Rising student suicides in India are a sign of a deeper social and mental health crisis. The Mental Health Act (2017) and the Suicide Prevention Policy (2021) provide a legal framework, but their impact has been limited. Lack of awareness, a lack of counseling infrastructure, and parental expectations are pushing students toward depression. What’s needed now is emotional education, trained counselors, digital support, and family empathy. Until society understands that every child’s path to success is different, even laws will be ineffective.
It’s a shameful truth for a young country like India that thousands of students take their own lives every year under the pressure of studies, competition, and social pressure. According to the National Crime Records Bureau (NCRB), more than 13,000 student suicides were recorded in 2023—that’s one student taking their own life every 40 minutes. This isn’t just a statistic, but evidence of the failure of a system that abandons children instead of protecting them.
The government has enacted several laws and policies in the area of mental health—such as the Mental Healthcare Act 2017 and the National Suicide Prevention Policy 2021. But the question is, are these laws on paper actually saving any children on the ground?
The Mental Healthcare Act 2017 aimed to ensure that attempted suicide would no longer be considered a crime, but rather a form of mental distress. This meant that if a child attempted suicide, they would be supported, not punished. This was a significant initiative, as previously, such cases involved police action, which further devastated both the victim and the family. The law also stated that every citizen would have the right to mental health services, meaning counseling and support would be made available in schools, colleges, and workplaces.
But the reality remains that most schools and colleges in the country lack trained counselors. A 2023 survey by AIIMS found that 70 percent of colleges lacked a mental health specialist. The situation is even worse in rural areas. This means the law was passed, but the necessary infrastructure was never developed.
In 2021, the government released the National Suicide Prevention Policy. This policy stated that suicide is a public health crisis and that the departments of education, health, and social welfare should work together. It called for identifying “high-risk groups” such as students, farmers, and migrant workers and creating prevention mechanisms for them.
Some states took it seriously. For example, in Kerala and Maharashtra, school teachers were trained to recognize signs of depression or hopelessness in students. School counseling cells were even established in some places. However, looking at the overall picture, 40 percent of districts still don’t have a suicide prevention cell. No separate budget was allocated for this policy. As a result, this policy remained just another document in government files.
We must go beyond the boundaries of laws and policies and understand that suicide is driven not just by mental illness but also by the increasingly insensitive environment of society. Coaching centers have slogans like “IIT or Nothing” plastered on their walls. Every child is caught up in the race for ranks and results. Instead of childhood, they have been reduced to a ‘project.’
Many parents impose their dreams on their children. Failure is considered an insult. Instead of conversation, the home becomes a question-and-answer session—“How many marks did you get?” “What will you do next year?” This emotional distance breaks children from within.
It’s now difficult to hide failure. In the world of Instagram and Reels, everyone wants to appear “successful.” Those who can’t consider themselves failures. People complain if a school lacks a playground, but no one seems to care if there’s no counselor. Even today, families consider a child “stressed” as “weak.” Mental health remains stigmatized.
Moving beyond laws and policies, we now need to adopt practical, sensitive, and sustainable measures. Trained counselors should be mandatory in every school and college. If the government wishes, it can appoint psychologists under the National Health Mission. Tele-counseling facilities can also be extended to remote areas. Mental health should be included in the curriculum. It is important to teach children that failure is not the end. Like the Delhi government’s “Happiness Curriculum,” “life skills” and “emotional education” can be made mandatory in all states.
Every parent and teacher needs to understand the impact their words have on children. If a child is withdrawn, not talking, or suddenly changes behavior—it’s a sign they need help. Today, every student has a mobile phone. If they can access psychological support through it, many lives could be saved. Initiatives like the “Kiran Helpline” need to be strengthened.
The media must also understand its role. Instead of sensationalizing suicide news, it should highlight how to seek help. Films and social media must also break the “succeed or die” mindset. The government should maintain district-by-district reports on how many schools have counselors, how many suicides have occurred, and what steps have been taken. No policy is successful without accountability.
Laws and policies can provide direction, but they cannot awaken empathy. Society must do that itself. We must recognize that a child is not a “rank,” but a “human.” They have dreams, not just degrees—and those dreams can be sustained not by failure, but by love and support.
Kota, Delhi, Patna, or Hyderabad—news of suicides from every city shocks us, but we forget them after a few days. Yet, every child who passed away was a mirror of our society—they left saying, “You didn’t hear me.”
In India, initiatives like the Mental Healthcare Act 2017 and the National Suicide Prevention Policy 2021 are steps in the right direction, but they will remain incomplete unless society, families, and educational institutions collectively prioritize mental health. Every suicide is not a story of failed policy, but of failed empathy. The solution lies not in new laws, but in the understanding that failure is not an end, but a new beginning.
