From classrooms to smartphones, the Valley’s young minds are caught between connection and collapse and society can no longer look away
DR YAWAR MUSHTAQ
In the last decade, social media has become the most powerful classroom in Kashmir; one without teachers, timetables, or rules. From Srinagar’s coaching hubs to remote hamlets in Kupwara and Shopian, students carry in their palms a world of endless videos, posts, and notifications. What began as a digital bridge to information and opportunity is steadily turning into an addiction, reshaping attention spans, sleep cycles, relationships, and even mental health.
Across India and the world, researchers are warning of a rise in social media dependence, especially among adolescents and young adults. Multiple studies have found a strong association between heavy social media use and symptoms of anxiety, depression, and poor academic performance.
While there is limited Kashmir-specific data, the signs in the Valley are hard to miss: students glued to screens late into the night, online classes minimized to the background while Instagram and Reels take centre stage, and a growing inability to sit with a textbook for even half an hour without reaching for the phone.
A new form of dependence
The word addiction is not used lightly. Psychologists describe social media addiction as a pattern where individuals feel compelled to use platforms repeatedly, experience restlessness when they cannot access them, and continue scrolling despite knowing the harm it causes.
What could have been a tool for catching up on lectures or educational material quickly slides into a cycle of entertainment and escapism. Over time, this daily excess rewires habits: the mind begins to crave constant stimulation, and the idea of focused, undistracted study starts to feel almost impossible.
Academic ambition vs endless distraction
Parents in the Valley invest heavily in their children’s education. Coaching centres for competitive exams are crowded, and expectations are high. Yet inside those same homes, smartphones have become the quiet saboteurs of academic discipline.
Teachers across Kashmir report common patterns: students unable to complete homework on time, reading comprehension declining, and a worrying fall in attention spans. A lesson of 40 minutes feels “too long” to students who are used to consuming information in 30-second videos.
Even while preparing for board or entrance exams, many students keep their phones beside them, checking WhatsApp, Snapchat or Instagram every few minutes. This fragmented attention leads to shallow learning, poor retention, and mounting stress as exams approach.
Global research supports this local experience. Studies link excessive screen time and multitasking with lower grades and poorer cognitive performance. For Kashmiri students, already preparing in a climate of uncertainty, this additional layer of digital distraction may be widening the gap between effort and outcome.
Mental health under silent pressure
Beyond academics, the psychological impact is equally concerning. Adolescence is a time of identity formation, and social media presents a carefully edited world of beauty, success, and perfection. Young people in Kashmir, like elsewhere, compare their lives to these curated images—only, in their case, this often happens against a backdrop of political tension, economic constraints, and restricted mobility.
This contrast can deepen feelings of inadequacy and frustration. The constant stream of images from other parts of the country or world, people travelling freely, attending events, working in thriving industries can feed a sense of exclusion. For some, it causes motivation to work harder; for many others, it deepens despair and a sense of being left behind.
Then there is the darker side of online life: trolling, cyberbullying, hate speech, and misinformation. Students, often without guidance on digital ethics or resilience, may internalize harsh comments, body shaming, or online humiliation. Linked with existing social stigma around discussing mental health in the Valley, this can push vulnerable youth towards isolation, anxiety, or even self-harm.
Family, faith, and community losing ground
Traditionally, Kashmiri society has drawn strength from close-knit families, neighbourhood camaraderie, and deep-rooted cultural and spiritual practices. Evening gatherings, storytelling, and conversations with elders formed an informal but powerful school of life.
Today, many of those spaces are being quietly displaced by the glow of small screens. Family meals are interrupted by notifications; conversations with parents are replaced by headphones; visits to local playgrounds and masjids compete with gaming apps and late-night scrolling. Over time, this erodes not only academic discipline but the very social fabric that once helped young people cope with stress and uncertainty.
When students seek validation more from “likes” than from real relationships, when their moods are governed by who viewed their story or commented on their post, we are witnessing a subtle but profound shift in values and identity.
What can be done?
It is neither realistic nor desirable to demand a complete break from social media. Digital tools, when used wisely, remain powerful enablers of learning, networking, and expression. The task before Kashmiri society is not to wage war against technology, but to reclaim control over how it is used.
Several steps are urgently needed:
Digital literacy in schools and colleges: Institutions across the Valley must treat digital literacy and online safety as essential subjects. Students need to understand how algorithms are designed to keep them hooked, how to verify information, and how to set boundaries.
Parental involvement and modelling: Parents cannot simply hand over smartphones and hope for the best. They must set house rules for screen time, keep phones out of bedrooms at night, and, crucially, model healthy behaviour themselves. A parent perpetually on WhatsApp cannot realistically ask a teenager to log off.
Counselling and mental health support: Schools, colleges, and coaching centres should facilitate access to counsellors who are trained to deal with digital addiction and its psychological fallout. Awareness programmes in local languages, backed by religious leaders and community elders, can reduce stigma around seeking help.
Promotion of offline spaces and activities: Sports, arts, debating clubs, reading circles, and volunteering opportunities offer students a sense of achievement and belonging that no number of likes can replace. Public and private initiatives should invest in such spaces, particularly in rural and conflict-affected areas.
Policy and platform responsibility: While local action is vital, big tech platforms must also be pushed—through regulation and public pressure—to make their apps less addictive and more transparent. Features such as default screen-time reminders, age-appropriate content filters, and stricter controls on harmful material are long overdue.
A collective responsibility
The question facing the Kashmir Valley is not whether students will use social media; they already do, and will continue to do so. The real question is whether society will allow an unregulated digital world to quietly shape the next generation’s minds, values, and futures.
If we continue to look away, we may soon find that our most precious resource, i.e., our youth, are physically present in our homes and classrooms, but mentally lost in an endless scroll. It is time for parents, teachers, policymakers, and the students themselves to acknowledge social media addiction as a serious challenge and to respond with wisdom, empathy, and urgency. The future of education and of Kashmir’s young minds may depend on it.
(The Author is a lecturer, columnist and public speaker)