Caught in a Whirlpool of constant noise and outrage, Ankit was no longer the cheerful, easy-going young man he once was. Once well-liked by his friends and family, something inside him had shifted. It started subtly—he began spending hours glued to his phone, scrolling through aggressive news debates, watching videos filled with anger, and engaging in endless online arguments.
At first, he thought he was just staying informed. He even prided himself on knowing the “truth” and being more “aware” than others. But soon, every conversation with him turned into a battle. He snapped at his parents over minor disagreements, fought with friends over social media posts, and even started seeing negativity in the simplest of things. His sense of humor vanished, replaced by sarcasm and cynicism. His mind was no longer his own; it was consumed by anger and frustration.
One evening, his mother called him for dinner. “Ankit, come eat before the food gets cold.”
Irritated by the interruption, he shouted back, “Can’t you see I’m busy?” His voice echoed through the house, sharper than he intended. It wasn’t the first time he had responded harshly, but something about this moment struck a nerve.
His mother sighed and walked away, hurt. His father, who had been silently observing for weeks, finally spoke. “You’ve changed, beta. You were never this angry.”
Ankit scoffed. “I’m just aware of how unfair the world is. Someone has to care.”
But deep down, an uneasiness settled in his chest. The more he consumed negative content, the more reactive he became. His patience wore thin, his laughter faded, and stress tightened its grip around him. It was as if he was caught in a whirlpool of constant outrage, pulled deeper every time he scrolled or argued. Even small inconveniences made his blood boil. He slammed doors, muttered under his breath, and even threw his phone in frustration once, shattering the screen.
He barely noticed how distant he had become until it cost him something real.
The breaking point came when he lashed out at his best friend, Rohan, over a trivial political disagreement. “You’re blind if you don’t see it my way!” Ankit had yelled, veins bulging in his neck.
Rohan’s expression shifted from anger to sadness. “Ankit, we used to have fun. Now, all you do is argue. You used to be the guy who made everyone laugh. Do you even enjoy life anymore?”
That night, Ankit lay awake, Rohan’s words echoing in his mind. When was the last time he had felt genuinely happy? When was the last time he had laughed without sarcasm? He had mistaken constant outrage for awareness, but in reality, he had lost control over his emotions. He was exhausted, and his relationships were crumbling before his eyes.
He realized he was not only caught in a whirlpool of anger but also drifting away from everything and everyone he loved.
Determined to change, he decided to take a break from consuming toxic content. He deleted apps that fed his anger, stopped engaging in pointless debates, and chose uplifting books and documentaries instead. The first few days were difficult—his fingers itched to scroll, to argue—but he forced himself to step away. He started spending more time outdoors, reconnecting with old hobbies like playing cricket in the park, sketching in his notebook, and listening to music that once brought him peace. Slowly, his irritability faded, and his mind became lighter.
He came to understand how easily one can get caught in a whirlpool of negativity, and how much effort it takes to swim back to the surface.
One evening, he sat with his parents at dinner, truly present after a long time. The warmth of the food, the chatter of his family—it felt like home again. His mother smiled, eyes glistening with relief. “It’s good to have you back.”
Ankit smiled back, realizing that he had regained something far more valuable than any argument—his peace.