By Asma Majid
Srinagar: Sikander stood tall at the starting line, his feet digging into the track like roots anchoring a tree.
“On your mark, get set, go!”
These familiar words had become a regular refrain in his practice sessions, propelling him into motion each time that he heard them. But today, standing at the threshold of the 1600 m race line, he heard them as a prelude to his impending victory. As the starter’s pistol crackled, Sikander burst forth like a champion stallion unleashed, his legs pumping like pistons, his spirit ablaze with the fire of a thousand suns.
The sky above was a brilliant blue, a celestial canvas stretching out to infinity, while the ground beneath his feet was an endless golden road, beckoning him towards glory. Amid a flurry of rivals, Sikander moved forward with the grace of a falcon in flight, his heart afire with an unquenchable passion.
As he began traversing the last 6 minutes and 30 seconds of his beavering away, his heart swelled with a mystifying joy, a feeling inexplicable. After 5 long years of keeping his nose to the grindstone, he had finally reached that stage where the next few minutes were to decide his fate, the end of which would either make him forget the moil of the years gone by, their sordid cares and feverish unrest or smother the effervescence of his passion for ever.
For the greater part of life, the tender touch of his mother’s love had been a warm embrace that had enveloped Sikander’s edifice of being, but to his father, it was a suffocating grip that stifled his growth.
“Your mollycoddling has crippled him,” the father would lament in a voice laced with the sting of disappointment. For in his father’s eyes, Sikander was destined for greatness, his name etched in the annals of history as a revered officer, a dream that had been the very oxygen he breathed. But the tender shoots of that dream had withered under the weight of Sikander’s lackluster grades and his mother’s overindulgence, leaving him nestled in a comfort zone that had become a prison.
But fate intervened, shattering the complacency that had shrouded Sikander’s existence. A failed exam, a stern lecture from his father, and a heart-wrenching conversation with his mother – the veil of ignorance was lifted! A profound moment of epiphany slammed through him, illuminating the vast chasm between his potential and his performance. The realization was stark: his parents’ dreams, once a distant hum, swelled into a deafening cacophony. The weight of their sacrifices, the depth of their love, and the magnitude of their expectations converged, fuelling his determination which soon transformed into an unbridled ambition.
Sikander thus embarked on a quest for validation, diving headfirst into the high-stakes arena of competitive exams. He meticulously filled out forms for various tests. Following an exhausting odyssey of sleepless nights and tireless days, Sikander eventually found himself on the roster for one of the numerous examinations that he took as he qualified for the coveted Sub Inspector position. But the triumph was short-lived. The results were annulled due to technical glitches, leaving his dreams in limbo. Unfazed, Sikander regrouped and recharged, his resolve strengthened by adversity. A year later, he aced the re-examination, and now, with the finish line in sight, only the grueling stretch of the race stood between him and the coveted officer’s badge. The final hurdle loomed large, but Sikander’s spirit remained unbroken, ready to face the ultimate test of endurance.
The half-time siren pierced the air, sending a jolt of anxiety through his veins, Sikander’s ankle wrenched sideways in a sudden, shock-driven spasm and his momentum faltered for a split second as he teetered on the edge of losing his balance. But he recovered swiftly, arresting his stumble with a swift correction that spared him from a potentially disastrous fall. The siren’s blast was a reminder. He began running furiously, as if it was a do or die situation for him. And so it was.
In his head, Sikander felt a play of all the awful repercussions that his failure might unleash. Just the way it happened with one of his good acquaintances, Umar. Umar had also qualified for the Sub-Inspector exam in the first go. But once the results were annulled, Umar had failed to ace the exam a second time. A brilliant student, Umar had worked day in and day out to achieve a distinguished career. But everytime, he would be unfortunate enough to miss the hit by an inch. After every arrow had been struck, Umar attempted to re-adjust his range of vision. He somehow managed to leave an ailing mother in the hospital to take the National Eligibility Test (NET) in order to secure a JRF and a PhD spot, and eventually a brighter future.
However, the NET exam was cancelled two days later, apparently due to inadvertent complications.
The rampant scams and corruption in state-level exams had already disillusioned Umar and many like him, but the bitter truth that similar malpractices have infiltrated even the prestigious national-level exams has left them stunned and utterly demoralized.
Umar’s younger sister Shifa had similarly devoted many late hours to secure a spot in the MBBS programme for which she was supposed to take the single national level undergraduate medical entrance exam, National Eligibility Cum Entrance Test (NEET), conducted by The National Testing Agency (NTA). Like every year, this year too, the exam followed its routine course but shortly afterward, Shifa, along with lakhs of other students, was shattered as a cloud of controversy vis-à-vis the exam ensued following allegations of widespread question paper leaks, impersonation, cheating and other irregularities
It was on May 5, that over 24 lakh students appeared for the NEET examination at 4,750 centres across 571 cities, including 14 international locations. The result was declared on June 4, which immediately caused a hue and cry with aspirants raising multiple issues, such as the awarding of grace marks to over 1,500 students, an unusually high number of students achieving perfect scores, and allegations of a leaked question paper. The results showed that 67 students achieved a total score of 720, which was a higher percentage compared to the previous years’ results. In 2023, only two students had scored full marks, while three in 2022, two in 2021, and one in 2020. It was argued that after the maximum marks of 720, the next highest score possible was 716, and that marks of 718 and 719 did not make sense.
