Parliament Can Say ‘Delulu’—But Does It Understand Gen Z?

When words like delulu, FOMO and other Gen Z expressions recently found their way into Parliament, the reactions were predictable. Social media erupted with reels and memes, television debates revelled in the novelty, and many applauded politicians for speaking the language of young India. But that moment also raised a more consequential question: have older generations merely learnt Gen Z's lingo, or have they understood the generation that created it? As advocate Kunal Yadav, 29, who spent weeks at the recent Jantar Mantar protests, puts it: “Speaking like Gen Z is far easier than understanding Gen Z.”

The digital-first generation

Every generation is shaped by the dominant technology of its youth. The radio generation imagined the nation through voices. Television produced citizens who experienced politics as a visual spectacle. Gen Z is the first generation raised entirely within the internet. “They did not ‘discover’ smartphones. They discovered the world through smartphones. Their classrooms extended into YouTube explainers. Their friendships unfolded on Instagram and WhatsApp. Their political education happened through podcasts, Reddit threads, reels, livestreams, and creators who often command larger audiences than traditional media houses,” explains Piyush Kumar, publishing director, Prabhat Prakashan. Unlike previous generations, Gen Z has never known information to be scarce. For Gen Z, the challenge is information overload.

The consequences became visible during the recent nationwide protests, led by a generation born into a world of smartphones, social media and algorithm-driven feeds. The protests did not define an entire generation. They did, however, offer a revealing glimpse into how many young Indians organise, communicate and express dissent, and for whom documentation is not mere observation but a form of participation, and a tool for civic engagement. Growing up with instant access to information has also reshaped their relationship with authority. They are more inclined to question institutions than defer to them. “Unlike earlier generations, they are less inclined to accept hierarchy simply because it exists. They question, verify, record and share, and in real time. Screenshots, videos and live streams have become tools of civic participation as much as social interaction,” says Kumar, a Xennial. The technological shift has altered not only communication but citizenship itself, where participation has become instantaneous, and silence difficult.

Gen Z documents before it reacts because in the attention economy, what gets documented often becomes what gets discussed. Unlike earlier generations that relied on journalists to tell their stories, Gen Z carries a newsroom in its pocket. Every phone is simultaneously a camera, a television studio, an archive and a publishing house. An incident at a protest site no longer remains local. Within minutes, it can shape the national conversation. Like it did recently.

The language of protest

Every generation creates shorthand. The difference is speed. Baby Boomers had slogans. Gen X and Millennials had abbreviations born in chat rooms and SMS. Gen Z has internet slang, which is not linguistic laziness. For Gen Z, it is cultural compression. Words such as delulu are shorthand for calling out unrealistic expectations or detached narratives. FOMO captures the anxiety of living in a hyperconnected world where everyone else’s achievements seem constantly on display. These terms of engagement compress their complex emotional and social experiences into instantly recognisable cultural references.

Institutions may borrow the vocabulary, but understanding the values beneath it—transparency, accountability, merit, mental health and gender equality—is a far greater challenge, asserts Yadav. “The ones who congregated at the Jantar Mantar proved that these are not online ideals. There was no VIP culture, no harassment. Protesters took collective responsibility for cleanliness, first aid and women's safety. They didn't wait to be told what to do; they simply took ownership,” says the young advocate.

It is their irreverence that often unsettles older generations. Memes, slang, profanity, and online mockery are dismissed as signs of indiscipline or shrinking attention spans. Yet reducing these expressions to bad manners ignores the social realities that produce them. Behind the humour often lies exhaustion. Behind the sarcasm, uncertainty.

To make sense of it all, Gen Z’s vocabulary is a reflection of how young people negotiate identity, anxiety and belonging in a world that is always online. “Older generations are slowly using our vocabulary, although most of them run into problems related to our mindset. More often than not, they cheer our successes but disapprove of us once we express our opinions. If older generations were to adopt something from Gen Z, it would definitely be our inquisitiveness, active involvement, and readiness to be responsible rather than rely on others,” says Yadav. Mimicking the language without engaging with the underlying concerns turns communication into performance, and reduces an entire generation to its memes.

Heed Gen Z’s lingua franca

Children are not born speaking the language of profanity. They pick it up from their homes, films, music, gaming culture, stand-up comedy, social media, and political discourse that has itself grown increasingly coarse.

But do these make Gen Z more anxious and emotionally vulnerable than previous generations, or are they simply more willing to articulate their struggles in a fun way? Millennial psychologist Anchal Saxena doesn’t believe that Gen Z is necessarily more anxious or emotionally vulnerable than previous generations. “Every generation has faced its own challenges. What sets Gen Z apart is that they are more emotionally aware and more willing to express their feelings rather than suppress them. I also find them to be a more inclusive, empathetic, and accepting generation. They are more emotionally aware, which is a great quality to have,” says Saxena.

