The Socio-Psychogenesis of Suicide in Kota: A Psychologist’s Reflections

As a psychologist working in Kota, I am deeply immersed in the lives of students who come to this city, carrying the weight of countless expectations. These young individuals, often between the ages of 15 and 23, leave their families and familiar surroundings to prepare for some of India’s most competitive entrance exams, such as JEE and NEET. While some of their stories are inspiring, they are also profoundly tragic, as many buckle under immense pressure. The alarming rate of student suicides in Kota is a manifestation of a complex web of social, familial, systemic, and individual factors.

Sitting across from these students in counselling and therapy sessions, I often hear narratives tinged with anxiety, despair, and hopelessness. The emotional toll they endure is palpable, and while their pain is immediate, the causes of their struggles run deep into the structures of our education system, societal values, and familial expectations.

The Burden of Student Responsibility

It is easy for people to point fingers at students themselves, blaming their inability to cope or labelling them as too fragile to handle challenges. However, such simplifications only serve to absolve others of their responsibility. These adolescents, still developing emotionally and psychologically, are thrust into an unforgiving environment where their worth is measured solely by ranks and results.

In counselling sessions, I have often reflected on a fundamental issue: many students do not know why they are here. They come to Kota with dreams of clearing the JEE or NEET exams, not because they genuinely aspire to be engineers or doctors, but because societal and familial pressures have convinced them that these professions are the only path to a prosperous and meaningful life. But is this “knowing” genuine? True knowing involves an internal sense of purpose and clarity, not the blind acceptance of external expectations. Without this inner sense of direction, their journey becomes one of constant self-doubt and despair, compounding the pressures they already face.

As much as I try to help them reframe these thoughts, I cannot ignore the systemic and societal factors that reinforce these beliefs. It is not the students who fail but the environment around them that sets them up for such profound despair.

Families and the Unyielding Weight of Expectations

In many cases, parents and other family members play a critical role in shaping the pressures their children feel. Kota is not just a city for these families; it is a beacon of hope and aspiration. Parents often see the city as a means to secure their children’s futures, investing substantial financial resources to enroll them in renowned coaching institutes. This investment is not merely monetary but also emotional.

Many parents approach this journey with good intentions, wanting the best for their children. Yet, these intentions often morph into overwhelming expectations. In my conversations with students, I hear them speak about their parents’ sacrifices—selling land, taking loans, or foregoing personal comforts—all to fund their education in Kota. These sacrifices, while commendable, place an unbearable burden on the child to succeed.

Students often mention, “I feel like I am living my parents’ dream, not mine. If I fail, I will ruin their lives.” These words stayed with me, highlighting how the pressure to succeed is often about fulfilling familial aspirations rather than personal ambitions.

In many families, there is also an emotional disconnect. Parents, preoccupied with the financial and logistical demands of this journey, may not recognize the psychological struggles their children face. Mental health is still a taboo topic in many Indian households, and students are often discouraged from expressing vulnerability. When they do speak up, they may be met with dismissive comments like “Just focus on your studies” or “Everyone else is managing, why can’t you?”

Society’s Unyielding Standards

Beyond the family, societal expectations amplify the pressure students feel. In India, success is narrowly defined by a few prestigious professions, particularly in engineering and medicine. Society places an almost mythical value on securing admission to institutions like IITs and AIIMS, equating this achievement with intelligence, respectability, and upward mobility.

The societal obsession with these professions creates a culture of hyper-competitiveness, where students are judged not only by their results but also by their ability to surpass their peers. This relentless comparison erodes their self-esteem and fosters a toxic environment where failure is stigmatized.

In my work, I have seen how societal judgment seeps into the psyche of students. They fear not only their own disappointment but also the shame they believe their families will endure if they fail. Students said, “If I don’t get a good rank, my neighbours will say my parents wasted their money. I can’t let that happen.” This external judgment adds an unbearable layer of stress to an already overwhelming situation.

The Role of the Coaching Industry and Education System

The education system and coaching industry are central to the pressures students face. Kota’s reputation as a coaching hub is both its greatest strength and its greatest weakness. On one hand, the city offers unparalleled resources and expertise for competitive exam preparation. On the other hand, it fosters a culture that prioritizes results over well-being.

Coaching institutes operate like factories, churning out toppers to enhance their reputations. Students are subjected to gruelling schedules, often studying for 12–14 hours a day. The emphasis is solely on academic performance, with little attention paid to their mental or emotional health.

I have visited these institutes and spoken with faculty members, and while many express concern for their students, the structure of the system leaves little room for compassion. Mock tests, rankings, and cutthroat competition dominate the landscape, creating an environment where students feel like mere numbers.

The education system also bears responsibility. India’s focus on high-stakes exams creates an atmosphere of scarcity, where securing a limited number of seats in prestigious institutions becomes a do-or-die situation. This scarcity fuels the coaching industry’s growth while neglecting the broader question of how education should serve the holistic development of individuals.

The State’s Apathy

The role of the state in this crisis is both glaring and appalling. Despite the well-documented pressures faced by students in Kota, there is a severe lack of mental health infrastructure in the city. There are too few counselors and psychologists to address the needs of the tens of thousands of students who come here every year.

Moreover, the state’s failure to regulate coaching institutes allows these organizations to prioritize profits over student welfare. There is little accountability for how these institutes operate or the impact they have on students’ mental health.

Government initiatives to promote mental health awareness often remain superficial, failing to address the systemic issues that drive students to despair. As a psychologist, I often feel like I am working in isolation, trying to put out fires in an environment that constantly fans the flames.

A Culture of Silence

One of the most heartbreaking aspects of this crisis is the culture of silence surrounding it. Families, coaching institutes, and society at large often avoid addressing the issue of student suicides, treating them as isolated incidents rather than symptoms of a systemic problem.

When suicides do occur, the narrative often shifts to blame the individual student for their perceived weakness, ignoring the broader structures that contributed to their despair. This refusal to engage with the root causes perpetuates the cycle of pressure and tragedy.

Personal Reflections

As a psychologist, I carry the weight of these stories with me long after the counseling sessions end. I have seen students break down, sharing their fears and vulnerabilities in ways they cannot with their families or peers. Each story is a reminder of the immense challenges they face and the urgent need for systemic change.

There have been moments of hope, too—instances where a student begins to see their worth beyond academic results, or where a parent starts to understand the importance of emotional support. These moments keep me going, but they also highlight how much work remains to be done.

In Kota, the lives of students hang in a delicate balance between hope and despair. They come here with dreams, but too many leave as cautionary tales. This city, and the systems that support it, must reckon with the human cost of its success. Only then can we hope to create an environment where students can thrive not just academically but as whole, resilient individuals.

This issue is deeply personal to me, not only because of the work I do but because I see in these students a reflection of our collective values and priorities. Their struggles are a mirror to our society, urging us to confront uncomfortable truths and take responsibility for the environments we create. It is not just their dreams that are at stake but their lives—and that demands nothing less than our full attention and commitment.