As life gradually shifts from real to online, digital dependence in Kashmir reshapes personal interactions as individuals choose to document life rather than live it. Personal accounts and expert observations reveal a tension between online expression and real-world engagement, exposing both the promise and perils of social media, reports Babra Wani

Every morning, 26-year-old Taiba begins her day by checking Snapchat and taking a selfie. Finding the perfect shot often means scrolling through an array of filters, sometimes for over an hour. On most days, she succeeds. But on others, dissatisfaction lingers.
“I have been using Snapchat for over six years now. It has become second nature to document every small detail of my life and share it with my friends,” she said. “At this point, it is not just a habit; it is my routine, my way of living.”
From food to fashion, outings to quiet moments, Taiba shares everything. “It is liberating—the freedom to express myself through snaps. But it is addictive, too. Everywhere I go, I feel the urge to capture something—my coffee, a sunset, a fleeting thought. It is as if, unless I share it, it never really happened.”
Her friends, however, see it differently. “Wherever we go, her phone is always out. Sometimes I wonder—are we living these moments or just documenting them? Have we traded real joy for reactions, memories for streaks?” said one of her friends. “Snapchat has become her world. She captures life, but it feels like life only exists when she does.”
Taiba’s experience highlights a growing dilemma—when the impulse to record overtakes the experience of living. While she finds connection and expression in constant sharing, her friends see an obsession that disconnects her from reality. This reliance on digital validation is not unique; social media platforms continue to blur the line between personal expression and compulsive over-sharing.
A Decade on Facebook
Sahreen was 17 when she first created a Facebook profile, encouraged by her classmates. What began as a curiosity soon became an addiction, evolving into an obsession. She posted incessantly, updating her online world on every aspect of her life.
“It has been more than a decade now. Back then, I was a teenager; today, I am married with a child. And yet, my enthusiasm for Facebook remains the same,” she admitted. “Social networking, as the name suggests, is about sharing your life. And, Alhamdulillah, I have never had any negative experiences. The best thing that happened to me through Facebook—I met my husband there. It started eight years ago with a comment on my post about a cricket match between Australia and Pakistan.”
She acknowledges her deep attachment to the platform. “People often warn against social media, saying it is a waste of time, even a sin. I have heard it all. But I never let that stop me. I met the love of my life online. I built a life, a family, and a community of friends. These friendships, formed on Facebook, have stood by me through every high and low.”
Sahreen remains unwavering in her belief that social media has enriched her life. “For me, it has been a source of positivity. I believe that because I approached it with a positive mindset, I received only good things in return.”
The digital world is a paradox. For some, it is a platform for creativity, opportunity, and meaningful relationships. For others, it becomes a cycle of dependency, comparison, and anxiety. While Sahreen’s story underscores the empowering aspects of social media, others, like Rukhsaar’s, serve as cautionary tales—reminders of how unchecked online habits can consume a life.

A Year of Ruin
For 27-year-old Rukhsaar, the years 2015 and 2016 remain the darkest chapters of her life. She avoids recalling them, knowing they brought irreversible change, and not for the better.
At 18, she entered the world of social media, setting up profiles on Facebook and Instagram. Naïve and impressionable, she believed the online world was as real as the one she inhabited. Her Facebook account boasted more than 3,000 friends, none of whom she had ever met. She spent hours searching for the perfect display picture, striving for an image that would bring her the most likes and comments.
“When I saw a thousand likes on my pictures, I felt elated. I would proudly tell my friends about the number of people following me. I even judged my friends by their Facebook friend lists, which distanced me from some of them,” she said, as a tear slid down her cheek. “Back then, it seemed like everything. Strangers like my pictures, and comment on them. I was unaware of the danger looming over me.”
In June 2015, a friend request appeared from a stranger who shared her interest in motorcycles. Without hesitation, she accepted.
“We started chatting. I was 18; he was 25. The age gap never seemed significant. We became close quickly. He shared everything about his life. He was an engineering student, and I was in eleventh grade,” she recalled. “At first, everything felt perfect. His attention, the late-night messages, the way he made me feel special.”
Affection to Control
The dynamic soon changed. He began questioning her friendships, demanding constant updates, and making her feel guilty over trivial matters. Then came the threats.
“One day, out of nowhere, he said he loved me and wanted a relationship,” she recalled, her voice breaking. “By then, I had grown attached to him. I felt elated and agreed. What started as something romantic soon turned suffocating. There was constant sexting, and he began demanding pictures.”
When she refused, he withdrew. “He would hurl abuses at me, insult my family. If I refused to meet him, he would threaten to block me. I lied to my parents just to see him. He slapped me, pulled my hair, twisted my arm. I do not remember the physical pain, but the scars he left on my mind will never fade.”
When she tried to leave, he retaliated by leaking their private conversations and spreading lies about her. The trust, the friendship—all of it had been a trap. By the time she realised, it was too late.

