In the race to meet deadlines, earn a living, and maintain appearances in today’s hyper-connected world, one quiet casualty is going unnoticed—the emotional well-being of our children.
Children are not just the future; they are the present—living, breathing reflections of our priorities and values. In Kashmir, where familial bonds have traditionally been strong and multigenerational households the norm, the slow erosion of quality parent-child interaction is both alarming and heartbreaking.
Our children, once nurtured by the wisdom of grandparents, the gentleness of mothers, and the discipline of fathers, are increasingly being raised by devices—phones, televisions, and tablets. In many homes, the language of love has been replaced by the language of materialism. We shower them with gifts but deprive them of time. We offer them toys but take away our attention.
Parental love has never been in question. But love without presence becomes noise—and noise is never enough for a child’s heart. Emotional connection, eye contact, gentle correction, and meaningful conversations—these are what shape a child’s inner world. When neglected, the child doesn’t just feel unloved—they feel unseen.
In Kashmir’s conflict-affected society, where psychological scars already run deep, our children deserve more than distraction. They deserve direction. They deserve our time. They deserve us more than anything else. With rising concerns about teenage mental health, substance abuse, and social alienation, it is urgent that we return to intentional parenting—where attention is not accidental, but sacred.
A child asks questions not to test your patience, but to build their understanding of the world. If you, as a parent, are not the first to answer those questions, someone else will—perhaps a peer, a screen, or an influencer. In that absence, the vacuum can be filled with misinformation, confusion, or rebellion.
It is also time to redefine discipline. A culture of fear, where a child flinches at a parent’s presence or hides their mistakes, breeds shame—not character. Kashmiri parenting must revive its traditional balance: a mix of softness and strength, where correction comes from care, and values are taught through consistent example.
The crisis is real. Children who don’t receive time from their parents often seek validation elsewhere. Some become addicted to virtual worlds, others to unhealthy peer approval, and some, tragically, to substances that numb their longing. Behind every troubled teenager, there is often a time-starved childhood.
On the other hand, both studies and simple human experience confirm that children who feel heard and loved grow up to be more secure, morally grounded, and mentally strong. Their academic performance improves, their social behavior becomes more balanced, and their confidence takes root.
Let’s be honest: parenting is exhausting. But it is also the most meaningful responsibility we carry. As a society, we must stop glorifying busyness and start romanticizing presence—sitting with your child, playing with them, listening without checking your phone every few seconds. These moments become memories, and eventually, the roots of trust.
We, as Kashmiris, pride ourselves on our hospitality and community values. Let’s not forget that the first community a child knows is their family. And the first home they build is in their parents’ hearts.
Let us not wait until our children are grown and gone to realize that what they needed most wasn’t our money or our advice—it was us, our time.
In a world that is always pulling us in a hundred directions, may we remember that the direction towards our children is always the right one.
Author Bio:
Ikkz Ikbal holds a Master’s degree in Biotechnology and serves as the Principal of Maryam Memorial Institute, Pandithpora Qaziabad. He shares his reflections on X @IkkzIkbal.