On WhatsApp Groups and Their Excesses

The Tyranny of the Green Dot

Photo by Dima Solomin on Unsplash

There was a time when being part of a group meant something. A book club, a PTA, an underground resistance. Now, it just means someone, somewhere, thought of you vaguely enough to add you to a WhatsApp group you didn’t ask for and can’t leave without seeming rude.

I’m currently in 47 WhatsApp groups. That’s not a metaphor. That’s an actual, distressing number. There’s the Friends 2.0 group (no one really knows what happened to Friends 1.0), the Work Banter group that is 90% memes and 10% passive-aggressive calendar links, the Without Borders group which is mostly about wedding venues in cities I will never visit, and of course, the Random School Reunions group that springs to life every five years like a haunted jack-in-the-box.

WhatsApp groups, I’ve realised, are like parties you’re invited to but can never leave. You’re not sure who’s hosting. You’re not even sure why you’re there. Someone sends a “Good Morning” image with a rose made of glitter and suddenly, five aunties are replying “Same to you, beta 🌸🙏” before 7 a.m. You haven’t even had your coffee.

We are living in an age of what I call social notification fatigue — a gentle, constant hum of obligation that never quite leaves. Every ding is a demand. Every unread message is a guilt. And the “You left the group” message is the digital equivalent of slamming the door at a dinner party. Rude, but liberating.

And yet, I don’t leave. Not really. Because sometimes, buried under 63 unread messages about weekend potlucks and school fees and political conspiracy theories involving lemons, someone shares a voice note that makes you laugh. Or a photo of a cousin’s baby you didn’t know you needed to see. And there it is — that flash of connection. That sweet, if fleeting, reminder that buried in the noise is still a signal.

So I stay. I mute. I smile politely in emoji. And I live with the green dot.

But one day, maybe, I’ll find the courage to leave them all. To walk into the quiet, glorious freedom of a world where I don't know what time Mahesh is landing in Mumbai, or which aunty’s cat is constipated.

And maybe, just maybe, I’ll start a new group.

Just Me. No Messages. No Replies. Just Peace.