Motaher Hossain
We now live in a changed world—one that is shaped and driven by knowledge, science, and technology. The present generation is undoubtedly a technology-dependent generation. In particular, young people from the age of five to thirty are the driving force of this transformed, tech-centered world.
Just two decades ago, children in our country used to spend their leisure time playing with spinning tops, marbles, slingshots, and traditional games like gollachut and ha-du-du. Today, children of the same age dream of flying planes or even building them. They grow up familiar with computers and mobile apps, and as they mature, many of them leave their mark through innovation—using technology to showcase their talent, skills, and creativity. From agriculture, education, health, communication, e-filing in administration, court management, climate response, and environmental research, to everyday life—this generation has become deeply connected with technology.
Technology has also brought about sweeping changes in family, social, and human relationships, as well as in values, customs, and behavior across the world. These shifts affect people of all ages. Yet, one truth must be remembered: our children are not solely ours. They belong not only to their parents but also to society and to a world shaped by nature and technology. Therefore, it is neither logical nor realistic to expect children to simply reflect the thoughts, values, and behavior of their parents.
Because of this shift, there is now a growing distance between parents and children. Today’s youth often feel misunderstood by their parents and elders, while parents complain that their children no longer respect or listen to them. Misunderstanding between generations is as old as humanity itself, but in the digital era, these conflicts have intensified. This distance sometimes escalates into serious clashes—even violence. We have seen such examples in our society.
At times, elders are seen as divine figures by the younger generation—sources of love, authority, and guidance. Yet, at other times, they appear as frightening, untrustworthy figures. Adults often forget that children see and understand everything, even if they do not always express it. In this hidden tension, humanity and social values are gradually being eroded. Bengali literature—from Rabindranath Tagore’s Chhuti to countless other stories and essays—has long depicted these generational conflicts and psychological struggles.
On this issue, Pope Francis, the supreme leader of the Christian faith, delivered his final Easter message shortly before his passing. His speech, read by an aide, emphasized: “Without respect for others’ opinions, true peace is impossible. Peace cannot exist without freedom of religion, freedom of thought, and freedom of expression.” This is a reminder that we, too, must show respect for others’ opinions—whether young or old—even if those opinions differ from ours. Dialogue and compromise are always better than conflict.
Recently, a play titled Guardians of the Gods was staged in Dhaka. In one rehearsal scene, two adult actors played the roles of children. Through their dialogue, the audience witnessed how children view the world of adults—sometimes with innocent joy, sometimes with sharp criticism, and sometimes with helpless confusion. Children interpret adults’ behavior with their own logic, which may be funny at times but is often deeply thought-provoking.
The play reminded audiences that children cannot always voice their pain or questions. Sometimes they remain silent, fearing that adults will not believe them—or worse, will not take them seriously. Yet, those unspoken words often hide injustices that could have been prevented if only they had been heard. Adults often act or speak in ways they consider “normal,” without realizing how those very actions may transform a child’s colorful world into black and white.
Playwright Erik Udenberg based Guardians of the Gods not on fiction but on real stories collected from children across different countries through interviews. Director Gustav Deinhofer explained: “This play does not speak for children; it brings their voices forward.” In the Bangladeshi version, actor Toufiqul Iman described his experience: “Being part of this play is not just acting—it feels like being part of a global movement.”
Since its world premiere in Turkey in May 2025, the play has been staged in 11 countries across five continents, performed in each country’s own language. Its message is both universal and deeply local. The play is not just art—it is a social intervention, reminding us how easily adults dismiss the voices of children.
There is an old Bangladeshi proverb: “A bad companion leads to ruin.” In other words, our character and destiny are shaped largely by the company we keep. Psychology, too, stresses that friendship is a crucial source of social support. But false or opportunistic friends can cause mental harm and loneliness. Across cultures and religions, we are taught to avoid harmful friendships, for true friends are revealed not in times of comfort but in times of crisis.
In reality, when people face hardship—whether financial struggles, illness, stress, or family crises—it is true friends who provide emotional support and practical help. A genuine friend not only consoles but also stands by you in hospitals, listens during emotional turmoil, and helps with small but meaningful acts during hard times. Those who disappear in times of difficulty cannot be considered true friends.
This is why both family and friends are central to human well-being. In today’s technological world, parents, guardians, and relatives must learn to understand the minds, desires, and needs of the younger generation. Most importantly, they must give children time, teach them values of humanity and morality from an early age, and respect their opinions. Only then can we reduce the conflict and distance between generations.
The writer is a Journalist & General Secretary, Bangladesh Climate Change Journalist Forum (BCCJF)