Dolls lost in screen glow
In the narrow streets of Multan, once alive with the laughter of little girls playing with dolls dressed in hand-stitched frocks, a quiet transformation has taken hold. The familiar scene of daughters combing their dolls' hair or arranging miniature weddings has nearly vanished, replaced by the blue glow of mobile screens.
Games and toys have long been central to the story of childhood, shaping how societies imagine innocence, creativity, and gender. But as digital devices invade every corner of life, they are subtly rewriting those definitions.
Across South Punjab, parents are noticing the change — and many aren't happy about it. For generations, dolls were not just playthings but companions — tiny confidantes that taught empathy, affection, and the first lessons in care.
Mothers once stitched miniature clothes, teaching patience and imagination through needle and thread. Now, those little acts of love are being replaced by finger swipes and video streams. Sociologist Muhammad Imran calls it "a loss of emotional language."
Imran says technology's convenience has come at a hidden cost. "The doll culture was a reflection of innocence and imagination. Now, children are more isolated and emotionally detached due to excessive screen time."
That concern feels deeply personal to Madeeha, a mother from Multan whose eight-year-old daughter no longer plays with dolls. "Every day after school, she just wants the mobile phone," Madeeha says. "It worries me because this habit is taking away her time for creative play and real interaction. She's quieter now, more absorbed in her screen than in people."
Psychologist Sehar Shahzadi agrees that the shift could carry long-term consequences. "When children spend more time on screens, they lose touch with real-world communication," she says. "It limits imagination, reduces socialisation, and even affects sleep and attention span. Dolls help children express emotion, build empathy, and understand relationships — things mobile games cannot replicate."
Her colleague, psychologist Khizra Sohail, describes the disappearance of dolls as the fading of a "beautiful and meaningful tradition". "Playing with dolls helped children organise pretend weddings, invite friends, and manage small home settings," she explains. "It nurtured cooperation, responsibility, and social behaviour. That kind of unstructured, imaginative play is now at risk."
Across Pakistan, parents are confronting this new dilemma: whether to embrace the convenience of digital entertainment or to fight for the old rhythms of play. For many, the battle already feels lost.
But the issue is hardly limited to Pakistan. In 2022, researchers in the United Kingdom explored what children gain — and lose — when dolls disappear. The study, published in Developmental Science and funded by the makers of Barbie, found that children who played with dolls talked more about others' thoughts and emotions than those who played creative games on tablets.
Dr Sarah Gerson, a neuroscientist at Cardiff University who led the research, said that when children create imaginary worlds and role-play with dolls, they practise empathy in real time. "They communicate at first out loud and then internalise messages about others' thoughts and feelings," she said. "This can have lasting effects — strengthening social and emotional processing and helping children form habits of empathy."
The study observed 33 children aged four to eight, who were given dolls and accessories such as an ambulance or a horse, while researchers tracked their brain activity using a form of imaging technology called functional near-infrared spectroscopy. It found that children engaged in more "internal state language" — talking about emotions and intentions — when playing with dolls compared with digital games.
"They were more likely to talk to the dolls directly, while referring to on-screen characters in the third person," Gerson noted. "That suggests a deeper level of emotional connection and social imagination during physical play."
Benjamin Mardell, a researcher at Harvard's Graduate School of Education, said the study confirmed what educators have long believed: that imaginative play helps children take the perspective of others. "It's reasonable to think that dolls or any object a child invests with a sense of 'otherness' — even a stuffed toy or imaginary friend — can support emotional growth," he observed.
In Multan, however, that kind of role-playing is rapidly being replaced. Experts believe the social consequences will take years to measure. They point out that when girls played house or hosted pretend weddings, they were learning social scripts — how to cooperate, resolve conflict, and nurture. Modern games, they argue, lack that depth. "A digital game rewards quick reactions, not empathy. It entertains, but it doesn't teach children to care."
Sociologists see the change as part of a larger transformation. Technology, they explain, has blurred the boundaries between childhood and adulthood. Earlier, toys reflected a child's world — simple, imaginative, slow. Now, digital content introduces them to a fast-paced, consumer-driven version of reality before they're ready.
Experts also warn of a cultural cost. Dolls once served as quiet archives of tradition — miniature carriers of regional aesthetics and family rituals. In many South Punjab homes, mothers sewed shalwar kameez for their daughters' dolls, passing down skills and stories through play. With that practice vanishing, so too are subtle lessons in creativity and cultural continuity.
Even as parents like Madeeha try to limit screen time, the pull of the digital world is hard to resist. Mobile phones are now embedded in daily life — tools for study, communication, and distraction.
Studies in the West echo those emotions, suggesting that the loss of hands-on play affects how children develop social empathy. "These skills are crucial for forming friendships, learning from teachers, and understanding other people," Dr Gerson said. "When they fade, something fundamental about childhood fades with them."
In Pakistan, the debate is only beginning. Parents, teachers, and psychologists are asking whether digital childhoods will produce adults less capable of emotional connection. Some call for awareness campaigns and community workshops to revive traditional play, while others believe new, hybrid forms of play — combining storytelling and technology — might bridge the gap.
For now, though, the dolls remain mostly silent. In homes across Multan and beyond, they sit forgotten in drawers, their tiny stitched dresses gathering dust — relics of a gentler age when childhood was tactile, social, and alive with imagination.
And as screens continue to glow late into the night, one can only wonder whether the next generation will ever rediscover the quiet magic of play that once came wrapped in cloth and thread.