In an age where our social media feeds move faster than our ability to think, misinformation has become the loudest voice in the room. It taps into our fears, our hopes, and our frustration, often before facts have a chance to catch up. This week, The Quint’s fact-checking team found itself sorting through a fresh wave of viral claims, each one designed to stir the pot. From the dark corners of online gossip to the heated battlefield of political loyalties, these five stories show just how easily we can be fooled. The cases ranged from an alleged assault incident at Lovely Professional University to an image of television sets supposedly tuned to a political press conference, and every single claim fell apart under close scrutiny. But here is the humbling part: all of them had an emotional hook. They made people angry, excited, or triumphant. They made us want to share them before asking a simple question—is this even real? If anything is clear, it is that the tools of deception have become incredibly sophisticated, and the only defense we have is a habit of curiosity and doubt. We must learn to pause, to question the source, and to recognize that a video or a photograph is no longer proof of anything.
Let’s start with a story that had all the ingredients of a juicy controversy: an older man dancing with a woman at a party, with a caption claiming that it showed Army Chief Dhiraj Seth flirting with an Army Major’s wife, Supreet Sapra. The clip was shared widely, and many people reacted with rage and disbelief, as one would expect when a senior military officer is implicated in something so personal and borderline scandalous. But the truth is far less dramatic. The video was altered using artificial intelligence. The original footage had no connection to the Army or the named individuals. It was just a video of an older man dancing with a woman at a gathering, stripped of all context and then dressed up with a fabricated narrative to make it go viral. This is a perfect example of how AI is being weaponized against real people, destroying reputations in the process. Imagine being the man in that video, suddenly recognized as an Army chief by strangers, or being the woman, accused of something she never did. The internet has no built-in courtesy for correction; once the lie spreads, the damage is done. That is why we cannot afford to be passive consumers of media. When something feels scandalous, a little skepticism is not just useful—it is necessary.
The second viral claim involved an even more sensitive subject: the alleged assault incident at Lovely Professional University, which has already inflamed public opinion and sparked nationwide conversations about safety and accountability. A video surfaced online, supposedly showing a Punjab police official saying that a BJP worker and a relative of Amit Shah, the Union Home Minister, were involved in the case. The implication was explosive—that the police were protecting powerful people and trying to suppress the truth. Given the existing anger surrounding the incident, many people wanted to believe this, and they shared it widely. But again, the video was AI-altered. It did not show a real police official making any such statement. It was fabricated from an unrelated clip and given a voiceover or altered audio to push a false narrative. This kind of misinformation is especially dangerous because it feeds into real social tensions. When institutions are already under suspicion, a fake video can become the spark that leads to mob mentality, online harassment, or even violence. The fact-check does not defend any specific party or individual; it simply insists on the truth. Regardless of what one believes about the LPU case, the integrity of the conversation depends on not being manipulated by synthetic media. The moment we accept a fake video because it says what we want to hear, we have abandoned the very idea of justice.
The next two cases show how old footage and geographically mistaken clips are often recycled to create false narratives. In one video, a man performs a welcome ceremony, blowing smoke from a herb in front of a football team. It was shared with the claim that India was welcoming the Brazilian football team, which sounded plausible enough to many sports fans and nationalists looking for a feel-good moment. But the video was actually shot in Australia, where the Brazilian team was welcomed by the Wulgurukaba Walkabouts, an Aboriginal dance group. The ceremony was beautiful and authentic in its original context, but the lie stripped it of meaning and repurposed it for a different country’s pride. Similarly, an old video from January 2024, showing a massive crowd chanting “EVM hatao, desh bachao,” was passed off as recent visuals from Delhi’s Jantar Mantar, where people were protesting to demand the resignation of Chief Election Commissioner Gyanesh Kumar. The demand for electoral transparency is a legitimate issue, and the protests were real—but that particular clip was not from the recent event. It was a year-old recording from a different movement. Why does this matter? Because when you share an old video as new, you distort the scale and urgency of current protests, making it harder for genuine voices to be heard. The public deserves accurate reporting, not recycled emotional punchlines. These examples remind us that context is everything; without it, any image or clip can be twisted to serve a completely different story.
The final widely shared piece of fake news was an image that appeared to show an entire television section of an electronics store, with every screen displaying Congress leader Rahul Gandhi’s press conference. The caption gleefully claimed that shops across India had switched to Gandhi’s speech, describing it as “unreal popularity” and linking it to a UPI tax effect. It was a perfect picture for supporters: a visual symbol of a leader resonating with the masses. But it was too good to be true. The image was AI-altered. No such display existed. This is perhaps the most insidious form of misinformation because it plays on our deepest psychological instincts—confirmation bias. People who admire Rahul Gandhi want to see evidence that he is more popular than the media reports; people who oppose him might also share it ironically to mock. Either way, the false image spreads. It becomes a talking point, a meme, a piece of “evidence” in an argument, even though it has no basis in reality. We have reached a point where our eyes cannot be trusted. We look at a photograph and think, “Well, this must be true, the camera doesn’t lie.” But the camera does lie, or rather, the algorithm behind the camera lies. AI-generated images are now so realistic that even trained professionals struggle to identify them. For an ordinary person scrolling through social media, the challenge is even greater. The only sustainable solution is to slow down, question the source, and check with reliable fact-check organizations before letting a viral post ignite our emotions or shape our opinions.
At the end of the day, these five examples are more than just isolated mistakes; they are warnings about the state of our information ecosystem. The people who create and spread such falsehoods are not clumsy amateurs. They understand human psychology. They know that anger makes us click, fear makes us share, and identity makes us careless. They exploit our desire to be in the know, to be part of a movement, to have our biases validated. But each time we fall for a lie, we undermine the trust that holds society together. We contribute to a world where no one knows what to believe, where every fact has an alternative, and where the loudest conspiracy theory gets as much respect as the most careful journalism. That is a frightening place to live. But there is hope. We can choose to be different. We can choose to verify before sharing, to follow fact-checkers, to read beyond headlines, and to support media outlets that dedicate time to exposing lies. The Quint invited readers to send suspicious posts and information for verification, and that is a step in the right direction—not just for journalists, but for all of us. When you come across something that feels outrageous, pause and ask: Who created this? What evidence supports it? Does the official source confirm it? Is this an image or video that could have been altered? It might feel boring to be skeptical in a world of exciting stories, but the quiet pursuit of truth is the most powerful act of resistance. We must care enough about our communities, our democracy, and ourselves to demand better, to be better, and to share only what we are certain is real. The internet will always be a wild place, but we can be the ones who bring a little light into it.