An open letter to the young lives lost too soon

Dear children,

You may never read this open letter I am writing to you — or perhaps you will, from the balcony of the world you chose to ascend to after the NEET-UG examination was cancelled. Already distressed by the paper leak and the lapse in the system, the news of your deaths came as a horror to me, and I am crestfallen. I sincerely wish to have a conversation with you, between the two realms to which we now belong. This is not a newspaper column; it is a heartfelt epistle written in the knowledge that I may never receive a reply. Or perhaps I will — from those who read this — and their responses may help stop the growing trend of young people choosing self-annihilation instead of courage and confidence when the system fails them.

The first question that comes to my mind is this:

what on earth made you end your lives for a mistake that was never yours? I understand that your years of hard work seemed wasted. Your dreams shattered into smithereens, and suddenly you felt stranded in darkness. But who told you there was no light beyond it? Which devil convinced you that this was the end of the road? Why did suicide appear to be the only response to this crisis?

I have often tried to understand the logic behind taking one’s own life. Statistics suggest that there are nearly 14 to 15 million suicide attempts worldwide every year, of which around 720,000 end in death. I deliberately avoid saying people “succeed” in suicide because choosing death when life still stretches ahead can never be called a triumph.

Life has a way of disrupting plans and pushing people to the edge. I, too, have gone through moments when the future appeared bleak and death seemed easier than enduring life’s burdens. I have had fleeting thoughts of escape. But those thoughts always passed. Over time, I realised that the future still holds possibilities, however hidden they may appear in moments of despair. The struggles we endure often shape us into stronger and wiser human beings.

I must confess — as many others would — that thoughts of escaping life’s harshness are not uncommon. What keeps most of us going is faith: faith that setbacks are temporary and that life offers more than one path. But in your case, you believed that this setback was permanent, that there was no life beyond becoming a doctor. Dear children, what happened to you was deeply unfair, but it could never have determined your entire future. One examination could not define what you were destined to become. There are countless ways to fulfil one’s dreams, and there are many dreams worth pursuing. Life never offers only one route to success. Sadly, no one may have told you that — not your parents, teachers, or guardians. People often say suicide is not a solution. Perhaps you were not even seeking one. Perhaps you were only trying to escape the pain and humiliation that overwhelmed you. But you had not failed. The system had. That you paid with your lives for someone else’s failure is heartbreaking. You could have become symbols of hope for future generations. Instead, your deaths have become reminders of despair. I only wish someone had taught you that life renews itself every day with fresh opportunities. Your lives were precious, and it is tragic that you could not see it. You had not reached a dead end; you merely mistook a curtain for a wall and stopped walking.

The writer is a Dubai-based author, columnist, independent journalist and children’s writing coach; Views presented are personal.