Can we teach our children to stand strong?

It was in the same week when two students, one in Delhi and another in Jaipur, died by suicide, unable to bear the harassment and bullying they faced in school, that I heard of two teenage breakdowns within my own circle. If the timing of these was a coincidence, it was a cruel one. A coincidence that confirms what we have long refused to acknowledge: our children are suffering.

They are suffering despite everything we claim to do for their comfort and happiness. Their world, which we assume is cushioned with care and opportunity, is instead filled with threats, tension and tears. We remain oblivious to the storms brewing behind their composed faces, their disciplined routines, their rehearsed smiles until one day they decide that they are alone in this, and that the lonely battle must end.

The pattern is repeating with alarming regularity and it is unclear if it is being addressed enough. There is concern, sympathy and calls for stringent action against those who create conditions that lead our children to do unthinkable things. But there is no clarity or understanding of what ails them, what drives them to consider self-harm or suicide as the only resort they have when faced with external threats and inner turbulence, and above all, what as parents and teachers we could do to save them.

The world today is far more open that it used to be back in our days. Their exposure to the rawness of life and its vagaries is unchecked, and their once naïve, little space is now contaminated with negative influences. Competition, comparison and intimidation are not confined to classrooms alone. There are devils in every corner waiting to pounce on them. The threats come wearing many disguises - peers who wield power through mockery, teachers who mistake discipline for dominance, institutions that still believe fear is a legitimate tool of regulation, and the relentless online world that creates distorted images of life. We keep asking why children are breaking down.  They are exhausted, not merely by academics, but by the constant need to belong, the pressure to be perfect, the unspoken expectation to be emotionally invincible. They are lonely even when surrounded by people who love them, because instead of parents, they seek love in their friends who are as waylaid as them. They are afraid of teachers who intimidate, of peers who mock, of parents who compare, of a world that measures worth in ways they do not fully understand.

They must be taught to face what frightens them, challenge what diminishes them and speak against what violates their spirit. They must become warriors by discovering within themselves a core that no bully, no insult, no exclusion, no failure can break. A core made of emotional intelligence, moral courage, self-trust, and an inner compass that does not sway with every external storm. And it is this cultivation of inner strength that we have so far failed to prioritise. In our zeal to protect them from discomfort, we have forgotten to prepare them for reality. If a harsh world cannot be softened overnight, then we must teach our children how to meet it without collapsing. To understand that setbacks are not catastrophes. To find within themselves the resolve to fight back, speak up, seek help, and keep moving.

The writer is a Dubai-based author, columnist, independent journalist and children's writing coach; views are personal