Suicides and the death of studentship
THESE days, a chronic anxiety has begun to confront me. Are we normalising student suicides, and taking it for granted that what goes on in the name of education and the associated race for ‘success’ must go on, even if some ‘weak’ and ‘emotionally vulnerable’ young minds end their lives in this process? Trust me, I have often tried to communicate with middle-class parents and even teachers that this sort of education destroys the very spirit of studentship and normalises societal neurosis. I have even tried to convince them through statistics: according to the National Crime Records Bureau’s 2021 report, there were 13,089 student suicides that year (at the rate of more than 35 every day). Yet, I experience a state of denial — almost the way we deny the harsh reality of the climate emergency in our times. Even though IITs have reported 33 student suicides from 2018 to 2023 and the NITs and IIMs have recorded 61 such cases, we prefer to remain silent or accept it as just an aberration. Likewise, our love affair with Kota — the notorious town in Rajasthan known for gigantic coaching factories that sell the dreams of ‘success’ — is becoming rather intense with every passing day, even though it recorded an average of three suicides every month from January to August this year.
The solidity of the ‘system’ cannot be altered without a movement for saving education.
Of course, I am aware of the structural and societal reasons for the prevalence of this life-negating race — say, the scarcity of jobs in this overpopulated country; the devaluation of liberal arts/humanities as far as job opportunities are concerned, and the resultant obsession with engineering, medical sciences, business management and other technical courses; the marketisation of life aspirations because of the neoliberal assault on culture and education; and above all, the acceptance of hyper-competitiveness or social Darwinism as a way of life in an unjust social order for sanctifying the doctrine of ‘meritocracy’, or the ‘survival of the fittest’. Yet, as we continue to see the way our children and young students are suffering, living with chronic stress, fear, anxiety and even suicidal tendencies, we cannot afford to remain silent and thereby normalise this sort of pathology.
As a teacher, I feel we must critique — without the slightest ambiguity — this sort of education and strive for new possibilities. The solidity of the ‘system’ cannot be altered without a movement for saving education. Of course, not everybody dies by suicide; but then, it is equally true that almost every young student who is part of this education system is growing up in an environment conducive to the growth of psychic stress, anxiety and obsessive fear of ‘failure’. Here is a system that is hardly interested in nurturing what really matters to lead a meaningful life — the ethics of love and cooperation; the ability to go through the ups and downs of our earthly existence through the art of perseverance and calmness; and the state of mindfulness that enables one to find the real treasure of life in simple things — say, seeing a butterfly playing with a tiny yellow flower, making a cup of tea for the old grandmother and sharing a moment of ecstasy with her, or just reading a novel on a winter night. Instead, it kills all noble aspirations and dreams; it transforms young minds into horses for a meaningless race.
From schools to coaching factories, we have reduced education to a mere strategy for ‘cracking’ all sorts of standardised tests. Real learning suffers as tests and exams become more important than the joy of reading great books, exploring innovative ideas, debating, arguing, reflecting and experimenting with science, literature and arts. What matters is the fetish of ‘efficiency’ and ‘speed’ — the ability to tick the ‘correct’ answer on the OMR sheet! No wonder, guide books that sell MCQ-centric exam strategies have begun to colonise the mental landscape of young learners. Yes, it is devoid of aesthetics, creativity and curiosity. It manufactures mechanised, standardised and regimented minds. The kind of ‘intelligence’ it values is purely instrumental; it has no creative imagination or philosophic wonder. You cannot expect a coaching centre strategist to inspire your child to watch the sunset, read a poem or appreciate a film by Satyajit Ray. These instructors can only ask your child to run faster, defeat others, reduce physics or mathematics to a mere entrance test material and equate his/her self-perception with the IIT-JEE or NEET ranking. In other words, this sort of education makes one culturally, psychologically and spiritually impoverished. It does not prepare one for life, its rhythmic curve or its deep existential queries.
Likewise, this sort of instrumental education is legitimising what Karl Marx once regarded as ‘commodity fetishism’. Yes, it assumes that our children ought to be trained in a way so that they emerge as commodities or ‘products’ with a price tag. Accept the harsh reality. The much-hyped IITs and IIMs — the ultimate salvation point that middle-class parents visualise for their children — hypnotise the young minds through the mythologies of ‘placements and salary packages’. If our children, far from being seen as unique and autonomous persons, are reduced to mere ‘investments’ or saleable commodities, we will continue to create a neurotic, anxiety-ridden and over-stressed generation. It will be impossible to curb the growing rate of suicides, even if the system allows yet another market of ‘motivational speakers’ and ‘self-help’ books to flourish.
As teachers, educationists and concerned citizens, we must be alarmed, raise our voice, say no to this life-killing education, create a new awareness and give yet another vision of life to our children — life-affirming and compassionate.
