India, July 30 -- Across India, there is a growing dissonance between the spirit of child protection laws and their real-world consequences, particularly when the setting of adolescent relationships is considered. The Protection of Children from Sexual Offences (POCSO) Act, enacted in 2012 to shield minors from sexual exploitation, sets the age of consent at 18. While this offers a clear safeguard in theory, it has often become a tool for families to penalise relationships that cross lines of caste, community, or gender norms. What began as a shield has, in many instances, turned into a sword. Romantic love is reframed as rape. Adolescence becomes another battleground for families to reassert control - often at the cost of the boy's future and the girl's agency. This legal rigidity ignores the rapidly changing world adolescents inhabit. Teenagers today grow up in a hyper-connected environment - exposed early to sexual content, peer influence, and evolving norms around intimacy. Public displays of affection no longer scandalise the urban middle class. Smartphones, dating apps, and social media shape adolescents' understanding of love and identity. Yet, our laws pretend that teenage desire does not exist - or worse, that it must be punished. The real issue lies in POCSO's failure to account for context. It makes no distinction between an exploitative relationship and a consensual one between two teenagers. A 17-year-old in love is treated the same as a 45-year-old predator. The fallout is harsh - boys branded as rapists face shattered futures, and girls lose their voice in decisions about their own bodies. Many countries have grappled with this complexity more pragmatically. Canada allows consensual sex at 16, or even 14-15 if the partner is within five years of age. Germany permits consensual sex from age 14, provided there's no coercion and the partner is under 21. These "close-in-age" exemptions protect against abuse while recognising adolescent sexuality as a part of growing up. At the other end are countries like Saudi Arabia and Pakistan, where all sex outside marriage is criminalised. While seemingly strict, such systems often leave girls grappling with increased vulnerability - trapped in child marriages with no protection against non-consensual marital sex. India stands at a contradictory crossroads. We criminalise all sex with those under 18 - even within marriage, post a landmark Supreme Court ruling in 2017. Yet, according to NFHS-5, over 23% of Indian women aged 20-24 were married before 18. These girls, often pushed into early marital sex, rarely find legal redress. The law steps in only when a girl elopes, not when she is quietly married off at 15. This contradiction reveals a deeper hypocrisy. Our laws are less about protecting children and more about preserving family honour. When girls choose partners outside accepted norms, the law becomes punitive. When families arrange early marriages, society looks away. This is the uncomfortable truth the current Supreme Court debate is beginning to confront. While the Centre defends the 18-year threshold, the Court has raised crucial questions: Should teenagers be jailed for exploring love? Could comprehensive sex education be a better response than prosecution? The answer lies not in lowering the age of consent indiscriminately, but in crafting a more nuanced legal framework. One that protects without criminalising, and recognises that teenage sexuality cannot be erased through denial or fear. Such a framework could include close-in-age exemptions for consensual relationships between 16-18-year-olds, judicial discretion to assess the nature and context of each case, mandatory sex education to empower young people with knowledge about consent, boundaries, and safety, unambiguous criminalisation of child marriage, with no exceptions for marital sex. Ultimately, this is not just a legal issue - it's a cultural reckoning. It forces us to confront our discomfort with adolescent agency, our refusal to talk openly about sex, and our tendency to confuse control with care. Laws alone cannot protect young people. True protection lies in equipping them to make informed choices. A just society does not fear its youth - it listens to them....