I was in Lonavla last weekend, a perfect monsoon escape — misty hills, rain showers dancing in and out. We sat at a cozy restaurant for lunch.
Few tables away, a young couple were trying to pacify their restless 2-year-old. The child refused food and was crying. After sometime, I realized the child has gone quiet.
He was staring at the phone screen: unblinking, still, consumed. His mother took the opportunity to feed him. He ate spoon after spoon, eyes locked on the screen. For the next 45 minutes that we were there, he didn’t flinch, didn’t look around — just kept staring at the screen.
At another table, a boy of 5 or 6, was trying to draw his father’s attention. He made faces, played with cutlery, even tried tapping his dad’s arm. But the father was busy — not in a conversation — just scrolling. His son gave up and sat silently, shoulders slumped.
I couldn’t help but reflect.
☑️ What are we modelling for our children?
Children learn not from what we say, but what we do. When they see our attention drawn endlessly to screens, they absorb the message: this is normal, or important.
I often hear parents lament, “My child is always on the phone.” But somewhere, have we shown them that this is acceptable? Even preferable to real engagement?
☑️ Why do we blame them later?
The child who’s pacified with a screen at 2 will soon seek it at 10. And perhaps demand it at 12. When we choose the easier route in early years, we may unintentionally be closing the door on play, imagination, conversation, connection.
Are we outsourcing the hard parts of parenting to technology?
☑️ Where is the balance?
Phones aren’t villains. They are powerful tools, wonderful sources of information, even entertainment. But it’s when they start replacing human connection that they begin to impact the way young minds grow.
So here’s what I left with:
>Children are constantly watching, absorbing, mirroring.
>Silence doesn’t mean peace — sometimes it’s disengagement.
>Presence matters. Especially in a world that constantly pulls us away.
Here’s a question for reflection: Is screen really the villain? Or are we barking up the wrong tree?
