By Roli S
In today’s India, where smartphones have become as common as chai and Wi-Fi as indispensable as electricity, it is hard to ignore the deep impact of social media on our daily lives. From WhatsApp messages, Instagram reels to YouTube vlogs, our screens are flooded with people dancing, traveling, painting, cooking or simply clicking pictures of friends and families— not just for personal joy but for views, likes, and followers. Activities that were once meant to be intimate, soulful, and self-fulfilling are now carefully curated and packaged for public consumption.
I think that social media has contaminated the idea of having simple fun — This is not only true but deeply concerning. The very essence of a hobby or a joyful action, which is to relax, refresh, and reconnect with one’s own self, has been overshadowed by the chase for validation, approval, popularity and even money. This external validation and even monetisation of leisure is leaving us anxious, competitive, and ironically, less joyful.
Let’s take a closer look at why this shift has happened, what it means for us, and most importantly, how we can reclaim simplicity and contentment in our lives.
Traditionally, hobbies were private escapes. A photographer would click snaps for personal albums. A child would sketch in his notebook and feel happy showing it to his parents or teachers, a grandmother would hum bhajans while cooking just out of devotion and pleasure, or a youngster would trek in the Himalayas simply to feel the wind and silence. None of this required validation.
But today, thanks to platforms like WhatsApp, Instagram, YouTube, and Facebook, every action seems incomplete unless shared with a group or wider audience. A trekker now spends as much time posing for the perfect selfie as enjoying nature’s view in the mountains. A party goer will no longer click a few pictures for personal memory and consumption. A singer worries less about singing in tune for herself and more about whether her reel will go viral. Children as young as five- or six-year-olds boast about having a million followers! A painter feels her work is incomplete until it is posted and “appreciated” by strangers and friends alike on Instagram.
This shift from self-satisfaction to oversharing and external validation is the root of the problem. Social media encourages us to measure joy in numbers — likes, comments, shares, followers, and eventually, money. Pleasure is no longer about how deeply we enjoy an activity personally, but about how many others see it, witness it and be a part of the actions. Even when we have fun with friends in a private get-together, we wish to share same pictures repeatedly in groups with the intention of gaining a wider audience.
India has witnessed an explosion of “content creators”. While it is commendable that many young people are earning livelihoods from their creativity, it has also normalised the idea that every passion must be monetised.
If you cook well, why not start a food channel?
If you write poems, why not make put it on YouTube?
If you dance, why not become a “creator”?
Soon, hobbies stop being hobbies and turn into side-hustles. The mindset changes from “I draw because I love it” to “I draw because it may get me recognition or even money.” And once money or fame enters the equation, the natural, playful joy of the activity begins to diminish.
In Indian culture, leisure and creativity have always had sacred value. Kabir’s dohas, Rabindranath Tagore’s songs, or the folk paintings of Madhubani and Warli were not born out of a desire to “trend”. They came from the simple human urge to express and to celebrate life privately. When we reduce this urge into a business strategy or attention seeking activity, we risk losing the very soul of our art.
Research across the world shows that constant exposure to social media creates a culture of comparison. People end up feeling inadequate when their pictures, art, or performances or even appearances don’t match up or get as much attention as others. Instead of reducing stress, hobbies and fun activity now increases it.
In India, where young people are already under pressure from academic competition, job insecurity, and family expectations, the added burden of “performing hobbies” for an audience that otherwise were meant to relax and have fun, can be overwhelming. Instead of being sources of peace, hobbies and fun activities have turned into another form of rat race.
This explains why so many people feel burnt out despite being surrounded by endless entertainment.
If we agree that hobbies should not be enslaved by popularity, then the question arises: how do we bring back simplicity, contentment, and fun into our lives? Here are some practical steps tailored for today’s India:
Not everything needs to be shared. Deliberately keep some activities offline. Write a diary, sing for your family, paint a picture, click a picture and keep it on your bedroom wall or private album. Reclaim the sacredness of doing something just for yourself.
Just as many Indians practice fasting for health or spirituality, we can practice social media fasting. Dedicate one day a week to being offline. Use that time to read, walk, cook, or just talk to people around you. Over time, you will rediscover the joy of unrecorded moments.
Instead of chasing anonymous followers or digital friends, seek real community. Join a local dance group, book club, or trekking club. The joy of sharing experiences face-to-face is deeper and longer lasting than the thrill of sharing online photos, likes and comments.
We must collectively change how we define success. In our schools, families, and offices, let us celebrate creativity for its own sake. Parents can encourage children to draw or click pictures without worrying about sharing or competitions. Adults can remind each other that singing badly at an office party is still fun if it makes people laugh.
If you must share your hobby online, do it mindfully. Post not to impress but to inspire. Share because it gives you joy, not because you expect rewards or comments in return. This small shift in attitude can keep the soul of your passion intact.
India has a rich tradition of folk art, music, and storytelling. Let us revive these practices in our daily lives — not as performances for the internet, but as shared cultural rituals. Imagine families singing folk songs together, or mohalla groups organising poetry evenings, just for the love of it.
At its heart, the issue is not with social media itself but with how we use it. Tools are neutral; it is our approach that makes them either sources of enrichment or of anxiety. In India, where values of simplicity, balance, and inner contentment are deeply rooted in our spiritual and cultural heritage, we have a unique opportunity to resist the global tide of hyper-commercialisation and addiction to social media. Sadly, we have been sucked into the social media trap in a big way.
The Bhagavad Gita reminds us: “Yogasthah kuru karmani” — be steadfast in yoga and then act. Applied to hobbies, it means, stay rooted in joy, peace, and self-connection, then engage in your passions. Do not be attached to outcomes, whether likes or money.
Yes, social media has contaminated the idea of having simple fun. It has turned hobbies and simple private fun times into performances, passions into professions, and joy into a commodity. But all is not lost. By practicing restraint, rediscovering offline pleasures, valuing community over audience, and reviving cultural traditions by remaining away from social media, we can reclaim the essence of hobbies and simple fun!
Simple fun is not extinct; it is only hidden under the noise of algorithms and notifications. The choice lies with us — whether to keep chasing validation or to return to the childlike joy of painting without purpose, singing without perfection or appreciation, and playing without applause.
For a country like India, with its vast heritage of inner contentment and creative abundance, the path forward is clear: let us once again find happiness in simplicity, not in social media metrics and overindulgence in digital networks generated by artificial intelligence. Because I believe that we are loved way more by some of the people who have not contacted us in the last twelve or so months or even years than we are loved by some of those who contact us every twelve minutes or hours! The value lies in simple human connections, not complicated machine algorithms.
(Roli S is an Educator and Author based in Thane.)
