Shifting Horizons: The Generational Dilemma

 

 

Growing up in the seventies and eighties in India felt remarkably similar no matter which state you came from or which language you spoke. Middle-class children across the country were raised with a shared set of values: discipline, respect for elders, and a firm belief in the power of education. Childhood meant simple pleasure, playing in the streets with friends, sharing meals with neighbours, and celebrating festivals with unrestrained joy.

Summer holidays were sacred pilgrimages to our grandparents’ homes. Mornings began with a glass of milk and a dose of advice: “Read the newspaper every day; it will improve your language and thought process,” our grandfathers would say. (I agree with them now, but back then I only wanted to rush off to play or sneak in a comic book—which, incidentally, was frowned upon.) Grandmothers would try to teach us cooking by explaining our favourite recipes, perhaps hoping we’d absorb their culinary wisdom.

Looking back, the gender bias is obvious. Girls were asked to speak softly, sit properly, and argue less. Not having a brother made me louder and more assertive in school, as if I had to defend myself. Yet, in the company of elders, I became the picture of obedience, eyes downcast, mind wandering into my stories.

Our news came from newspapers and the grapevine of telephone calls and tea parties. We were passive recipients, overhearing scandals and successes rather than actively scrolling for them.

Today, I marvel at how much has changed. Millennials, Gen Z, and now Gen Alpha live in an entirely different ecosystem. Letter writing is nearly extinct. Phone calls are rare. Newspaper reading? Almost gone. Communication now thrives through apps, messaging, shopping, gaming, meetings, each transforming language itself. “You” becomes “U,” “you’re” becoming “u’r.” As the younger generations say, “Not a big deal.” Perhaps they’re right.

News too has transformed. People get updates from apps or from irresistible reels crafted by professionals or simply by anyone with a smartphone. The fourth estate is no longer a single institution but millions of citizen journalists, each with their own lens. Yet this democratization is also dangerous, fake images, AI-generated videos, and political propaganda swirl together, convincing enough to deceive the untrained eye. Truth feels negotiable, and democracy can slip into the tyranny of a single narrative.

the truth is being twisted to suit the news. The fourth Estate has by and large been so corrupted that we have to stop believing our eyes and ears.

And yet, even in this fragmented digital landscape, we find comfort. In a world of remote work, fewer neighbours, and fading festivals, reels and short videos tell warm stories of resilience, mental health, and shared struggles. Strangers online can feel like kindred spirits.

The world—technical, economic, and social—is vastly different from what it was forty years ago. But human creativity persists. We adapt, innovate, and find meaning. So here’s a cheer for Gen Z and beyond. If I’m reborn as part of Gen F, I hope to witness an even more stupendous and brave new world.