The suicide of another student in Kota—this is not ordinary news, nor merely the personal tragedy of a single family. It raises serious questions about the education system, social mindset, and the so-called “success model” that we have unquestioningly accepted over the past two decades. The suicide note of student Kriti, who committed suicide, is not merely a document of personal anguish, but an indictment of our entire society—parents, coaching institutes, schools, and policymakers all fall under its purview.
In her suicide note, Kriti appealed to the Indian government and the Ministry of Human Resources, stating that if they truly wanted to ensure no children died, coaching institutes should be shut down as soon as possible, as these institutions leave students hollow from within. This statement wasn’t the result of a momentary impulse, but rather an expression of the long-standing mental torture that millions of students endure daily. The real question isn’t why Kriti wrote this, but whether she was wrong.
Today, coaching in India is no longer a means of education, but has become a massive, profit-driven industry. Cities like Kota, Sikar, Hyderabad, Delhi, and Patna are called “education hubs,” where millions of teenagers arrive each year carrying the burden of their parents’ dreams. At the center of these dreams are a few narrow words—IIT, AIIMS, NEET, rank, and selection. Coaching institutes convince students that if they don’t get selected, they are failures. This definition of success is so narrow that it leaves no room for the average student, and there’s no human process for recovery from failure.
Kriti’s statement that “even a girl who scores 90+ can commit suicide” shatters our myth that mental distress is limited to weak or unsuccessful students. This thinking is not only wrong but also dangerous. Today, the pressure is no longer just about passing exams or getting good marks, but about meeting the expectations of parents, teachers, and society. Every child carries within themselves an imaginary image of the “perfect student,” which they constantly lose. Even high marks and excellent performance no longer guarantee mental peace, because the problem isn’t the studies themselves, but the environment in which they are taught.
The lines Kriti writes for her mother reveal the root of this entire crisis. She explains that she was forced to choose science, even though her true interests lay in English literature and history. This story isn’t limited to one household. It’s the reality of thousands, if not millions, of homes across the country, where societal expectations matter more than a child’s interests. Parents often forget that a child is not an extension of their unfulfilled ambitions, but an independent individual. Social comparison—that so-and-so’s son became a doctor or that so-and-so’s daughter made it to IIT—blinds us so much that we overlook our children’s desires, abilities, and limitations.
Kriti’s warning to her younger sister makes this suicide note even more poignant. She wants her sister to be allowed to study what she wants to study and become what she wants to be. Ironically, even as she dies, she’s trying to save someone else’s life. This warning isn’t just for a mother, but for society as a whole, which imposes its dreams on children instead of listening to them.
Today’s schools and coaching institutes teach children mathematical formulas, chemical equations, and competitive exam strategies, but they are completely failing to impart life’s most important lessons. They fail to teach children how to deal with failure, how to understand mental stress, and that asking for help is not a weakness. Competition has been transformed into a tool of fear rather than inspiration. Rank lists, mock tests, and constant comparisons instill a lasting inferiority complex in children, causing them to view themselves only through the lens of marks and selection.
Each such death is followed by a formal government statement, an investigation ordered, and a few days of debate. After that, everything returns to normal. Coaching institutes are not strictly monitored, their hours are limited, and mental health is not made a compulsory part of education. If the government is truly serious, it must develop a robust policy to ensure strict regulation of the coaching industry, accessible mental health support for students, and a diverse range of career opportunities at the school level.
The biggest question is how we define success. Isn’t success about being a good person, staying mentally healthy, and living a fulfilling life in one’s field of interest? If not, then we are creating a generation that will be selected, but broken and dissatisfied from within. Kriti’s death forces us to wonder if we are killing our children while they are still alive—their desires, their dreams, and their freedom.
Kriti’s suicide note is not just a student’s final statement, but a societal warning. If we don’t listen, understand, and change now, such incidents will never stop. The question isn’t who will be next. The real question is whether we will be able to save the next child.
