<p class="bodytext">The recent suicide of a NEET aspirant casts yet another grim shadow on our collective conscience. A young life, full of potential, lost to a system that offers little support. As with many before, outrage flared online, hashtags trended, opinions flooded in—and then silence returned. </p>.<p class="bodytext">This is far from an isolated headline. India is witnessing a disturbing rise in youth suicides, particularly among students. More alarming than the numbers is our growing indifference. With every scroll, even death fades into background noise. According to the National Crime Records Bureau (NCRB), over 13,000 student suicides were reported in 2022—7.6% of all suicides that year. Over 2,200 were directly linked to exam failure. These are not just statistics; they are stories of young people who saw no way out. </p>.<p class="bodytext">In one recent case, a newlywed woman drove to a remote location and ended her life after leaving clear instructions about her possessions. In another, a 19-year-old from Delhi left a suicide note and travelled far from home before ending her life. These were not impulsive acts. They were meticulously planned, shaped by sleepless nights and internal battles. When a teenager stands at the edge of suicide, it is rarely due to a single setback. It is the culmination of prolonged emotional anguish, worsened by a culture that allows little room for failure or vulnerability.</p>.<p class="bodytext">The rigidity of our systems—schools, families, society—often drives already distressed individuals to the brink. A common thread runs through many of these deaths: emotional stuckness. It is a state of cognitive and emotional freeze where a person sees no way forward. </p>.<p class="bodytext">They are stuck, not physically but mentally, caught in a pseudo-perception that happiness, success, and freedom depend solely on external circumstances. Their thinking becomes binary: success or death. In a society where failure is shameful and mental illness is poorly understood, this mindset can be fatal.</p>.<p class="bodytext">These rigid mental patterns are shaped by several forces: overpowering parental aspirations, relentless peer pressure, hyper-competitive institutions, and a cultural obsession with success. For teens, a momentary failure often feels like a permanent flaw.</p>.<p class="bodytext">This crisis is compounded by an insidious change in our social fabric. Where India once valued communal identity and mutual support, we are increasingly moving towards a performance-based, neoliberal, individualist culture, fuelled by social media and consumerism. Yet, our innate desire for belonging—for a community to hold us during adversity—remains unmet. The result is a generation that feels isolated, disconnected, and unable to find help when drowning in despair. </p>.<p class="bodytext">A collectivist society can act as “suicide counters”—offering buffers like economic security, religious or spiritual beliefs, family support, community integration, and ethical principles. These forces can dissuade someone from ending their life. But when these buffers are weakened or absent, as they increasingly are in contemporary urban living, many are left dangerously exposed. </p>.<p class="bodytext">In response to this crisis, the Supreme Court of India, on July 26, issued 15 interim guidelines in Sukdeb Saha vs State of Andhra Pradesh. Citing a “systemic failure” in the education system, the Court directed schools and coaching centres nationwide to implement measures like appointing mental health counsellors, training teachers to spot distress, setting up grievance redressal mechanisms, and conducting regular mental health workshops.</p>.<p class="bodytext">While these steps are overdue, real change requires more than policy. We need a cultural shift—one that redefines success, values emotional well-being, and encourages empathy over silence. Families must listen without judgement, teachers must recognise warning signs, and society must ensure that vulnerability is met with support, not stigma. </p>.<p class="bodytext">Our growing desensitisation to youth suicide signals a deep societal decay. Each loss should shake us, enrage us, and move us to act, but instead, we scroll past. And with every scroll, the unthinkable becomes normalised. These young lives aren’t lost to failure; they’re lost to a world that leaves no space for vulnerability. A system that prizes marks over mental health, ranks over relationships, and outcomes over well-being. A conscious effort to move away from this vicious mindset and false propaganda of an individualistic society as a path to a progressive society must be consumed with a pinch of salt. Suicides are not acts of self-harm committed by an individual but rather a result of the larger society. With every life lost, we move closer to the crisis period as a society.</p>.<p class="bodytext"><span class="italic"><em>(The writer is pursuing a master’s degree in clinical psychology at Christ Deemed to be University)</em></span></p>
