Somewhere on your feed right now, a 26-year-old is telling the internet that their back, in fact, feels like it’s housed in the body of a 60 year old, and the replies are a chorus of “same”. It is the defining inside joke of our generation, shared with great camaraderie. Arpita, 29, a Delhi-based consultant, was in on it too, her neck had been sore since her first year at work in 2018. When a relative suggested physiotherapy, she dismissed it as “such an old-people thing”. That was until she opened her laptop for a meeting and, halfway through, found she could no longer turn her head. Colleagues asked if she was still connected, but she was lying in the next room, wondering if she was paralysed for life and whether a person on the 11th floor could be airlifted. It is not how anyone plans their twenties, but it is increasingly how they go.
The doc’s waiting room is getting younger
Devangi Vaishnav, a Rajkot-based physiotherapist with nearly three decades of practice, says 35 to 40 per cent of her patients are now under 35. Think IT professionals, teachers, and anyone else whose job is connected to a screen, arriving with neck pain, tingling hands, and aching backs. The research suggests this is not simply a matter of a few unlucky people—south Asia has more cases of neck pain among 15- to 39-year-olds than any other region in the world. The culprits might sound familiar: poor posture, repetitive tasks, bad sleep, and an alarming screen time. We have found ways to be ergonomically careless even in our downtime; the same hunched-over back follows us from the desk to the sofa and into bed.
A 2025 study across 18 states in India found lower-back pain more common among 18- to 38-year-olds than older patients, attributable to a lack of ergonomic awareness and the physical demands of early working life. In other words, the idea that youth is a guarantee of physical resilience becomes complicated. The body may be young, but the working day is not necessarily kind to it, and we’re not just talking about some stiffness after a long day. It becomes a diagnosed medical condition, making the ordinary mechanics of living unexpectedly difficult.
Aaqib Khan, 26, a civil services aspirant in Delhi, began experiencing a sharp ache and tingling in his back while studying for his exams at the age of 18. MRI scans revealed multiple disc bulges, spondylitis, as well as mild sciatica. His doctors suggested several possible contributing factors—such as low vitamin D and a gym injury—but couldn’t pinpoint one definitive cause.
Managing the condition has meant physiotherapy, buying back and neck supports, and a burgeoning private healthcare bill. Even the advice to exercise comes with its own caveats, because in Delhi, poor air quality and neglected public parks means moving outside is not as straightforward as it sounds. “You need to be privileged to even exercise,” he says.
Being a gym fiend is not the answer
Gym regulars, do not gloat. Dr Manu Bora, an orthopaedic surgeon in Gurugram, says people often train their chest, back and biceps while neglecting the “smaller stabilising muscles, like the neck, scapula and hip flexors”. A body can become stronger in some ways without being prepared for the everyday demands placed on it.
Bora also questions the familiar instruction to sit up straight. “You can’t sit straight consciously,” he says. His point is that posture is not just a matter of willpower; it depends in part on the strength and coordination of the muscles supporting the body. Advice to hold a better position is futile if a person lacks the strength to sustain it or has to return to a workstation that encourages a hunch.
Suyash Tiwari, 26, a Mumbai-based consultant, has had neck spasms for four years and was diagnosed with cervical spondylitis. He initially suspected they were connected to the headers he took while playing football. The problem became more apparent after he began spending longer periods sitting still at work.
His condition now dictates small, unglamorous parts of his day. He cannot comfortably sleep on his sides, needs to rest his neck in a particular position, and do prescribed neck movements every morning. If he sits still for too long, a headache is his cue to get moving. Weight training can aggravate the problem, too. For someone used to thinking of exercise as the obvious solution, that is a frustrating catch. Tiwari says his doctor advised physiotherapy and movement; there is no medication that will make the problem disappear overnight. The work is in managing it, repeatedly, rather than finding a quick fix.
Blame the office chair
Knowing what your body needs is one thing. Being able to accommodate it during the day is another. Anisha Gupta, 27, a Delhi-based marketer, developed a neck spasm so severe after a massage that she needed emergency medical attention. It turned out to be cervical spondylitis, and it doesn’t help that her office desk is poorly suited to her height, leaving her hunched over her laptop. “Your head is not supposed to be down while looking at your phone. It’s supposed to be at your eye level, which obviously while working, while travelling, is very, very difficult to do.” She has raised the issue of her workstation but says little has changed. “No boss cares that you have a problem that is being caused while working for them,” she says.
The point is not that every ache can be blamed on a chair or a job. It is that employees are often expected to correct their posture without being given much control over the conditions that shape it. Ditty Akbari, 22, a Mumbai-based jewellery designer, sketches on an iPad for a living. In her final year of design college, her back pain became severe enough to require an injection. Ironically, they were taught ergonomics but also made to sit through three-hour classes on backless stools. At the physiotherapist, she remembers thinking: “This can’t be my life.”
Asking for a friend
The wellness industry is selling recovery in glamorous packaging, from hyperbaric chambers to red-light therapy. The contrast is stark: a generation with access to endless advice about the body is still struggling to manage basic pain.
Khushi Singh, 25, a Mumbai PR professional, organises high-end events around these elaborate wellness facilities and has first-hand experience on how narrow the audience for these treatments can be. “True luxury is clocking in and out at the right time,” she explains. If companies cannot offer that, they need to provide dedicated spaces and infrastructure for employees so they can rest and decompress, argues Singh.
Her six-hour workday on paper is double the hours in practice, resulting in shoulders that feel like stone, routine migraines, and one too many massages. Even her masseuse has told her to see a physiotherapist. “The only beautiful skies I get to see these days are on Instagram stories, because my neck won’t let me look up at the actual thing,” she says. Put it in a meme, but the reality is far from funny.
Another presumption is that young people should be able to put up with pain. Singh’s parents thought she was too young for a massage and told her to go for a run instead. Akbari’s pain was initially treated as “not that serious”. Khan says his friends are sympathetic but struggle to understand why someone his age cannot carry a heavy bag. The joke about having the back of a 60-year-old stays a joke, because if everyone is aching no one needs to ask why.
