We view content, but we’ve stopped seeing each other.

We’re still connected, just not in the ways that count.

Hi Folks

We’re living in the most convenient time to stay connected, yet somehow we are the most emotionally detached.

Everything is optimised: messages are instant, responses are quick, and presence is ambient. You know who went to Bali, who got married, who’s had a baby. You see their faces, read their captions, and react to their stories. It feels like you’re still in each other’s lives.

But proximity isn’t the same as presence.

Somewhere along the way, we’ve stopped showing up. Not dramatically. Not with anger or finality. But quietly, in the form of plans that never materialise, calls that are always “next week,” texts that stay in our heads instead of being sent.

And most of the time, we don’t even notice it happening.

I’ve seen this slow drift in my own life. Friendships I thought were forever, now reduced to birthday messages and algorithmic glimpses. People I once spoke to daily now feel like distant contacts I still have fondness for, but no real closeness with.

It’s not because we stopped caring. It’s just that we stopped trying.

The effort that friendships require- unglamorous, time-consuming, emotionally vulnerable effort doesn’t fit into our neatly optimised lives.

We have gotten efficient at many things. But maybe we’ve forgotten how to reach out without reason. How to ask, “How are you, really?” and wait for an answer that isn’t just “good.”

I miss that.

I miss the middle layer of people in my life, not just best friends or family, but the ones who filled the in-between spaces. The colony uncle, who asked about school. The colleague who sent memes during a boring meeting. The househelp who noticed when you looked tired. That whole layer used to make life feel warmer, fuller.

And now, it’s mostly gone.

Work used to be one of the few places where friendships were allowed to grow without needing a plan. At my previous two companies, I found people I still hold close. We had lives between meetings. But not every workplace is like that. Now I work remotely and we work well together, but we don’t really know each other. It’s all efficient, all remote.

I’ve suggested doing an offsite. Just a day or two where we could meet face-to-face, become more than just squares on Zoom. No one seems keen. People prefer the distance. “It works,” they say.

And maybe it does. But at what cost?

I think about this a lot. About how easily people become replaceable, not just in companies, but in our lives.

How we’ve trained ourselves to prioritise energy-saving and convenience, even when it comes to relationships.

A quick reaction over a call. A like instead of love.

And still, I try. Sometimes in small ways. I check in on my old househelp from Mumbai. She went through cancer a while ago. I wasn’t even in the same city anymore, but I sent her some money when I heard. I talk to people I bump when I take my building lift or just say goodnight to the watchman when I am coming back home.

These gestures won’t go viral. They won’t earn me any badges. But they make me feel like I’m still human, not just a node in someone’s feed.

And maybe that’s why, this year, I threw myself a birthday party.

It wasn’t fancy. Twenty-something people, board games, cold pizza, BYOB and a playlist that tried its best.

The kind of plan that sounds fun when you first think of it, and then quickly becomes a spreadsheet of things to buy, people to remind, food to order, and chairs to borrow. I literally had to create this Google form, check it here.

It was a lot of work and logistics.

I could’ve easily avoided it. I could’ve booked a dinner for four somewhere and called it a day. But I didn’t want to.

I wanted the noise. The mess. The shared meals and lame jokes. The moment when someone shows up at your door, arms full, smiling. I wanted to remind myself and the people I care about that effort still matters.

That showing up, even now, especially now, is still worth it.

Some people are not in this picture because they are either still drinking or throwing up or lost

I am so glad I did this. It reminded me the value of in person connections that hold in my life. And reinforced my belief that digital relationship can never replace real human presence.

If you feel the same way then do drop a no-agenda text to an old friend and just check on them.

Because someone out there thinks you’ve forgotten them. Prove them wrong.

Until next time,
Pawan 😇