Reduced cognitive performance. Anxiety. Depression. Obesity. Myopia. The mohallah playground is dying. The darasgah is distant. If these elements disappear, smartphones will not merely occupy children’s time; they will quietly reshape their relationships, their values, and eventually, the society we live in.
Zaheen Nuz Zaman
My younger brother Ziyan, studying in Class 5 at a prestigious institution on the outskirts of Srinagar, has been reported by his teachers as being inattentive. According to them, he is no longer focusing on solving problems and is usually drowsy in school. When I visited his school, an adverse report was presented to me by the school management. “Your brother, who was once a topper in our school, is not interested in studies anymore,” the Principal revealed. This report hit me hard, as I could not comprehend what had happened to him.
After a deep dive into the matter and a keen analysis of my brother, I found a culprit directly or indirectly responsible for all this: a smartphone.
In many homes across Jammu and Kashmir today, a familiar sight unfolds: a young child sitting in silence, their eyes glued to a luminous screen, scrolling or watching endlessly. That silence often feels like peace for many parents. But it may signal a far more profound and complex issue.
Children’s overuse of smartphones is frequently framed in terms of discipline or parenting. However, this problem is much larger than individual households. It also mirrors deeper changes in our education system, social environment, and even the very fabric of family structure in our society.
Scientific studies reveal alarming consequences:
– Children with high screen time were found to have reduced cognitive performance and lower physical activity levels (PubMed, 2023).
– An analysis of over 2.9 lakh children with high screen time suffered from anxiety, depression, aggression, and low self-esteem (Psychological Studies Review, 2022).
– Sleep patterns are severely affected; children are getting less and poorer quality sleep due to large-scale screen exposure (Sleep Medicine Reviews, 2021).
– Physical health is also impacted. Increased screen time is associated with obesity, high blood pressure, and vision problems such as myopia (Environmental Research Journal, 2018; The Guardian Health Study, 2025).
The real concern is not merely screen use, but how it is replacing play, family time, and real interaction—reshaping relationships in the process.
In Jammu and Kashmir, this transformation is particularly visible. Due to limited public spaces, harsh winters, and changing social structures, children have even fewer outlets for outdoor play. The traditional hub of activity—the mohallah playground, where children once played, and elders socialised—is dying out. In its place has come the smartphone, which has become both the easiest and most readily available alternative for children.
A largely unnoticed shift has also occurred. In the past, there was a clear separation between students and their smartphones. Schools did not integrate digital devices into their structure, and students submitted homework without the use of screens. That has now changed. Many schools use smartphones to send out assignments, notes, and updates. What was once an optional tool is now a requirement. This has made it difficult for both children and parents to set usage parameters, as the school system itself depends on constant access.
At the same time, we see an increase in enrolling children in tuition at very young ages, which further aggravates the issue. Young people who should be out in the world, seeing and experiencing life—activities that feed their natural curiosity—are instead placed into a rigid schedule of school, tuition, and excessive screen time.
My brother attends school from 8 a.m. to 5 p.m., including travel time. He then has to attend tuition from 5 p.m. to 7 p.m. And the struggle does not end there: he must complete homework assignments sent to our mother’s phone, during which he inevitably drifts into games and social media platforms. This leads to endless scrolling at night and eventually sleep deprivation. Since most of his day is spent in a structured, controlled environment, the smartphone becomes his only space for free time and interaction—because father is busy watching IPL and mother is focused on her serial. In this process, children are losing out on much more important things. They are missing a meaningful connection with their families.
We should remember: “Bachan hinz tarbiyat chi garan manz buniyad” (A child’s upbringing is founded in the home).
This is where a deeper social consequence begins to emerge. Kashmir has long been known for its strong family bonds, where elders were respected and cared for within the household. However, a gradual shift is visible today in the increasing presence of old-age homes. While economic and social factors play a role, one cannot ignore the emotional dimension. When children grow up disconnected from their parents, spending more time with screens than with family, the emotional foundation of these relationships becomes weak. Bonds that are not nurtured in childhood rarely become strong in adulthood. What we are witnessing today in the form of elderly isolation may very well be the long-term outcome of a childhood spent in digital distance. As the Kashmiri saying goes: “Yeth buzurg door, tas gharas chu soor” (When the elderly are kept away, their home becomes a wilderness).
The issue, therefore, is not just about children using smartphones. It is about the weakening of the very spaces that once shaped childhood and relationships. The mohallah is no longer a centre of play and interaction. The home is no longer a space of shared time. Even moral and spiritual guidance, once accessible through local darasgah (places of religious learning) and community interaction, is becoming distant in the everyday life of children.
The way forward requires more than simply asking children to reduce screen time. It requires rebuilding these lost spaces and connections.
– Mohallah committees have an important role to play. Ensuring that every mohallah has a functional playground is not just about recreation; it is about giving children a real alternative to screens—a place where they can build friendships, develop social skills, and stay away from harmful influences such as drug use, which has become an absolute menace.
– The role of darasgah and similar community spaces must be strengthened. These are not merely religious centres but also places where values, discipline, and a sense of belonging are cultivated. When children remain connected to such spaces, they develop a moral grounding that no digital content can provide.
– Within families, a shift in approach is equally necessary. Parents must reconsider the need for early tuition and instead invest their time in their children. Sitting with them, encouraging self-reading, and simply being present in their daily lives can rebuild the emotional connection that is currently being lost. Education at the early stage does not require multiple institutions; it requires attention, patience, and involvement.
Childhood is not meant to be lived through a screen. It is meant to be experienced through play in the mohallah, conversations at home, guidance from community spaces like the darazgah, and even the small talks of Amm kaak (maternal grandmother) and Ali mamm (paternal uncle). If these elements disappear, smartphones will not merely occupy children’s time; they will quietly reshape their relationships, their values, and eventually, the society we live in.
The responsibility to change this does not lie with children alone. It lies with all of us.
The writer is a student at Aligarh Muslim University
za********@***il.com