There was a time when the evening was perhaps the most beautiful part of a family’s time. After returning from work, family members would sit together. Children would complete their homework, grandparents would narrate stories from their lives, parents would ask about their children’s day, and sometimes the entire family would simply sit together and talk.
Today, something has quietly changed. The family still gathers in the same room, but everyone seems to be somewhere else. One person is watching a video. Another is scrolling through social media. Someone is answering messages. A child is holding a mobile phone. The grandparents sit nearby, often silently waiting for someone to speak to them. We are physically together, but emotionally far apart.
The mobile phone is undoubtedly one of the greatest blessings of modern technology. It has made communication easier, brought knowledge to our fingertips and become an important tool for education, work and emergency communication. UNICEF also recognises that digital technology can provide children with opportunities for learning and connection, while warning that families need healthy digital habits and protection from its risks.
The problem, therefore, is not the mobile phone itself. The problem begins when the device designed to connect us starts disconnecting us from the people sitting beside us.
I have observed this increasingly in families around me. After returning from work, family members assemble in the evening—the very time when children need conversation, parents need rest and elderly members need companionship. Yet, instead of creating an atmosphere of reading, writing, discussion and interaction, many of us immediately reach for our phones and our children are watching. This is perhaps the most worrying part.
We often complain that children are addicted to mobile phones. We tell them to stop watching videos. We ask them to read books and concentrate on their studies. But what do they see when they look at us?
A child may hear a parent saying, “Leave the phone and study,” while that same parent spends the next hour scrolling through the phone.
Children do not learn only from what we tell them. They learn much more from what we do. If they see us reading, they may develop an interest in books. If they see us talking respectfully with grandparents, they may learn to value elders. If they see us spending time together without screens, they may understand that relationships deserve our attention. But if they repeatedly see adults choosing screens over conversation, they may naturally consider the phone more important than people.
A recent Indian study involving caregivers of young children found that screens are often used to keep children quiet, occupy them during household responsibilities or even help during meals. The study also identified concerns about reduced social interaction, behavioural changes and children’s declining interest in books and imaginative activities.
Another study among young children in India found a striking gap between what parents believe and what actually happens: although most parents felt children should not be given phones, many of their children were nevertheless using them.
This contradiction deserves our attention.
We sometimes give a phone to a child because we are busy. We give it during meals because the child refuses to eat. We give it when the child is crying because we want silence. We give it while doing household work because we need a few peaceful minutes.
Slowly, the phone becomes a babysitter.
And eventually, the child begins to believe that happiness, entertainment and comfort are all found inside that small screen.
What are we giving our children—and what are we taking away?
Every hour a child spends endlessly scrolling is potentially an hour not spent playing outdoors, talking with parents, listening to grandparents, drawing, reading, imagining or simply being bored—the kind of boredom from which creativity often grows.
The loss is not always visible. We may not notice it today.
But years later, we may discover that our children know hundreds of people on social media but struggle to have a meaningful conversation with someone sitting beside them.
They may know how to operate every application but know little about the stories of their grandparents.
They may watch hundreds of stories on a screen but never listen to the stories of their own family.
That would be a very painful exchange.
The forgotten people sitting in our homes
There is another dimension that deserves attention—our elderly parents.
Many of them spent their lives raising us. They worked, sacrificed and tolerated difficulties so that we could have better lives.
Now, when they need our time, we sometimes offer them only a few hurried minutes. They may want to tell us something that happened decades ago. They may want to discuss their health, their memories or simply talk about the day. But we are busy looking at a screen.
Perhaps we should ask ourselves:
What is the use of having the latest smartphone if we no longer have time to listen to the people who gave us everything?
Let us change the example before blaming the child
The solution does not require throwing away every mobile phone. It requires something much harder.
We have to change ourselves.
Let the evening have one hour without phones.
Let families eat at least one meal together without screens. UNICEF India has similarly recommended device-free family meals and dedicated playtime as ways of strengthening children’s social and emotional development.
Let parents read in front of their children. Let grandparents tell stories. Let children ask questions. Let families discuss their day. Let children play outside.
And, most importantly, let us stop demanding from children what we are unwilling to practise ourselves. The mobile phone should remain our servant—not become our master. Technology should help us build a better life, not quietly replace the relationships that make life worth living. The future of society is sitting in our homes today. Our children are watching every action we take.
If we want them to read, let them see us reading. If we want them to respect elders, let them see us respecting our parents. If we want them to talk to us, let us put our phones down and talk to them.
If we want them to become humane human beings, let them first see humanity in us.
The greatest danger is not that our children will learn too much from mobile phones. The greater danger is that they may learn too little from us. Perhaps tonight, when the family gathers, we should place the mobile phone aside for a while.
Look at our children. Look at our parents. And talk.
Because one day our children may forget the videos they watched, the messages they received and the posts they liked. But they will remember whether we were present when they needed us. That is a choice still in our hands.
Email: paryazdot11@gmail.com
