Things that made me cringe in 2025

Digital Mahakumbh Snan

You sent your photo on WhatsApp, and someone dipped it in the Ganga for you — that was the entire proposition, presented without hesitation and taken just as seriously by the people paying for it.

What made it unsettling was not the idea itself but how quickly it felt normal. Religion met convenience and a reasonably sharp business instinct, and nobody involved seemed to think it needed further justification. You did not have to travel, stand in line, or experience anything uncomfortable. The phone did all the work.

When the digital snans stopped generating real money and started becoming jokes online, the same person adjusted course. The gutter snan arrived with a clearer sense of what the internet wanted.

This version leaned fully into absurdity and was framed as a solution for people beyond saving, such as economic offender Lalit Modi or the crisis-hit IndiGo airlines. The humour was unintentional at first and then increasingly deliberate.

Screenshot/Instagram

Names were casually suggested in comments: Influencers who had been cancelled or people permanently stuck in apology cycles. No religious authority was involved. Only attention and engagement mattered.

Coldplay Kiss Cam

A CEO appeared on a kiss cam with someone who was not his wife, and the internet treated it like a public inquiry. The clip itself was forgettable. What followed was not. Statements appeared. Subtweets multiplied. Armchair experts weighed in. HR conversations emerged from nowhere. The response escalated far beyond the moment and somehow managed to be more uncomfortable than the original video.

There was also the familiar reminder of how much time people are willing to invest in situations that have nothing to do with them. Coldplay continued their streak of being inexplicably overvalued, and Instagram once again proved how efficiently it can turn nothing into prolonged distraction.

LinkedIn Trauma Dumps

LinkedIn now produces a steady supply of second-hand embarrassment. Personal setbacks are routinely repackaged into content with lessons neatly numbered and positioned as professional growth. Getting fired, cheated on, or emotionally wrecked becomes material for a carousel post. The tone is always reflective, the conclusion always optimistic, and the intent always visible.

What makes this worse is that LinkedIn could intervene if it wanted to. It is a business platform with rules and consequences. Instead, it rewards this behaviour and slowly turns into a feed of public coping mechanisms disguised as thought leadership.

‘We Are Sorry’ Trend

For several weeks, vague apologies dominated feeds. People posted videos expressing regret without explaining what they were apologising for. There was no resolution and no accountability. The lack of context did not matter. The format worked, and that seemed to be enough.

‘We are sorry’ trend on Instagram/Screenshot

Anyone who suggested this was a good idea should probably self-demote themselves.

Nikhil Kamath x Elon Musk

This conversation was framed as a milestone moment. It mostly highlighted how unclear Elon Musk remains about his own positions. The discussion drifted through familiar territory without landing anywhere specific. Confidence carried the exchange more than substance.

Being extremely wealthy appears to grant the freedom to speak loosely while being treated seriously.

To be fair, Kamath already commands attention and enjoys a credible clout. This did not meaningfully add to it. There is a point where access stops translating into value.

Ragebait As Strategy

Ragebait became harder to ignore once financial incentives were attached to engagement.

Online, opinions are increasingly designed to irritate rather than convince. Many creators do not appear invested in what they are saying. The objective is reaction, not belief.

Offline, the same energy seems to have leaked into everyday life. Living in Delhi often feels like being placed inside a permanent stress test. I feel the city is ragebaiting me daily. I am sure everyone will agree with me on that. The internet simply trained people to monetise that feeling.

Main Character Energy (Still?)

This concept should have run its course by now. Instead, feeds remain full of slow-motion walks, reflective voice-overs, and ordinary moments presented as narrative arcs. Traffic lights become symbols. Coffee orders become milestones.

Most people are not protagonists in anything particularly cinematic. Owning recording equipment does not change that. Please switch off your phone and touch some grass.

GRWM For No Reason

Get Ready With Me videos no longer lead anywhere. Even though the videos are barely a minute long, the amount of time behind them is absurd. Someone woke up far earlier than necessary, set up a camera, filmed a routine, edited it, and posted it, all without having a place to go.

There was that guy who proudly woke up at four in the morning to dunk his face in ice and document it. That clip alone should have ended the genre. And a lot of creators continue to lean heavily on this format because it reliably delivers higher views. Everyone knows why it works. There is no mystery left in that transaction.

Soft-Life Routine

The soft life genre continues to misunderstand its own premise. If something is being filmed, edited, and uploaded, it is no longer soft. Neutral furniture, herbal drinks, and a lack of visible obligations do not automatically indicate balance. Often, they indicate boredom. If you are so bored, please have a good sleep instead of making a reel.

If rest is genuinely the goal, documenting it undermines the exercise.

2012–2016 Nostalgia Loop

The internet decided that the early 2010s represented some kind of peak. Nostalgia requires at least more than 30 years of living. Ten years is not enough distance for nostalgia. It is barely enough time for perspective. Reels celebrating old filters and app layouts confuse familiarity with meaning.

The past has become content because the present feels thin. You are not that old, do not jump the gun, wait your turn! It will come!

AI Slop Flooding Social Media

AI was supposed to make things easier. That was the promise. Faster work, better tools, less pointless labour. You know it when you see it — the shiny, soulless images, floating limbs, same lighting, and fake style. AI art went from being exciting to exhausting in record time.

Every post looked like a perfume ad made by someone who’s never seen a face before.

I really do want to meet the person who did the original prompt on that cat video with papa cat and the rest of the family though.

AI Mahabharata

Someone decided the Mahabharata needed an AI remake. The result looked artificial and hollow, with characters blending into each other and no sense of scale or storytelling. Where is the religious outrage when you need it?

There were a hundred Kauravas. Finding twenty real artists should not have been this hard.

Bill Gates in Kyunki Saas Bhi Kabhi Bahu Thi

Not the best year for Gates. First, this clip, then his name showing up in the Epstein list, and somehow this still managed to feel worse. A video of him on a saas-bahu episode was strange enough on its own. Using a MacBook instead of anything remotely on brand felt deliberate, like they wanted to push it a little further. The clip just sits there in the feed, adding to a year that already looked awkward from every angle.

Saiyaara

It was promoted like the second coming of Blue Valentine. What we got was sappy songs, a lot of crying, and exactly one expression across the entire runtime. There were reels about this film before there were actual reviews. And if you believe me, the poster of this film showed up in the dictionary next to the word OVERHYPED.

Skyforce

Everything about this screamed effort, but not in a good way. The acting was dialled up. The dance moves were loud. The emotion was more slogan than story. It looked like it was designed by someone who thinks every scene is a climax. Even PR and influencers could not make it work.

Ajay Devgn’s Hand Dance (Pehla Tu)

This moment stood out for different reasons.

The movement required minimal effort and no real commitment. It spread quickly. The simplicity was almost admirable. There was no attempt to justify it as more than it was. My favourite cringe moment of the year.

Mere Husband Ki Biwi

The title alone raised questions. Someone approved it. Someone funded it. Someone completed it. Very few seemed willing to stand by it publicly. Even Arjun Kapoor skipping the premiere felt like an honest reaction.

One last thing… This list could have been longer and probably should have been, but there is only so much second-hand embarrassment one can document in a year.

The internet shows no signs of slowing down or learning anything from itself.

If 2025 was practice, 2026 looks confident and well prepared. There will be more trends, more formats, more explanations for things nobody asked for. There will be plenty to add next time.