“I remember refusing to meet him once because my father was unwell. He sent my pictures to my father and leaked my number. That night, I received nearly 500 calls and messages from strangers. That was when I knew I had to break free.”
In April 2016, after enduring the abuse for over a year, she ended the relationship. She changed her number, deleted her social media accounts, and tried to disappear. But he refused to let go. He circulated edited pictures, spread further rumours, and created fake profiles impersonating her. Her world shrank. Trust evaporated. Silence replaced laughter.
“One day, a friend showed me his post where he had written that he would destroy me. His friends encouraged him in the comments. He uploaded my pictures and showed up outside my college. He did everything possible to ruin me.”
Eventually, it ended. After more than two years of torment, her father filed a case against him. The police intervened. Only then did she find relief.
“Since then, I have never used social media. I only use WhatsApp because I can control my interactions. I suffered from depression and had suicidal thoughts. But, Alhamdulillah, it is all behind me now,” said Rukhsaar, who is set to marry in June.
A Different Trap
While Rukhsaar’s ordeal illustrates the darker side of the online world, Jahangir’s story highlights another reality.
A 20-year-old from north Kashmir, he joined Instagram two years ago. What started as casual scrolling soon turned into an addiction.
“Whenever I opened Instagram, there were reels, videos, posts. I told myself I would scroll for an hour, but it stretched to three. My academics suffered. I started missing assignments. My grades dropped,” he said.
A distinction holder throughout school, Jahangir failed a semester examination last year. “It was humiliating. Everyone blamed my social media addiction. I had nearly ruined my career. I posted about it online.”
The post went viral. His inbox flooded with messages from people who had experienced the same struggle. “That was when I realised I was drowning in this digital diarrhoea. Not just scrolling, but posting every detail of my life. Seeking validation. Enjoying the attention.”
Though not a formal term, ‘digital diarrhoea’ refers to excessive, unregulated online activity—over-sharing, compulsive posting, and filling digital spaces with thoughts and updates without restraint. It is a loss of control, much like the condition it is named after.
Oversharing Costs
Sameer, a resident of Srinagar, shared a similar struggle.
“I had an opinion on everything and felt the need to share it. I did not realise I was a nobody,” Sameer said. “Even if I had an opinion, it did not always need to be posted online. I posted about my personal life, my achievements, my struggles. If something bothered me, I turned to social media instead of addressing it in real life.”
People warned him. He dismissed them. “Then reality hit me. My father passed away. I had spent so much time online that I had neglected him. I looked at my phone, then at his lifeless body, and I knew I had lost something irreplaceable.”
Now, he urges young Kashmiris to step back before it is too late. “Social media starts as entertainment but slowly takes control. It blurs reality, damages relationships, and drains mental health. It consumes time meant for studies, personal growth, and real connections. Before you realise it, it dictates your emotions, decisions, and self-worth. I hope others do not make the mistake I did.”
The Psychological Perspective
Dr Mustaq A Margoob, a leading psychiatrist, has warned of a growing digital addiction crisis among children in Kashmir, describing it as a “pandemic” that is already reshaping the region’s mental health landscape.
“The surging waters of the digital river have already begun submerging our society,” he cautioned, warning that failure to act swiftly would allow the crisis to spiral further. He called for an urgent and coordinated response from families, communities, and the state.
Addressing a gathering on digital addiction, Dr Margoob highlighted the neurological effects of excessive screen use. He stated that the brain requires between two to four hours of screen-free time to regain normal activity. He also warned that using screens within two hours of bedtime disrupts natural sleep cycles, leading to fatigue, loss of concentration, and a rise in anxiety and depression. While acknowledging a handful of digital success stories, he stressed that the dominant trend reflected a decline in emotional intelligence, with children becoming increasingly self-absorbed and detached from real-world social interactions.
Wasim Kakroo, Consultant Clinical Psychologist (RCI) at the Centre for Mental Health Services, explained the psychological motivations behind social media engagement. People, he said, often post online to satisfy a need for connection, validation, and self-expression. “Sharing experiences and thoughts fosters a sense of belonging and strengthens social ties,” he observed. However, he noted that social media’s structure, designed around variable rewards, instant gratification, and social comparison, can make it highly addictive. “The continuous stream of new content and the ability to engage instantly create a dopamine-driven feedback loop, making disconnection difficult,” he added.
Kakroo pointed out that social media presents an idealised version of reality, which can be more appealing than real life. “This discrepancy often leads individuals to favour the curated, visually enhanced world of social media over their daily experiences, reinforcing addictive behaviours,” he said. He also noted that online platforms provide a refuge for introverts, allowing them to engage at their own pace without the pressures of direct social interaction. The asynchronous nature of digital communication, he said, grants introverts greater control over their interactions, reducing social anxiety and making engagement easier. In contrast, offline communication demands immediate responses and physical presence, which can be more challenging for them.
The compulsion to express an opinion on every online issue, Kakroo warned, has its consequences. “It can lead to cognitive overload and stress as individuals feel the need to constantly engage and defend their views,” he explained. This often results in heightened polarisation and conflict, particularly on contentious topics.
Besides, Kakroo noted that frequent online debates expose individuals to criticism, trolling, and cyber-bullying, which can harm mental well-being. “The pressure to voice an opinion on every matter also fosters superficial understanding and reinforces echo chambers, where people are only exposed to views that confirm their own Beliefs.”
Sharing personal information online, he cautioned, carries significant risks. “Once posted, personal data can be accessed or misused, increasing the threat of identity theft and cyber-stalking,” he said. Psychologically, over-sharing can create a sense of vulnerability and lead to regret. “There is also the danger of negative social comparison when posts attract judgment or criticism,” he noted. The constant cycle of posting and receiving feedback, he warned, can fuel anxiety, particularly when individuals become preoccupied with how they are perceived online.
Posting pictures, he explained, often serves as a form of validation-seeking. “Social media platforms function as spaces where people seek approval through likes, comments, and shares,” he said. This instant feedback can temporarily boost self-esteem and reinforce a sense of social belonging, but it also fosters a compulsion to share more content, as engagement becomes tied to self-worth.
Kakroo emphasised that online behaviour should be guided by principles of respect, authenticity, and mindfulness. “Individuals should engage in positive and constructive communication, avoid harmful content, and remain aware of the potential consequences of their online actions,” he advised. Stressing the need for digital literacy, he urged people to verify information before sharing it and to understand the implications of privacy settings. “Maintaining a balance between online and offline life is essential to prevent social media from becoming a source of stress or addiction,” he said. He advocated for regular digital detoxes to break the dependency on the dopamine-driven cycle of online engagement.
(Names have been changed to protect identities.)















