In many homes across Goa today, the mobile phone has quietly become the quickest pacifier. A toddler cries in a bus from Margao to Panaji. A child refuses to eat at the dining table. A restless youngster grows impatient during a family visit. Silence follows the moment a phone is placed in small hands. What appears to be a harmless solution, even a necessary convenience, is in fact reshaping childhood in ways we are only beginning to understand.
Early exposure
From apartment complexes in Porvorim to village homes in Assolna, children are growing up with screens long before they develop the emotional maturity to process what they see. Childhood, once shaped by outdoor play, neighbourhood friendships, long conversations with elders, and the freedom to be bored, is increasingly mediated by constant stimulation.
Classroom signals
A primary school teacher in South Goa recently shared an observation that should give us pause. During a simple storytelling session in class, several children struggled to follow a short narrative without interruption. One child repeatedly asked how long the story would last. Another lost interest midway and stared blankly ahead, as though waiting for something faster to replace it. The ability to listen, imagine, and stay mentally present seemed to be slipping away.
After school
When asked what they preferred doing after school, many children spoke of watching videos on their parents’ phones rather than playing outdoors. One nine-year-old admitted softly that she felt angry when the phone was taken away. These were not neglected children. They came from stable homes, from families that cared deeply. Yet their minds appeared overstimulated, restless, and unable to settle into quieter forms of engagement.
At home
A parent from Margao described a similar experience. She said that she had initially given her son a phone only to keep him occupied while she cooked or managed household work. Over time, however, she noticed that removing the phone resulted in irritation, mood swings, and emotional outbursts. She confessed that she never imagined such a small device could control the atmosphere of her home so completely.
Normalised screens
These scenes are no longer unusual. They are increasingly accepted as part of daily life. A six-year-old scrolling through reels while eating lunch. A ten-year-old gaming late into the night with headphones on. A teenager measuring self-worth through likes, comments, and online validation. What once might have alarmed us now barely registers as cause for concern.
Shrinking attention
Teachers across Goa report declining attention spans and difficulty sustaining focus in classrooms. Parents speak of disturbed sleep patterns, sudden anger and withdrawal. Counsellors note a rise in anxiety among children who struggle to articulate what troubles them. Many acknowledge they feel bored, restless, or unhappy when separated from a screen.
Unfiltered content
Unlike earlier generations, today’s Goan child is exposed to unfiltered global content at an unprecedented scale. Often, parents themselves may not fully understand what their children are consuming, especially when content appears in unfamiliar languages or formats. What begins as educational screen time quietly turns into compulsive consumption.
Stark warning
Recent incidents elsewhere in the country remind us that the consequences can be grave. In Uttar Pradesh, three minor sisters died by suicide after becoming deeply absorbed in an online fantasy world. Investigations are ongoing and it would be irresponsible to reduce the tragedy to a single cause. Yet the incident serves as a stark warning of what can happen when young minds form emotional attachments to virtual worlds that replace real relationships, routine, and grounding. Goa may seem distant from such tragedies, but our children watch the same screens and are exposed to the same pressures. Geography offers no protection in a digital world.
Parental strain
Many parents in Goa already balance long working hours, household responsibilities, and academic expectations placed on their children. Constant digital supervision is neither practical nor realistic. Children, on the other hand, adapt quickly. Parental controls are easily bypassed. Boundaries blur. What we are witnessing is no longer simply a matter of discipline. It is a question of mental health, emotional development, and social wellbeing.
Policy response
Some countries have begun to acknowledge this reality. Australia, for instance, has moved towards age based restrictions on social media access, recognising that children require protection in the digital space just as they do in the physical world. Such measures are not about punishment. They are about safeguarding emotional development during formative years.
Local conversation
India, and Goa in particular, must begin a similar conversation rooted in our social realities. This could mean discouraging personal smartphone ownership below a certain age, promoting devices with limited and child safe functionality, and strengthening age verification on digital platforms. Schools in Goa could integrate digital well-being into their curriculum, teaching children not only how to use technology, but when to step away from it.
Shared responsibility
Families and communities also have an essential role to play. Shared devices, fixed screen time routines, and phone free spaces within the home can restore balance. Encouraging outdoor play, participation in sports, music, reading, and simple conversation may seem ordinary, but they remain vital for healthy emotional growth. Goa, with its natural spaces, village culture, and strong community life, has much to offer children if we allow them to engage with it fully.
Reclaiming childhood
Goa has long valued childhood as a protected space, shaped by family, faith, culture, and community. The mobile phone is a powerful invention. In adult hands, it is a tool. In a child’s hands, without boundaries, it can quietly become a burden.
Technology is here to stay. That is no longer the question. The question we must ask ourselves, as parents, educators, and as a society in Goa, is whether we are willing to set thoughtful limits in order to protect the emotional well-being of our children. Do we want digitally occupied children, or emotionally resilient adults? This is not a rejection of technology. It is about reclaiming childhood.
(The writer is an advocate by profession and a YouTuber by passion, with a deep concern for the well-being of coming generations.)
