Dr. Shruti Shankar Gaur

“We are analog beings living in a digital world, facing a quantum future” – Neil Turok

In the era ruled by screens, can we cut ourselves off from social media? Is it even possible to actually pause every notification in life? I didn’t have answers to these questions #tbh nor was I seeking them when I chose to hibernate from the digital world three months ago.

By September, I had wrapped up all my projects. My older one had left for college, and with that came a vacuum. For the first time in a long while, I found myself standing at an unfamiliar crossroads, unsure of what to do next. The idea sprouted: to take a sabbatical from social media. Try living an analog life. It just felt instinctive. Perhaps I needed a break from the virtual rhythm. More than anything, I needed to pause in order to rest, and to replenish.

So by September end, I began to gather the pieces of an analog life. Books that had been patiently waiting on my shelf, articles saved for a more generous day, podcasts I had meant to listen to, films I had promised myself I would watch someday, meet people, and spend more time with family. And then there was scriptwriting, a long-held longing tucked away in a corner of my mind. If not now, then when? Now felt like the right time… time to finally try. No digital presence and social media scrolling for 3 months – October to December 2025. 

I also knew that if I did this alone, complacency might quietly slip in. So I reached out to a few writer friends, thus, finding my partners in crime. Four of us began writing every morning for two hours. It isn’t the writing that mattered, what mattered most was being there for each other. We did this for seventy straight days. Somewhere along the way, it stopped feeling like a commitment and started feeling like a small joy of e-meeting familiar faces, sharing what we were reading and writing at the moment, and feeling less alone in the process.

What did I achieve? I found myself. It wasn’t easy though. It took time to slow the pace of life. To observe every breath, to make it intentional. To find joy in simply being alive. To feel the air on my cheeks, and a beat to my feet. I didn’t shun screens; in fact, I only changed the medium. I moved away from the phone, emails and social media, and towards the larger screen watching OTT and YouTube.

And if I were to quantify these ninety days of analog living in a nutshell:

• Wrote on 65+ days
• Watched 30+ films and one series (Stranger Things – five seasons)
• Picked a book and tried scripting it and fell in love with the process
• Read 7 books (including a few re-reads)
• Slept 8–10 hours every single day
• Reduced phone screen time from 3h 50m to 50 minutes of weekly average

Qualitative Reflections of 90 Days of Analog Living

1. Writing Without an Agenda
   I didn’t decide what to write in the morning. I just wrote. Initially I had thought of publishing more during this time but most of it never made it to the ‘publish’ stage. My pages are full of half-baked thoughts, ideas still stretching, waiting for more reading, more wondering…..as raw material for the future. 
2. Daily Journaling (and a Very Bossy Conscious Mind)
   I realised that even while journaling, my conscious mind wasn’t loosening its grip. So I turned to Julia Cameron’s method: write fast, write messy, let the unconscious surface. Easier said than done. For days, I struggled. Even at speed, my mind kept interfering. After many attempts, there were days when writing flowed without effort. Those days were rare and pure gold.
3. Being Present (Still a Work in Progress)
   Like many millennials, at any given point, there are hundreds of channels simultaneously running in my head. Rereading One Hundred Years of Solitude, I realised the real noise isn’t external, it’s internal. Even when everything is stripped away, thoughts keep running the show. That’s the downside of a mind trained to operate 24/7 at godspeed. It doesn’t know how to pause. Only breathwork helped here. 
4. Breaking Up with the To-Do List
   I deliberately stayed away from to-do lists. No reminders, no boxes to tick. I wanted to take each day as it came, to move with the flow instead of managing it. No alarms, and no notifications. I slept a lot peacefully.These three months turned out to be revealing. I learned a great deal about myself but not all of it was flattering. (This can be another blog for some other day.)
5. A Mind That Fears the Unknown
   My mind is deeply addicted to productivity. It likes plans. It likes knowing what comes next. Letting go of that control took time. The discomfort was real.I am still struggling here and couldn’t get rid of it. 
6. Turning pages into script
   Scriptwriting had been a long-held dream. During hibernation, I finally picked a book, mapped the story, broke it into three acts using the hero’s journey and started writing. It felt natural. I loved playing with the story, felt powerful like I am the GOD here, pulling strings in the life of characters. Easily the most rewarding part of these ninety days.
7. Stories, Screens, and Getting Lost
   I watched OTT content like never before, sometimes three movies in a day. I convinced myself I will be observing as a storyteller. But promptly would forget that, eventually laughing and crying my way through scenes, completely lost in the story.
8. Family Time
   Time was bounty and so naturally I was available for everyone around. I bonded over OTT with my younger daughter, we rewatched Stranger Things from Season One, just in time for the finale.
9. The Last (and Loudest) Month
   December arrived with my older one returning home. Life instantly got erratic with shopping sprees, late-night movies, endless conversations, and long, cozy stretches of family time. A great way to wind the year up. 

The only thing I wish I had added to the intentional analog life was a regular exercise routine. I am adding that to my new year resolution. I’m emerging from this hibernation with renewed energy, brimming with ideas, and ready to dive back into work. Would I keep some part of this pause? Absolutely. But I’ve also realized: the true pause isn’t in stepping away from social media but it’s in quieting the mind.

We think constantly, chase tasks, and measure every minute. Slowing down through writing, breathwork, or simply choosing presence reminds us what it feels like to live intentionally. Analog life isn’t about rejecting the digital world; it’s about creating space for curiosity, play, and connection with the physical world around us. During the 90 days of hibernation, I found freedom, clarity, and a deeper sense of being. And that, more than anything, is worth hibernating for.

“Life is pretty simple. You do some stuff. Most Fails. Some Works. You Do More Of What Works.” – Leonardo da Vinci