<p class="bodytext">The recent suicide of a NEET aspirant casts yet another grim shadow on our collective conscience. A young life, full of potential, lost to a system that offers little support. As with many before, outrage flared online, hashtags trended, opinions flooded in—and then silence returned. </p>.<p class="bodytext">This is far from an isolated headline. India is witnessing a disturbing rise in youth suicides, particularly among students. More alarming than the numbers is our growing indifference. With every scroll, even death fades into background noise. According to the National Crime Records Bureau (NCRB), over 13,000 student suicides were reported in 2022—7.6% of all suicides that year. Over 2,200 were directly linked to exam failure. These are not just statistics; they are stories of young people who saw no way out. </p>.<p class="bodytext">In one recent case, a newlywed woman drove to a remote location and ended her life after leaving clear instructions about her possessions. In another, a 19-year-old from Delhi left a suicide note and travelled far from home before ending her life. These were not impulsive acts. They were meticulously planned, shaped by sleepless nights and internal battles. When a teenager stands at the edge of suicide, it is rarely due to a single setback. It is the culmination of prolonged emotional anguish, worsened by a culture that allows little room for failure or vulnerability.</p>.<p class="bodytext">The rigidity of our systems—schools, families, society—often drives already distressed individuals to the brink. A common thread runs through many of these deaths: emotional stuckness. It is a state of cognitive and emotional freeze where a person sees no way forward. </p>.<p class="bodytext">They are stuck, not physically but mentally, caught in a pseudo-perception that happiness, success, and freedom depend solely on external circumstances. Their thinking becomes binary: success or death. In a society where failure is shameful and mental illness is poorly understood, this mindset can be fatal.</p>.<p class="bodytext">These rigid mental patterns are shaped by several forces: overpowering parental aspirations, relentless peer pressure, hyper-competitive institutions, and a cultural obsession with success. For teens, a momentary failure often feels like a permanent flaw.</p>.<p class="bodytext">This crisis is compounded by an insidious change in our social fabric. Where India once valued communal identity and mutual support, we are increasingly moving towards a performance-based, neoliberal, individualist culture, fuelled by social media and consumerism. Yet, our innate desire for belonging—for a community to hold us during adversity—remains unmet. The result is a generation that feels isolated, disconnected, and unable to find help when drowning in despair. </p>.<p class="bodytext">A collectivist society can act as “suicide counters”—offering buffers like economic security, religious or spiritual beliefs, family support, community integration, and ethical principles. These forces can dissuade someone from ending their life. But when these buffers are weakened or absent, as they increasingly are in contemporary urban living, many are left dangerously exposed. </p>.<p class="bodytext">In response to this crisis, the Supreme Court of India, on July 26, issued 15 interim guidelines in Sukdeb Saha vs State of Andhra Pradesh. Citing a “systemic failure” in the education system, the Court directed schools and coaching centres nationwide to implement measures like appointing mental health counsellors, training teachers to spot distress, setting up grievance redressal mechanisms, and conducting regular mental health workshops.</p>.<p class="bodytext">While these steps are overdue, real change requires more than policy. We need a cultural shift—one that redefines success, values emotional well-being, and encourages empathy over silence. Families must listen without judgement, teachers must recognise warning signs, and society must ensure that vulnerability is met with support, not stigma. </p>.<p class="bodytext">Our growing desensitisation to youth suicide signals a deep societal decay. Each loss should shake us, enrage us, and move us to act, but instead, we scroll past. And with every scroll, the unthinkable becomes normalised. These young lives aren’t lost to failure; they’re lost to a world that leaves no space for vulnerability. A system that prizes marks over mental health, ranks over relationships, and outcomes over well-being. A conscious effort to move away from this vicious mindset and false propaganda of an individualistic society as a path to a progressive society must be consumed with a pinch of salt. Suicides are not acts of self-harm committed by an individual but rather a result of the larger society. With every life lost, we move closer to the crisis period as a society.</p>.<p class="bodytext"><span class="italic"><em>(The writer is pursuing a master’s degree in clinical psychology at Christ Deemed to be University)</em></span></p>