If public conversation has become harsher over the past decade, expecting young people to emerge untouched is unrealistic. In that sense, Gen Z’s use of profanity and abrasive online behaviour is less a behavioural problem and individual moral failure and more a reflection of the society around them. Social media has given more people the courage to be vocal about their dissatisfaction and fight for their rights in their language. The question is not: Why do they speak like this? The more uncomfortable question is: What have we created that has made this normal?

Saxena agrees that language is often a form of emotional expression, especially during frustration or anger. “Young people learn from the society around them. They have grown up seeing aggressive language used by older generations, including public figures and politicians. Rather than blaming Gen Z alone, we should also reflect on the examples that society has consistently set for them,” she states.

The burden of being Gen Z

Unlike previous generations, Gen Z does not experience these anxieties one at a time. They unfold simultaneously. Academic competition is intensifying with paper leaks. Job insecurity is discussed daily on LinkedIn. Climate anxiety is reinforced by every heatwave, wildfire and flood that appears in a social media feed. Constant connectivity ensures that crises are no longer occasional interruptions but part of everyday life.

Many feel pressure to constantly perform, online and offline, while comparing themselves with carefully curated versions of other people's lives. The pressures are different in both scale and nature for Gen Z than what their parents or grandparents had to deal with. Parents are witnessing this transformation up close. “It is the generation that questions everything, be it teachers, news reports, even family decisions. Sometimes it feels exhausting, but I also realise that this generation isn’t looking for lectures; it wants honest conversations,” suggests Kumar.

Yadav, who was at the protest site for two weeks, agrees that he abhors the use of inappropriate language, and that it should not become the defining image of an entire movement or discredit many like him who fought for what is right with all their might. “Every large gathering will have isolated incidents, but it would be unfair to ignore the overwhelming discipline and responsibility shown by the vast majority of protesters. Ultimately, people should judge the movement by its demands, its conduct as a whole, and the questions it sought to raise, not only by a few clips or isolated moments that went viral, and could deflect attention from the right cause for the wrong reasons,” he says.

Questioning institutions is often mistaken for disrespect. But digital natives are accustomed to interactive systems. Search engines respond instantly. Customer complaints receive tracking numbers. AI responds within seconds. It is, therefore, unsurprising that a generation raised on responsive technologies expects similar responsiveness from schools, universities, employers and governments.

That expectation extends beyond the family. “We’re often told we’re disrespectful because we ask difficult questions. But accountability isn't disrespect. If institutions expect trust, they also need to earn it,” says Yadav.

For many institutions, however, communication still flows in one direction. Policies are announced, statements are issued, and compliance is expected. Gen Z, by contrast, expects dialogue, transparency and responsiveness.

Medium, Message, Messenger

The real shift is not in Gen Z’s vocabulary but in its relationship with authority. Earlier generations often accepted institutions by default. Gen Z tends to evaluate them continuously. Trust is no longer inherited; it has to be earned.

Social media has amplified that instinct. Platforms reward immediacy, humour and virality, often reducing complex debates to reels, memes and trending hashtags. The medium is fast, emotional and imperfect. Yet dismissing an argument because it arrives wrapped in internet slang or sarcasm risks overlooking the grievance that gave rise to it.

Yadav cautions that social media demands discernment from everyone. “Platforms have given ordinary people a voice that was once reserved for institutions and traditional media. That is healthy. But they also reward attention over thoughtfulness. Difficult issues are often reduced to viral clips and catchy slogans. Social media users, too, have a responsibility to verify before they amplify,” he says.

His larger concern is that isolated clips should not eclipse the larger picture. “Every large gathering will have isolated incidents. But it would be unfair to ignore the overwhelming discipline and responsibility shown by the vast majority of protesters. Ultimately, people should judge a movement by its demands, its conduct as a whole, and the questions it sought to raise—not merely by a few viral moments,” adds Yadav.

Intent matters

History suggests that every meaningful social movement has drawn energy from young people’s impatience before it found broader acceptance. Kumar couldn’t agree more. “From India’s freedom movement to the anti-Emergency resistance, from struggles for social justice to anti-corruption mobilisations, anger itself is morally neutral. It can destroy. Or it can build. The real question is whether we know how to channel that rage,” he says.

Summing up, Saxena says, “Young people don’t need to be silenced; they need to be heard. Parents, schools, and institutions should encourage respectful dialogue, critical thinking, emotional literacy, and active participation in society. When young people feel their voices are valued rather than dismissed, they are more likely to channel frustration into meaningful action. Resilience is built not by suppressing emotions but by helping them express those emotions constructively and responsibly.”

When food arrives in ten minutes, entertainment begins instantly, and information appears within seconds, delays begin to feel unnatural. A generation raised in an ecosystem of instant responses naturally expects the same responsiveness from schools, universities, employers and governments. It is not merely asking to be spoken to in its own language; it is asking to be heard on its own terms.

Parliament may have learnt to say delulu; understanding the generation that coined it is another matter. Pop culture references may make for engaging headlines, but they cannot substitute for meaningful engagement with a generation that expects dialogue, transparency and accountability. The real challenge before parents, policymakers and institutions today is not learning Gen Z’s vocabulary, but listening to the generation behind it.