, obviously).

We’ve turned into walking helpdesks. Even bathroom breaks aren’t sacred—someone's always pinging, "quick call?". And don’t forget the "ASAP" messages at 11 PM on Slack or Microsoft Teams. Except in India, where Slack still feels like a NRI cousin’s tool. We live on WhatsApp, Telegram, and Teams. The holy trinity of burnout.

πŸ‘€ Stat check: According to a 2024 LocalCircles survey, 67% of remote Indian employees say work invades personal time, yet feel pressured to comply for fear of being labeled “non-collaborative.”

πŸ”— Digital Loneliness in 2025: The New Isolation Epidemic


2. Notifications Are Just Tiny Panic Attacks

Your phone doesn’t ring anymore. It barks.
WhatsApp trrring, Google Pay ping, Zepto ding, and Instagram boing. Now multiply that by 37 apps, add 4 Telegram groups (all sending the same meme), and top it off with a LinkedIn “congrats on the new role” spam.

Your brain is fried, not from thinking—but from switching between 15 micro-tasks every 10 minutes. It’s digital schizophrenia, disguised as multitasking.

And don’t even talk about “Focus Mode.” That feature is the digital version of locking a door with a Post-it. Useless.

🀯 Real example: You try to focus on a report, but your mom sends a “good morning” forward, your housing society pings about water cuts, and Zomato offers you butter chicken because they felt your sadness.

πŸ“Š A Deloitte India report found employees spend an average of 2.5 hours daily recovering from distractions—but still blame themselves for not being productive.

πŸ”— Micro Breaks: The Hack to Boost Productivity


3. Middle-Class Zombies and the Cult of Constant Hustle

Let’s be honest: India’s middle class isn’t thriving—it’s performing. We're caught in a loop of self-optimization while juggling family expectations, EMIs, and guilt-tripping reels that start with “if you’re not grinding, someone else is.”

Your schedule looks like this:
πŸƒ‍♂️ Wake up at 6AM
πŸ“² Listen to a productivity podcast
πŸ’Ό Open Google Meet for back-to-back calls
πŸ₯— Order "healthy" momos
πŸ‘¨‍πŸ‘§ Help with your child’s homework
πŸ“© Reply to 17 unread messages on Teams
πŸ“± Post “gratitude” story
πŸ’» Finish deck for tomorrow
🧘‍♀️ Watch a reel on mindfulness, forget to breathe

πŸ‘» Relatable? A 2024 Mint article revealed 58% of Indian working professionals work more than 55 hours/week, and 72% feel guilty when they’re not working. Because hustle isn’t a choice—it’s a middle-class survival sport.

πŸ”— Middle-Class Burnout: Escaping the Productivity Guilt Trap


4. You’re Not Lazy—You’re Overcooked

You’ve got 14 tabs open, 3 cups of chai gone cold, and one existential crisis bubbling under your keyboard. Welcome to the burnout Olympics.

And yet, the solution you're offered is either:

  • “Do yoga at sunrise”

  • “Manifest good vibes”

  • Or worse, “Join this productivity bootcamp for just ₹4,999”

No, you’re not lazy. You’re overstimulated, under-rested, and guilt-tripped into fake positivity.

πŸ”Ž Example from the trenches: You take Sunday off and feel guilty for not “learning something new.” You watch a series, feel unproductive. You nap, feel sluggish. You answer emails, feel resentful. No outcome feels “right” unless it’s monetized.

πŸ“‰ A 2023 study by NIMHANS found 43% of urban youth in India feel “mentally exhausted” at least 5 days a week, with emotional burnout disguised as “low motivation” or “mood swings.”

πŸ”— Toxic Positivity Is Hurting Mental Health in 2025


5. How Ads Hijack Your Dopamine—And You Let Them

You weren’t thinking about buying that ₹3,200 LED moon lamp. Then Instagram showed it to you. Twice. While you were in bed. Sad.

Now you own three.

Welcome to neuromarketing, where your feelings are data points, and your insecurities are revenue streams.

🧠 In India, influencer-backed ads are now surgically targeting your mood. You cry? Here's a face mask. You scroll at midnight? Here's melatonin chocolate. You Google “breakup songs”? Spotify sends you a self-love playlist and Swiggy suggests brownies.

πŸ€– Stat check: In 2024, India saw a 63% increase in AI-driven ad engagement tools. Emotional triggers like “FOMO,” “self-care,” and “aspiration” were most effective in driving click-throughs.

πŸ§ͺ Apps like Meesho and Flipkart now A/B test ads based on facial recognition and biometric feedback. You’re not a customer—you’re a dopamine puppet.

πŸ”— Neuromarketing in 2025: How Ads Hijack Your Free Will


6. When Loneliness Gets a WiFi Signal

You’ve got 800 “friends” and 3 people who actually care if you vanish.

We confuse constant communication with actual connection. You send reels all day, but can’t have a two-minute honest call without both parties awkwardly saying, “sooo... what else?”

