Are we smartphone gageteers addicted? Do we not realise we’re neglecting the companions sitting beside us just to be with the lines of text on our screen? I have just returned from my evening class—one that I cherish greatly—pondering, were we really all with each other tonight? Alhamdulilah, they’ve set a rule: turn off phones in class. But before class: eyes are glued to pieces of glass. Trying to make eye contact in order to exchange salams appears impossible. I accept we may all be shy and that the LED glow might be our refuge, but it is tiresome for those in search of community. No sooner has the lesson drawn to a halt for a half-time break, then those alluring screens are back. And so we never get to meet those we’re with, to know anything about the one who sits next to us, to learn how they are or how their day was, to discover if we have anything to learn from one another. For presumably Twitter calls, or a Facebook status needs updating, or someone, somewhere out there just needs to know you’re still there. What an age to live in: we’re more connected than ever before and yet so absolutely disconnected from each other.