Youngsters are not taking all their lessons in life from TV or

“Youngsters are not taking all their lessons in life from TV or films. They are exposed to all kinds of content on their phones, computers etc., thanks to Internet.” – Sargun Mehta

In these words of Sargun Mehta, we hear the clear voice of a generation standing at the edge of transformation. Her words are not mere observation—they are warning and wonder entwined. Once, the young learned their stories from elders, from the hearth, and from the sacred rhythm of living things. Later, they learned from television and cinema, where imagination was guided by artists and storytellers. But now, a new fire burns—a fire that dances through invisible wires and screens. The Internet, vast and unbridled, has become both teacher and trickster, blessing and burden. Through it, the youth drink from a spring that is infinite, but not always pure.

In ancient times, the wise said that to shape the mind of the young is to shape the destiny of the world. For the young are clay—soft, impressionable, full of power waiting for form. Once, that clay was molded by family, by teachers, by the shared stories of a people. Then came the flickering screen, the TV that whispered dreams of heroes and villains. But those tales, though crafted for commerce, still bore the human touch. They were filtered through the heart of creators, and so they carried emotion, story, and meaning. Now, in the age of the computer and phone, there are no longer gatekeepers. The stream of content flows ceaselessly, and every wave carries a new lesson—some of gold, others of shadow.

It is here that Mehta’s insight gleams with quiet truth. She reminds us that youngsters today are no longer taught by a single voice but by a chorus of millions—each one clamoring to be heard. This is both a miracle and a peril. For in the garden of knowledge, weeds grow beside flowers. The Internet has given youth access to the wisdom of all ages, but also the noise of all confusion. They can see the suffering of a distant land and learn compassion—or fall into the endless labyrinth of vanity and deceit. The screen glows, but not all that glows is light.

Let us recall the story of Socrates, who warned the people of Athens that the new invention of writing would weaken their memory and dull their wisdom. To him, written words were lifeless, unable to answer or question, unlike the living dialogue between teacher and student. Yet from that same invention came the preservation of his very wisdom. So too, the Internet, though feared by some, holds the same paradox—it can erode, but also elevate. It depends not on the tool itself, but on the heart that wields it.

In our time, the challenge is no longer to find knowledge, but to discern truth. The Internet pours forth lessons every moment, shaping the minds of the young as rivers carve the earth. Some learn to build, to heal, to create beauty. Others are swept into currents of illusion and greed. The difference lies in guidance—the unseen hand that helps the young choose wisely. Just as a sailor studies the stars before venturing into the open sea, the youth must learn to navigate the tides of information, not drift aimlessly among them.

And so, parents, teachers, and elders must rise anew as guardians of wisdom. It is not enough to warn; one must also walk beside. Teach the young to question what they see, to test what they hear, to seek meaning beneath the surface. Let them use their phones and computers not as masters but as servants of purpose. Help them understand that knowledge without conscience is like a sword in untrained hands—it can protect, but it can also wound.

Sargun Mehta’s words, then, are not lament but awakening. They tell us that the age of passive learning has ended. The child of today stands before a vast mirror of humanity, where every reflection teaches something new. It is our duty to help them see clearly—to teach them discernment, empathy, and truth. The Internet is not evil, nor divine—it is a mirror of our own souls. What we place upon it, the young will inherit.

Therefore, let the lesson be this: do not fear the tools of your age—guide them. Let every parent become a storyteller again, every teacher a guardian of wisdom, every youth a seeker of light. For when the heart leads the hand that holds the device, even the endless noise of the Internet can become a song of understanding. And when that happens, the words of Sargun Mehta shall no longer be warning—they shall be prophecy fulfilled.