Part 16 of 19 in Trust Yourself: A Guide for Indian Parents← Part 15Part 17 →
I’ve been observing something unsettling in both my clinic and my investment meetings. It’s not the patients or the founders themselves, but rather a silent presence that has started dictating the pace of our conversations: the screen. It’s not just a tool anymore; it’s someone else’s timetable, dictating the rhythm of our lives and, more worryingly, our children’s lives.
I saw a patient last week, a bright young woman who had come in for a routine consultation. As we spoke, her eyes kept darting to her phone, lighting up with notifications she couldn’t ignore. It struck me then that this isn’t just a personal habit; it’s a societal shift. The screen has become our constant companion, and not always a benign one. It’s a curated space, designed by others, that draws us in with its promises of connectivity and productivity, but often at the cost of our immediate reality.
In my experience, this is not just a phenomenon affecting adults. Children, too, are losing touch with the world around them. I remember a conversation with Shalini, a parent from Hyderabad, who confessed to me that her son could swipe on a tablet before he could even hold a spoon properly. At four, he was unable to engage in any activity without a screen. When Shalini decided to limit his screen time, she was met with resistance. But she persevered, and soon, her son was discovering the joy of banging steel glasses together to make music—a discovery he might have missed had he been absorbed in a coding app designed for preschoolers.
This is a testament to the fact that screens, while undeniably useful, have encroached on the space where curiosity should thrive. If a child cannot be interested when the screen is off, it means the screen has devoured the gap where imagination grows. You don’t have to abolish screens entirely to be a hands-on parent, but you do need to ensure that the screen doesn’t dictate your household’s rhythm. No phones at the dinner table, no tablets as babysitters, and no reliance on educational apps as proof of productive time spent. A child counting dabbas on the floor is engaging with the world in a way no app can replicate.
The same principles apply to adults. In the startup world, I’ve seen founders who live by the notifications on their phones, chasing the next big thing without pausing to think. They confuse motion with progress, much like a child might mistake endless swiping for play. But real innovation, real progress, happens in the gaps—those moments of unstructured thought that screens so effectively fill.
One of the most profound lessons I’ve learned from my work in IVF is the importance of patience and the ability to sit with uncertainty. In the same way, successful startups often emerge not from the frantic pursuit of the latest trend, but from the quiet, deliberate cultivation of an idea. It’s the space between notifications, the silence between meetings, where true creativity blossoms.
I am reminded of an investor meeting where I had to remind a founder of this very point. He was so consumed by his pitch deck, so focused on the metrics and the data on his screen, that he had lost sight of the story behind his startup. He was presenting numbers, but what I wanted was a narrative. It was only when he put his laptop aside and spoke from the heart that his vision truly came alive.
The screen, in this case, was a barrier to authentic connection, and I see this echoed in education as well. Our children are taught to learn from screens, but real learning happens in the messy, tactile interaction with the world. A founder’s journey, much like a child’s education, is not just about absorbing information but about engaging deeply with it and allowing it to transform into knowledge.
I’m not advocating for a return to the pre-digital age, nor am I suggesting that screens don’t have their place. But we must be vigilant about when and how they are used. As parents, as educators, and as investors, we must recognize the value of boredom, the necessity of silence, and the power of unstructured time. These are the spaces where innovation and creativity are born. They are the gaps that the screen cannot fill, the moments when we step away from someone else’s timetable and into our own.
In the end, it’s about balance. It’s about knowing when to engage and when to disconnect. It’s about trusting the dabbas on the floor over the apps on the screen, and knowing that sometimes, the most profound discoveries are made in the quiet moments we allow ourselves to have.
In my journey as an angel investor and IVF specialist, I’ve come to appreciate the value of these moments. Whether it’s a founder finding clarity in the silence of a paused pitch, or a child discovering music in the clatter of kitchenware, the lesson is the same. Trust the process, trust the gap, and trust yourself to know when to step away from the screen. That’s where the real growth happens.