A retest for 1,563 students, who had previously been awarded with grace marks, was conducted on June 23 as per the Supreme Court orders.
Post this, the Central Government established a high-level committee to investigate the National Testing Agency’s (NTA) examination conduct and functioning.
The committee’s report, due in two months, is eagerly awaited, but its findings and impartiality are still up in the air.
In the midst of these thoughts, during the last 3 minutes and 15 seconds of his run, Sikander closed his eyes and opened them and closed them again only to visualise the smiling face of his dearest friend Faheem, a smile that had ceased forever.
A 20-year-old Faheem had hopes to get a place in the Indian Institute of Technology (IIT), one of India’s most prestigious colleges. His parents had long wanted him to become a successful engineer.
Five years ago, Faheem had moved from Srinagar to Kota, a hub of private coaching institutes in the northern state of Rajasthan catering to youngsters hoping for entrance into some of the country’s most prestigious medical and engineering colleges. Faheem’s parents had to borrow money from relatives to help pay for his private coaching in Kota.
With perspiring clenched fists and eyes tightly shut, Sikander recalled Faheem narrating to him the ordeal of the tough days and sleepless nights after his first failed attempt to enter IIT – a period so bleak that it had driven him to contemplate the unthinkable – ending his own life! But with regular medication, he had begun to cope a bit better.
However, following a second unsuccessful effort, Faheem took his own life, giving in to the overwhelming pressure to pass the entrance examination.
Scared and shocked, the parents of a couple of more friends that still dwell in Kota are called by their parents five times a day to check up on them.
Pertinently, India has one of the world’s highest youth suicide rates. One student took their own life every 42 minutes in 2020, according to the National Crime Records Bureau (NCRB). In the same year, 11,396 suicides of students below the age of 18 were reported across all of India.
The plight of students struggling with academic pressure is a disturbing trend that transcends regions. Even in Kota, a city known for its academic rigor, suicide notes have poignantly revealed the desperate cries for help from students overwhelmed by expectations. As the pressure to perform mounts, some of these students feel like they have no way out. The suicide notes left behind by some of these young people are a poignant reminder of the devastating consequences of unchecked stress and anxiety.
Hum kitna bhi padh lein lekin humara selection nahi hoga!
(No matter how hard we study, we can never make it to the selection list)
Sorry Mummy Papa, par main kisi cheez ke layak nahi hun!
(Sorry Mummy Papa, but I am good for nothing)
But even in this bleak landscape, Kashmir stands out as a particularly troubling hotspot, with a staggering 300% increase in student suicides between 2019 and 2022. To add to the troubles, the region’s fragile mental health infrastructure is struggling to cope with the crisis
Moreover, the role of coaching institutes in grinding the students to the core cannot be overlooked. The oppressive environment of these institutes has become a breeding ground for distress, driving young minds to succumb to the unbearable weight of expectations. The alarming surge in suicides throughout India is not solely attributed to exam pressure but also the suffocating grip of parental and peer expectations, compounded by the cutthroat culture perpetuated by these coaching institutes.
Dr. Vinod Dariya, a professor in Kota Medical College’s psychiatry department has noticed that students tend to suffer from peer and parental pressure.
“A large number of students come from low-income families, with the burden of parental expectations that they will become doctors or engineers. This weighs heavily on them and takes a toll on their mental health,” Dr. Dariya says.
At his hospital, he regularly meets students who suffer from acute stress and depression.
“I see dozens of students every day and among them 4% are diagnosed with depression,” he adds. “And the sad part is that due to lack of mental health awareness some do not take it seriously. There are few cases where students need serious help from psychiatrists.”
The aforementioned is a sobering reminder that while we strive to raise Sikanders, Umars, and Shifas around us, we often overlook the countless domestic issues, financial hardships, mental instabilities, and emotional strains that they endure, regardless of their academic or career achievements. They bear the heavy burden of their parents’ and families’ expectations and, in return, ask for just one thing—a fair and transparent examination process, leading to a fair result. Yet, even this modest request seems too much to grant.
As the haunting memory of Faheem’s smile faded from his mind, Sikander’s eyes fluttered open, returning him to the present moment. With a sudden jolt of adrenaline, Sikander burst into a fervent sprint. As his breath grew shallow, the panorama of his life unfurled before his eyes. Time seemed to warp as its highlights flickered one after the other. With each heartbeat, the chapters of his life raced past like a whirlwind of moments and milestones. But as one memory paved way to the other, Sikander’s mind cleared, his thoughts silenced, and his breath faltered. He took one final stride, and crossed the finish line, collapsing onto the ground! The siren blared, signaling the end of the race. Time was over and Sikander was first on the finishers’ list. As others crossed the line, some stumbled while others managed to stay on their feet. Those who stumbled dusted themselves off and got up but Sikander lay motionless on the ground. As the referee’s hands reached out to lift him in triumph, he met a limp and lifeless body – cold and unresponsive! The pulse that had raced with determination just moments before was now eerily still.
Sikander’s heart, once a roaring inferno of dreams, had been reduced to smoldering embers, its final beat a sorrowful whisper of shattered aspirations, a haunting elegy to the promises of glory and greatness unattained.
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