Beyond the Glass Towers: What Should Education Really Teach Us?

I don't quite know where to begin. Sometimes, a place leaves such a deep impression on your mind that you find yourself struggling to put your feelings into words. You arrive with curiosity and excitement, expecting to discover something new, but return with questions you had never anticipated asking. My recent visit to Gurgaon was one such experience. It was not the towering buildings, the modern infrastructure or the extraordinary pace of urban life that left me unsettled. It was something less visible, something that had little to do with the buildings themselves but much to do with the society taking shape around them.

Before my visit, I had heard a great deal about Gurgaon, particularly its celebrated Cyber City. Friends had spoken of its magnificent architecture, fashionable cafés, international brands and sophisticated atmosphere. During a short trip to Delhi, my neighbour's son invited me to visit him in Gurgaon. I was genuinely excited. Here was an opportunity to see a place I had heard so much about but had never experienced for myself. I imagined that I would return with pleasant memories and interesting stories to share.

I reached the room where he was living with one of his batchmates. Situated in a crowded lane, the accommodation was surrounded by the everyday bustle of a busy urban neighbourhood. Almost everything one might need was available along the roadside, from fresh vegetables and fruits to ready-to-eat food. The street was alive with movement, voices and the constant coming and going of people. There was something fascinating about its restless energy. It reminded me of a place that never sleeps.

By around nine in the evening, the lane was already vibrant, its activity spilling into every corner. My neighbour's son explained that the liveliness would continue well into the night and that the intensity often increased after midnight. As I walked along the street, I witnessed a variety of activities, some ordinary and some that made me uncomfortable. Gradually, my curiosity began to give way to a desire to return to the room.

But my host was keen that I should not miss Cyber City. He insisted that I accompany him there, reminding me that my friends had recommended the place for a reason. Eventually, I gave in. Despite my fading enthusiasm, a part of me remained curious to see what had made Cyber City so remarkable.

We moved along a road leading towards the vast commercial district, where the towering buildings began to dominate the skyline. As we approached, the surroundings seemed to undergo a transformation. The crowded, unassuming streets gave way to an expansive and meticulously planned urban landscape. The contrast was striking.

The buildings rose majestically above us, their broad glass façades reflecting the surrounding lights. Some appeared almost transparent, as though the inner spaces might be glimpsed through their enormous glass panels. The architecture had a sleek, contemporary elegance that made the structures seem less like ordinary office buildings and more like carefully crafted monuments to modern ambition.

Inside the complex, the broad lanes opened up into an impressive expanse of space. As I walked through them, I experienced a curious sensation: for a moment, it felt as though I were strolling through a foreign land. Everything seemed so different from the familiar surroundings I had left behind. The buildings, the pathways, the shops and the landscaped areas appeared to have been designed with extraordinary attention to detail.

The lighting added another dimension to the spectacle. The pathways glowed beneath carefully arranged lights; the ornamental plants were beautifully illuminated; the shopfronts shone with their own distinctive brilliance. Every corner seemed to have received its share of attention. The branded showrooms, souvenir shops, cafés and other establishments stood out against the illuminated surroundings, while the greenery softened the imposing concrete and glass.

The entire complex possessed an almost regal magnificence. Its broad avenues, sparkling façades and beautifully maintained landscaping created an atmosphere of luxury and refinement that I found difficult to describe in words. The place was not merely attractive; it was designed to impress. Everything appeared polished, organised and visually harmonious. Never before had I seen such an impressive concentration of modern architecture and urban landscaping. I found myself admiring the ingenuity and effort that must have gone into creating such a place.

Yet, as I continued walking, my attention gradually shifted from the surroundings to the people moving through them. The visitors appeared, for the most part, to be affluent professionals and people enjoying the comforts of a prosperous urban lifestyle. Luxury brands, fashionable cafés and a wide range of food and beverage outlets offered almost everything one could associate with contemporary consumer culture.

There was nothing inherently wrong with any of this. Indeed, the place represented many things that a developing country could take pride in: modern infrastructure, commercial growth, employment opportunities and an environment designed to attract investment and talent. I could understand why people admired Cyber City and why so many young professionals might aspire to work in such surroundings.

And yet, amid all this beauty and sophistication, one particular sight caught my attention and stayed with me.

