Every protest has its own soundtrack. At the ongoing Cockroach Janta Party (CJP) student protest in Delhi, it is a mix of slogans, speeches and applause. But between those sounds, many students say there is another reality—a silence they believe has been imposed on them.
With internet services suspended around the protest site and several nearby Metro stations closed, many demonstrators say they are finding it difficult to stay in touch with their families, locate fellow protesters, coordinate movement and verify announcements being made from the stage.
For many, the internet shutdown has become more than just an inconvenience. They say it has added another challenge to an already difficult protest.
'We can't even tell our parents where we are'
Twenty-year-old Yashika Arya, who is attending the protest for the third time, said the impact of the internet shutdown became most apparent during the July 20 march to Parliament.
"We were at the protest when the internet suddenly stopped working. No updates about what was happening could reach anyone. We couldn't even tell our parents where we were or what was happening to us," she said.
According to Yashika, the communication blackout leaves protesters feeling vulnerable.
"If something happens to us tomorrow, we won't even be able to tell anyone where we are."
She also alleged that protesters faced lathi charges, abusive remarks and intimidation.
"The internet shutdown means we can't even protect ourselves by informing people about what's happening. If someone gets separated in the crowd, finding them becomes incredibly difficult," she said.
"Some students in my group had absolutely no network on their phones. If you get lost in a crowd, nobody knows where you are."
Despite the challenges, she said she felt safer among fellow protesters than elsewhere.
"I feel safer with the people protesting here than I do around the Delhi Police."
Yashika also alleged that women participating in the protest had received rape and acid attack threats online.
"People troll us on social media, abuse us and even threaten us with rape and acid attacks. But here, among the protesters, I still feel safe," she said.
'If someone gets lost, there is no way to reach them'
Nineteen-year-old Harshita said she had been attending the protest for three days. Although she was not an official volunteer, she began helping distribute food after seeing the large crowds.
"I'm not a food distribution volunteer. I just saw that people needed help distributing food, so I started helping," she said.
She described the lack of internet connectivity as one of the biggest difficulties.
"The internet is completely shut down. Yesterday and the day before, even the mobile network was jammed. If someone gets separated from the group, you can't hear them properly over a call in such a huge crowd, text messages don't go through, and there's no way to contact anyone."
She added that the closure of nearby Metro stations had made it harder for people to reach the protest site.
"All the Metro stations within about two kilometres are closed. Whether someone wants to come to the protest or even needs to go to a hospital, nobody is listening, even if you tell them it's an emergency," she said.
Coordination without communication
Twenty-six-year-old Naureen, who has been staying at the protest site since July 20, said coordinating activities had become increasingly difficult.
"If we need to post something or share a message, we have to leave the protest site and walk towards a Metro station where we might get internet," she said.
According to her, the communication restrictions have also led to confusion within the protest.
"Without communication, one thing is announced from the stage, but people hear something completely different. It creates confusion, panic and misinformation because the correct information doesn't reach everyone."
Naureen said many supporters had struggled to reach the protest because organisers were unable to guide them online.
"Many people keep asking us where they should come because the Metro stations are shut. If the internet wasn't blocked, we could have guided them," she said.
She believed the restrictions were limiting public awareness of the protest.
"All of this is happening so that people don't see what's really happening here and fewer people come out in support."
Even so, she appealed for the protest to remain peaceful.
"I just want to appeal to everyone protesting to keep this movement peaceful. Don't let anyone who wants to make this protest look violent succeed. Be responsible and don't let anyone hijack what we're trying to do," she said.
'Don't ghost us'
Among the younger participants was Yashi, a Class 12 student from Uttar Pradesh attending the protest for the first time.
She said the internet shutdown had left protesters feeling isolated.
"I don't think the internet should be banned here. If it is, people won't stay informed, and those here won't even be able to connect with the people they know," she said.
Like many others, she said she wanted accountability and reforms in the education system.
"I want resignations and a better education system. They should listen to us, come up with solutions, and stop ghosting us," she said.
She ended on an optimistic note.
"I'm really happy this protest is happening, and I just hope it doesn't go to waste."
As the protest continues, placards remain raised and slogans continue to echo through central Delhi. But many students say another struggle is unfolding alongside the demonstrations—one centred on communication itself.
Whether it is parents trying to reach their children, volunteers coordinating food distribution, protesters searching for missing friends or supporters trying to find the nearest operational Metro station, many believe the loss of internet connectivity has made an already challenging protest even more difficult.
For them, the most important message is not just the one being shouted from the stage, but the one they say they are unable to send.