πŸ’” Real-world moment: You open Instagram feeling lonely. See someone post “healing” content. Feel inspired. Try talking to a friend. Get left on read. Scroll again. Repeat until you forget what you were sad about—or worse, start comparing your sadness to others'.

India’s urban loneliness isn’t about not knowing people. It’s about not knowing who actually listens. And mental health influencers with “open DMs” don’t count.

😐 And yes, we know therapy is important. But not when it becomes a brand aesthetic. “5 Mental Health Habits That Changed My Life” sandwiched between Gymshark haul and Starbucks flatlay.

πŸ”—


7. You Tried to Detox… But Your Phone Was in Your Hand

Let’s not pretend. We’ve all posted “Taking a break. Don’t DM me” and then lurked from a burner account.

The average “digital detox” now involves:

  • Turning off notifications

  • But checking WhatsApp Web “just once”

  • Posting less on Instagram, but watching 90 Reels/day

  • Avoiding Twitter, but reading every quote tweet on your screenshot folder

🎯 India-specific fail: You go on a detox trip to Rishikesh. Tell everyone you’re going offline. Then spend 3 hours posing for “candid” mountain shots, editing them on Lightroom, and scheduling uploads via Creator Studio. But it’s fine. Because “nature heals.”

πŸͺ« Real detox means facing silence, not muting it. And most people aren’t ready to be that bored. Because boredom is where buried emotions live—and your feed was designed to protect you from that horror.

πŸ”— Digital Detox 2025: Is Escaping Reality Just Another Fantasy?


Conclusion: You’re Not WiFi. You’re Human. Try Living Like One.

Your brain isn’t built for 22 open apps, 37 half-done to-do lists, and 0 moments of stillness.

You’re not weak for needing space. You’re not failing for feeling tired. You’re not lazy for logging out.
You’re human. That’s the point.

And if anyone tells you otherwise, send them this post. Or don’t. Maybe just... go offline.


πŸ”— More You Might Like:














Monday, May 12, 2025

Toxic Positivity Is Hurting Mental Health in 2025

Why Is Everyone Smiling While Burned Out?

A woman sitting alone with a forced smile, surrounded by “positive vibes only” posters, looking emotionally drained—representing the pressure of toxic positivity in 2025.
It’s 2025. The climate’s frying, half the job market is a scam, AI is busy applying for your job, and your therapist just raised their rates again—but sure, tell me more about “choosing joy.” Somewhere between burnout, endless productivity hacks, and that one chirpy coworker who signs every Slack message with ✨ “Let’s stay positive!” ✨ — we lost the plot.

We’re not okay. Most of us are barely hanging on with iced coffee and memes. We’re anxious, overstimulated, and emotionally maxed out. But instead of being honest about it, we’re told to slap on a smile, breathe deeply, and “trust the process.” Spoiler alert: the process sucks.

This isn't emotional growth—it's emotional denial wrapped in a pastel gradient. And it's not just annoying. It's dangerous. Because what’s happening now is deeper than fake smiles and self-help spam. Toxic positivity is hurting mental health in 2025 by turning pain into performance, convincing us that any expression of discomfort makes us “negative,” “ungrateful,” or just not spiritually evolved enough.

The worst part? We’ve started believing it. We've started gaslighting ourselves—forcing a silver lining onto every crack in our lives until we forget it’s okay to simply fall apart sometimes.

Thursday, May 8, 2025

Crying During Sex: Shame, Release, or Truth?

So… Crying During Sex? Yeah, It’s a Thing

person sitting alone against a wall, partially visible, with their face reflecting vulnerability and emotional complexity after intimacy. The scene conveys a sense of emotional release and quiet contemplation, symbolizing the mix of feelings that come post-intimacy.
Embracing vulnerability after intimacy
Let’s address the slippery, mascara-streaked elephant in the room: crying during sex. It’s confusing. It’s messy. It’s emotional whiplash. And no, this isn’t just the plot of some sad indie film—people actually cry during or after sex. Like, a lot more than anyone’s admitting.

One minute it’s euphoria, next it’s Niagara Falls. No warning. No music change. Just... tears. Quiet, sudden, borderline poetic—and deeply annoying if you had dinner reservations after.

Whether it’s a one-night stand gone emotionally sideways or a full-blown intimacy ambush, sex can stir a cocktail of feelings that your brain didn’t even know was on the menu. And the result? Ugly crying. Or soft sobbing. Or that weird silent tremble you pretend is “just the fan being too cold.”

Let’s not beat around the bush: it’s time to face the facts. Crying during sex isn’t just a “crybaby” issue. It’s a real thing. But why? Why do people—especially those with a little too much pride—cry during what should be peak pleasure? It’s about much more than what’s happening in the moment. Sometimes, the cause goes deeper. It’s about everything from vulnerability and emotional release to a cocktail of hormones and societal pressures.

Touch Starvation: India’s Silent Epidemic

Touch Starvation Remember Touch? Yeah, Neither Do We. Raise your hand if your last genuine hug wasn’t a trauma response from your mom after ...