Sandeep was always an average middle class child, growing up in a modest household with his brother. His parents ran a small hotel, working relentlessly to raise both their sons with dignity and values. From early on, Sandeep had a spark of fascination for technology, its mechanics, its wonders, its reach. But in school, he was an average student. Not someone who topped charts, but someone who quietly observed the world through curious eyes.
During his early college days, Sandeep would often help at the family restaurant, handling cash, cooking, or even washing dishes. Life was simple and grounded. But toward the end of college, a small shift happened, an uncle gifted him his first mobile phone. That device changed everything.
It wasn’t just a gadget. It was an entire world in his pocket. Sandeep quickly became skilled at using the smartphone, he explored its functions thoroughly, learned to take great photos, edit them, create short videos, reels, and more. He soon mastered many editing and designing tools. He became the unofficial tech whiz among his friends, admired not just for his phone, but for what he could do with it.
His interest in visual aesthetics and creative apps naturally led him toward computer design. What started as a hobby became an obsession. Sandeep began spending more time online than offline. He grew distant from real conversations and people, immersing himself completely in the virtual world of design, trends, tools, and screens. Eventually, he landed a job as an advertising designer. But even there, he struggled to connect. He had no close friends at work, no real emotional anchors.
What struck me later was how deeply hollow he had become. For all the tools he had mastered, Sandeep had lost the tools of the heart, empathy, boundaries, and emotional stability. He had no real friends, but he would fall too fast for anyone who offered a kind word. He didn’t know when to speak, or when to simply be still. His dependency on screens and constant validation had slowly drained him of essence. A designer on paper, yet from the inside, a man with no design, no colour.
I came to know about Sandeep through one of my relatives, a young girl studying in Mumbai. She met him at a wedding function of a mutual friend, the bride, who introduced them. Sandeep was drawn to her friendliness and warmth. She later connected him to me, thinking it might help him get some freelance work. It did, for a while. But his soft corner for her grew quickly, and as I began to meet more youngsters like him for my writing work, I started noticing a pattern, of hollowness, digital dependency, and emotional instability.
Over time, I realized Sandeep was not seeking love, he was seeking meaning, direction, maybe even attention. His way of interacting was mechanical, surface-level. I remember a meeting I had with him and another girl for a freelance project. Despite already working on my designs, Sandeep had absolutely nothing to talk about. Imagine, a young man in his twenties, in a creative field, sitting with someone offering him work, and yet, not a single meaningful question or comment.
His energy was absent. His eyes empty. A lifeless body housing downloaded talent. He asked me shallow, casual questions, and within 10 minutes, I was done. There was no substance. He wasn’t just quiet, he was hollow.
It made me reflect : What has technology done to this generation?
Smartphones and computers were supposed to connect us, uplift us, make us smarter. But for Sandeep, and many like him, it seems to have stripped away the very soul. The overuse of technology from a young age created a vacuum. He eventually stopped staying in touch with me, and I heard from the girl I had hired via him that Sandeep was now jobless, spending day and night on his computer for freelance gigs, with no real rhythm to life.
The most disturbing part? I heard from my staff that Sandeep cannot even handle a power cut. A brief disconnection from Wi-Fi sends him into a state of panic. He has no backup for boredom. No ability to be still, to sit with silence. When he goes to places like the mountains where there’s no signal, he has panic attacks.
He’s not alone. I’ve seen many such young people, living examples of a decay caused by unmoderated tech use. Kids who cannot make eye contact, who can’t have long conversations, who feel anxious without a screen in hand. Some get addicted to gaming, others to editing apps, filters, or validation loops on social media. They live online but are absent in real life.
Technology was meant to empower us. But without boundaries, without balance, it is quietly turning bright, curious kids into disconnected, directionless adults.
Perfect story and well described. What is future of such techies and technology ? Sir also tell how to make distance from this wave or tsunami of gadgets?
Reading the story of Sandeep, I could see a reflection of my son who due to the gadgets is now cut off from the physical world and rarely has physical meetings with friends. Scary…
Good