There is a need to protect our youth from suicide by replacing relentless pressure with compassionate listening, early support, and unconditional acceptance
There are cries for help that make no sound. They hide behind a smile in a classroom, a quiet “I am fine” at home or a young employee sitting silently at a desk. Suicide is not merely a statistic. Behind every life lost is a human story of dreams, disappointments, expectations, loneliness, fear and pain – a person who felt their suffering had become too heavy to carry alone. If we want to prevent suicide, we must learn to see the human being behind the number.
This concern is particularly painful regarding young people. Youth is supposed to be a season of hope, yet for many, it has quietly become a season of enormous pressure. They are expected to score high marks, enter prestigious colleges, clear competitive examinations, obtain good jobs and become financially independent. At the same time, social media constantly places someone else’s success before their eyes. Slowly, comparison replaces confidence. A young person may ask not, “What do I want from life?” but, “Why am I not good enough?”
For a student, the pressure surrounding an examination can last for years. When results arrive, years of effort seem reduced to a single number. A student who did not qualify may feel their dreams have collapsed forever, and the fear of facing parents can become greater than the fear of the examination itself. When society constantly asks, “What rank did you get?”, it unintentionally teaches children that their value is determined by a merit list.
We need to tell our children: you are not your marks, and you are not your rank. An examination measures performance in a test; it cannot measure kindness, creativity, courage, resilience or potential. We celebrate toppers so loudly that those who do not succeed sometimes feel invisible. We display success but rarely discuss the courage required to recover from failure. It is time to teach our children that failing an examination is not failing at life, but simply one difficult chapter in a much larger story.
For many, the struggle continues after education. Graduates enter a difficult employment landscape where applications are submitted and interviews are attended, but opportunities remain elusive. As classmates receive appointment letters and financial responsibilities grow, the young graduate may feel left behind. Unemployment is not merely the absence of income; it affects confidence, identity, relationships and purpose.
Unemployment is a circumstance, not an identity. A person without a job today is not a person without a future. Yet casual questions like “Still looking for a job?” or comparisons with successful friends can deepen a painful wound. Someone struggling may hear them as a reminder that they are falling behind. Compassion begins when we understand that everyone is fighting a battle we may not see.
Families play an especially important role. A child should not feel that parental love depends upon marks, nor that their worth is tied solely to achievements. The words “We are proud of you” should not be reserved only for moments of success; they should also be spoken after failure, rejection and disappointment. Young people need to know their families will stand beside them when they stumble.
We must also learn to listen. When someone says, “I am tired,” we should not dismiss it with “Everyone is tired.” When a friend withdraws or expresses hopelessness, we should notice. Prevention often begins with a simple statement: “I may not understand everything you are going through, but I am here to listen.” We do not need perfect answers; we need to create a space where another person does not feel completely alone. If someone talks about suicide or appears in immediate danger, their words must be taken seriously, involving a trusted person, mental health professional or emergency service.
Institutions and society share this responsibility. Schools and colleges need accessible counselling and teachers should be trained to recognise emotional distress. Workplaces must treat mental well-being with the seriousness given to physical health. Governments must strengthen mental health services while addressing educational stress, unemployment, financial insecurity and social isolation. Mental health cannot be separated from social conditions.
Most importantly, we must change our definition of success. Life is not a competitive examination with only one correct answer. There is no single age at which a person must succeed. A career can change, a dream can change and a path can change. None of this is failure. Beginning again is itself an achievement.
A person experiencing deep emotional pain may see today’s suffering as permanent, but our responsibility is to help them reach tomorrow. We cannot promise life will never hurt, but alongside difficulties, there will be unexpected opportunities and new beginnings. Sometimes hope is simply one person saying, “Stay. You do not have to face this alone.”
Suicide prevention cannot end with sympathy after a life is lost; it must begin with responsibility while a life can still be saved. Each of us can do something simple: listen without judging, notice without ignoring, ask without hesitation and stay without giving up. We cannot remove every difficulty, but we can ensure no young person faces them alone.
We can create families where failure is met with understanding, classrooms where a rank does not determine dignity, and workplaces where mental well-being matters. We must remind our youth that a failed examination can be reattempted, a lost job replaced and a dream reshaped. But a life once lost cannot be given another attempt. When a young person is struggling silently, we must have the courage to ask them today: “Are you really okay?”
(Vasant Pednekar is Research Scholar-Goa University and Assistant Professor at DMC College, Assagao-Goa.)
