A generation raised on reverence now drowns in validation – how social media rewired our moral compass
In the quiet valleys of Kashmir, where the soul of a people once echoed in prayer, simplicity, and shared humanity, a silent transformation is taking root, one that threatens to sever the thread between modernity and morality. The change is not loud or violent; it is subtle, creeping, almost unnoticeable until you compare the past with the present.
Return, for a moment, to the Kashmir of the early 2000s. It was a time when dignity, not display, defined a woman’s worth. Elders were not merely family members; they were living embodiments of wisdom, revered as the moral compass of every home and hamlet. Honour had no economic class. Whether one was wealthy or modest in means, respect was a shared currency, flowing freely between people.
Girls, in those days, walked with the quiet pride of grace. They were raised not for performance, but for purpose. Discipline, simplicity, and spiritual awareness formed the trinity of their upbringing. Even in the absence of smartphones or glittering malls, relationships blossomed rich in depth, profound in meaning. Boys and girls coexisted in a world where love meant respect, and dignity was not something to be performed, it was something to be protected.
That world, however, now flickers like a fading dream.
A Generation Unmoored
In today’s Kashmir, particularly among young women aged 18 to 25, we see the erosion of those moral and spiritual anchors. Not all, but many have drifted from the inherited wisdom of past generations. The shift is not just cultural, it is existential. We are not witnessing a change of trends; we are witnessing a change of truth.
What was once passed from mother to daughter, self-respect, empathy, and restraint now compete with the noise of social media, consumerism, and distorted ideas of freedom. Parenting, too, has weakened, as spiritual guidance is increasingly replaced with ambition, appearance, and academic pressure.
The result? A crisis not of character, but of conscience.
Addictions to validation, attention, and instant gratification have taken root. Many young minds wander through a fog of emotional confusion where love is mistaken for attraction, freedom for rebellion, and confidence for arrogance. This is not just a lifestyle drift. It is a philosophical disorder, a spiritual vacuum.
The question is no longer just, “What are you doing with your life?”
It is, “What is life doing to your soul?”
The old Kashmiri spirit of caring for a neighbour, of crying for a stranger, of living with intention—feels like a forgotten language. Westernised notions of independence are often copied blindly, without grasping their cultural roots or consequences. And in this blind imitation, we risk becoming strangers to ourselves.
The Moral Battle Within
This crisis is not external; it is internal. It plays out in choices, in silences, in values left unspoken. It is not about condemning girls who wear makeup or use phones. It is about asking: Have we traded our essence for our image?
Many young women today no longer ask:
Who am I beyond the screen? What is the meaning of my presence? Whose prayers carried me into this world, and what do I owe them?
They do not always see that in losing spiritual reflection, we lose the very compass that once helped us navigate life with dignity.
Kashmir today stands divided not just by class or fashion, but by soul. The collective heart has been splintered by the seductive force of materialism and a growing emotional detachment from values that once bound us as a people.
And Yet Hope Endures
But even in this crisis, I see light.
There are still daughters of this land who carry within them the strength of a thousand prayers, who walk with grace because their mothers taught them humility, not pride. There are still parents who raise their children with both softness and structure. These young women are not exceptions; they are examples. They must be honoured, protected, and multiplied.
To rebuild our society, we must not shout louder. We must listen deeper. We must reclaim parenting as a spiritual duty, not just a managerial task. Revive the soul of community, where neighbours are family and homes are havens of care. Teach our daughters that dignity is not a destination, but a way of walking. Celebrate self-respect over popularity, depth over display. Prioritise inner wellness over outer perfection.
Quranic Reflection
The Holy Qur’an reminds us:
“And your Lord has decreed that you not worship except Him, and to parents, good treatment.”
(Surah Al-Isra, 17:23)
This verse does not merely command respect for parents; it reminds us that spiritual grounding and ethical living are not optional. They are the pillars of a meaningful society.
The Vision of Iqbal
Allama Iqbal, the spiritual father of the East, offers us a vision beyond comfort:
“Nahin tera nasheman qasr-e-sultani ke gumbad par,
Tu shaheen hai, baseraa kar pahaadon ki chataano mein.”
(Your nest is not on the dome of a royal palace;
You are a falcon, make your home upon the rugged mountains.)
Iqbal calls on us to rise to struggle, to seek, to return to the peaks of moral clarity and spiritual resilience. Our daughters are not ornaments of the age; they are the soul of our future. And their strength lies not in imitation but in inner illumination.
Let Us Rise
Let us not sit idle as the soul of Kashmir fades into silence. Let us speak not with bitterness but with wisdom. Let us guide not with fear but with faith. Let us teach not just with words but with the lives we live.
Modernity without morality is like a river without a bed; it flows wildly, aimlessly, destructively.
Kashmir was never merely a place. It was a prayer, a promise, a philosophy. If we do not protect that sacred essence, who will?
But if we rise now with courage, compassion, and clarity, we may yet revive what was once beautiful.
The writer is a student of Law at Central University of Kashmir (CUK), Ganderbal and Spokesperson, Central University of Kashmir Students Union
Yasir Ganderbali
ya************@***il.com