Digital Detox: Life Without Internet -Jarif Hasin

In an age where the internet has become as indispensable as air, its sudden disappearance felt like a jolt to the system. Just a month ago, life without online connectivity seemed unimaginable—a scenario fit only for dystopian fiction. But in the third week of July, that nightmare became a reality when our country’s internet service came to an abrupt halt, a direct consequence of the quota reform movement.

During those internet-less days, our once familiar digital landscape evaporated. Facebook, Twitter, Instagram—all fell silent. The omnipresent glow of smartphone screens dimmed, leaving a void that reverberated through generations. For the youth, who had never known a world without the internet, school activities came to a sudden stop, leaving them adrift in an ocean of time. It wasn’t just the students who felt the impact—internet addiction had seeped into every corner of society, affecting people of all ages and professions.

Parents found themselves at a loss, with their children refusing to eat or sleep without the comfort of their mobile devices. These gadgets had become an extension of their existence, dictating every move. Cooking, dressing, family gatherings—all were disrupted by the absence of mobile internet. The warmth of human interaction faded, replaced by the cold, eerie quiet of screenless days. Playgrounds, once alive with laughter, now stood eerily deserted. The simple joys of sharing stories, laughing together, and seeing each other’s faces were among the many casualties of the digital blackout.

As the days dragged on, the nation grappled with withdrawal symptoms. The addiction to virtual connections had severed real-world ties. Parents longed for the closeness they once had with their children—the bedtime stories, the whispered secrets, the comforting presence. Books gathered dust, toys lay forgotten, and pockets remained untouched, with no more impulse purchases driven by the allure of online shopping.

In this unplugged reality, life has slowed to a crawl. The absence of notifications allowed for moments of introspection, but it also exposed the cracks in our social fabric. We realised that while the internet is a powerful tool, it has subtly eroded our humanity—the simple pleasures of face-to-face conversations, the touch of a loved one’s hand, the aroma of a home-cooked meal.

As the internet blackout persisted, people began to ask themselves unsettling questions: What happens when the digital umbilical cord is severed? Can we reclaim the connections we’ve lost? Will we emerge from this hiatus with a newfound appreciation for the analogue world?

The recent quota reform movement in Bangladesh marked a watershed moment in the country’s history, resulting in the deaths of over four hundred people, including students and law enforcement officials. The existing quota policy had allocated only 44 percent of government recruitment based on merit, with the remaining 56 percent reserved for freedom fighters and their descendants, district quotas, women, and underprivileged communities. Students, fed up with this inequitable system, demanded reform. What began as peaceful protests quickly escalated into nationwide chaos. On July 7, university students initiated a “Bangla Blockade,” obstructing roads and railways in major cities. As the movement grew, so did the violence, culminating in significant clashes with law enforcement. On Thursday, July 18, at around 9 p.m., the entire country was plunged into an internet blackout. All mobile and broadband services were suspended, rendering social media inaccessible. The blackout was swiftly followed by a nationwide curfew.

For Millennials, who remember a time before the internet, the blackout was a temporary inconvenience. But for Gen Z and those younger, it was an unprecedented disruption. With the internet down, daily life has ground to a halt, impacting every sector reliant on digital infrastructure. The digital transformation of utilities, tourism, online education, transportation, freelancing, business, and banking came to a standstill. People couldn’t recharge their prepaid electricity and cooking gas meters or send money via mobile channels. As a result, households across the country faced power shortages, prompting desperate crowds to gather at power stations to recharge their meters. Children’s online learning sessions were cut off, and the entertainment they found on YouTube vanished. Everyday tasks—signing copyright forms, proofreading journal papers, meeting application deadlines, attending online meetings—all were derailed.

Even the most basic human interactions were affected. Parents found it difficult to communicate with their children, even when they were in the same room. It wasn’t unusual for people to ignore each other, absorbed as they were by their screens. In social settings, the urge to snap a photo and post it on Facebook often overshadows the moment itself. The internet had turned lives into a spectacle, with everyone eager to display their curated personas online. The internet blackout left these people gasping for air. For those who spent every waking moment scrolling through social media, the sudden darkness was suffocating. Time seemed to stretch endlessly, and restlessness set in. The country’s situation was anything but normal. Everyone repeatedly checked their phones, hoping for the internet to return. When they finally realised it wasn’t coming back anytime soon, a wave of disappointment washed over them. Some tried to pass the time by playing games, but with the curfew in place, most were confined to their homes. A week without the internet felt like an eternity.

But not everyone was lost. For a certain class of people, the absence of the internet provided a rare opportunity for reflection. Those who had always enjoyed reading found solace in their books. Without the constant distractions of Facebook, Messenger, and Instagram, they could immerse themselves in their reading. Their attention sharpened, their hearts quieted, and their imaginations soared. They woke with the sun, no longer slaves to the blue light that kept them awake into the early hours.
Books, ever-faithful companions, proved their worth once again. Those who cherished reading had their favourite volumes ready, making the most of this digital hiatus. With offices and courts closed for a few days, the time was ripe for deep reading. For the reader, there was no such thing as wasted time. Let the internet return, but let it also teach us to stay away from its darker corners. Let us return to the era of books, where beautiful relationships, moments, and mornings were cherished.

In conclusion, the quota reform movement not only challenged the status quo but also forced us to confront our dependence on the digital realm. In this unexpected pause, we rediscovered the value of genuine human interactions and the richness of life beyond screens. We found a path back to our roots—back to the simple joys of reading books, nurturing relationships, and living fully in the present. The changes we experienced were profound, reminding us that sometimes a drastic shift is needed to truly appreciate what we’ve been missing.