I saw several young men and women drinking wine and smoking openly in the midst of the otherwise impressive surroundings. It was not the sight of a glass of wine or a cigarette alone that troubled me. Nor do I consider myself entitled to pass judgement on strangers whose personal circumstances and choices I do not know. What unsettled me was the larger question that arose in my mind about young people's health, their habits and the kind of guidance they receive while growing up.

Alcohol consumption and smoking carry well-established health risks, and the younger a person begins these habits, the greater the concern can be. Behind every young person is a life still unfolding, with ambitions to fulfil, responsibilities to shoulder and relationships to nurture. I could not help wondering whether enough attention was being given to the long-term consequences of such habits, particularly when so much emphasis is placed on professional success, financial independence and an attractive lifestyle.

I also wondered what their parents might think if they happened to see their sons and daughters drinking or smoking in such surroundings. Would they be comfortable with their choices? Would they see them as expressions of independence, or would they worry about the possible consequences? Of course, parents cannot control every decision their children make, especially once they begin living independently. Nevertheless, the thought stayed with me: how do we prepare our children to make responsible choices when they are no longer under our direct supervision?

That question led me to another, more fundamental one.

What is the true purpose of education?

We send our children to distant cities and prestigious institutions, sometimes even to foreign countries, hoping to give them opportunities that we ourselves may never have had. We invest our savings, sacrifice our comforts and place our hopes in their academic achievements. We want them to acquire valuable qualifications, secure good jobs, become financially independent and live with dignity. There is nothing wrong with these aspirations. In fact, parents have every reason to feel proud when their children succeed through hard work and determination.

But is professional success the only measure of a good education?

Should education prepare a young person merely to earn a handsome salary, occupy an impressive office and enjoy the privileges of a comfortable life? Or should it also help that person develop sound judgement, self-discipline, empathy, respect for others and an understanding of personal responsibility?

A degree can demonstrate knowledge and competence in a particular field. It cannot, by itself, guarantee wisdom, good judgement or a sense of responsibility. A person may excel academically and professionally while still struggling to make healthy choices or understand the consequences of certain actions. Equally, a young person who makes a poor decision should not automatically be regarded as a failure of education or upbringing. Human behaviour is influenced by many factors, including personal circumstances, social pressures, peer groups and individual choices.

Perhaps, then, the question is not whether modern education has deteriorated, but whether we have allowed one aspect of education to overshadow the others.

In our eagerness to prepare children for competitive examinations, demanding careers and a rapidly changing world, have we given sufficient importance to health awareness, emotional maturity, self-restraint and social responsibility? Do our educational institutions teach young people how to succeed without losing sight of their well-being? Do we encourage them to question harmful habits, resist unhealthy peer pressure and make thoughtful decisions even when nobody is watching?

These are not questions that can be answered simply by looking at a group of young people in a commercial district. My brief visit cannot tell me how they were educated, what values they hold or what kind of people they will become. It would be unfair to draw conclusions about an entire generation from a few observations. Yet, sometimes, an ordinary experience can prompt us to examine larger questions that deserve serious consideration.

Cyber City left me with two contrasting impressions. On the one hand, I was filled with admiration for its magnificent architecture, sparkling glass buildings, beautifully illuminated pathways and carefully maintained greenery. It represented a world of opportunity, enterprise and modern achievement. On the other hand, my observations prompted me to reflect on the responsibilities that accompany prosperity and independence.

Perhaps this is where the real conversation about education should begin. We should not have to choose between modernity and tradition, ambition and responsibility, or professional achievement and personal well-being. A progressive society should be capable of embracing scientific knowledge, technological advancement and economic growth while also encouraging healthy habits, mutual respect and thoughtful decision-making.

Our children do not need less ambition. They need the wisdom to direct that ambition towards a fulfilling and responsible life. They do not need to be shielded from every temptation or disagreement. They need the confidence and judgement to navigate a world in which choices are plentiful but consequences are real.

As parents, teachers and members of society, we must ask ourselves what we truly hope to give the next generation. Is it merely a collection of certificates, impressive job titles and financial security? Or is it the ability to lead a life that is successful without being careless, independent without being irresponsible, and modern without losing sight of human values?

For me, the visit to Cyber City became more than an opportunity to admire a remarkable urban landscape. It became an occasion to reflect on the kind of society we are building and the kind of people we hope our children will become.

The glass towers may reflect the brilliance of a modern city, but the real measure of progress lies beyond their glittering façades. It lies in the wisdom of its people, the responsibility they exercise and the values they carry into their everyday lives.

After all, education should not merely teach our children how to make a living. It should also help them understand how to live.