Where Were You?

I'd been ordering from Swiggy every day for 3 years. When the app stopped working, I walked into my kitchen like a tourist. Found spices I didn't know I owned. Accidentally made dal. It was edible. I cried. Not because it was bad — because I realized I'd been paying ₹200 delivery fees for something I could make in 20 minutes. Airtel took my internet but gave me self-awareness.

My neighbor has a different network. I've been making fun of his speeds for 4 years. When Airtel went down, I stood outside his door for 11 minutes trying to think of a dignified way to ask for hotspot. I finally knocked. He opened the door, already grinning. 'Airtel down?' he said. I've never felt smaller. He gave me the hotspot. Password was 'AirtelSucks2026'. I used it. I have no pride left.

I'm in 37 WhatsApp groups. Family, college, office, colony, yoga class, dog walking club. When Airtel went down, silence. Beautiful, golden silence. No forwards about turmeric curing cancer. No 'Good Morning' images of sunflowers with Photoshopped sparkles. For 22 hours, I experienced inner peace. Then the signal came back and 847 unread messages hit at once. I nearly switched it off again.

I'm a developer. When the internet died, my team Slack went silent. My Jira tickets became unreachable. For the first time in 6 years, nobody could assign me urgent bugs. I went to the balcony. Saw the sky. It was blue. Not #3B82F6 blue — actual blue. I called my mom from my landline. She asked if I was dying. I said no. She said 'then why are you calling?' Fair point, Amma.

Without internet, our office lunch group had to decide on food face-to-face. Big mistake. The biryani vs. meals debate that usually stays in chat became a 45-minute verbal war. HR got involved. Someone cited a Wikipedia article about biryani origins FROM MEMORY. We ordered both. Ate in hostile silence. Airtel went down but so did team morale.

I'm a day trader. When Airtel went down, my portfolio was open on the screen showing -2.3%. It stayed at -2.3% for 22 hours. I aged 15 years. When the internet came back, it was at +1.7%. The market fixed itself while I couldn't watch. Lesson: Airtel outages are my new investment strategy. Don't look. Just breathe.

When WiFi died, my entire para came out. Uncles who hadn't spoken since 2019. Aunties with fresh shingaras. The neighbourhood dog got 17 belly rubs. Someone brought a transistor radio. We listened to cricket commentary like it was 1998. It was the best evening in years. Airtel, you accidentally gave us back our childhood. Don't make it a habit though.

My screen time was 11 hours/day. When Airtel went down, I went to Nahargarh Fort. No phone. Just me, the sunset, and 200 tourists who also had no Airtel signal. We all stood there in shared silence, watching the sky turn orange. A stranger said 'beautiful.' I said 'beautiful.' We nodded. That was the most meaningful conversation I've had in 2026. I still don't know his name.

I've been telling my family I work from home. When WiFi died, my laptop became a very expensive paperweight. My mother watched me sit at my desk doing nothing for 6 hours and said 'I thought you had meetings?' I said 'internet is down.' She said 'so this is what you do all day?' I have never been more exposed. Not by the outage — by my own mother.

I was on a video call with a US client when the signal dropped. Spent 40 minutes driving through Pune's one-ways trying to find a cafe with WiFi. Reached one in Koregaon Park. Ordered a ₹450 latte. Connected to WiFi. Client had already left the call. Email said 'Let's reschedule.' I drank the latte. It was mid. Airtel owes me ₹450 and my dignity.