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Showing posts with label 2016 -Kriti Tripathi’s -Kota. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 2016 -Kriti Tripathi’s -Kota. Show all posts

Thursday, July 11, 2019

Assembly Line - Telegraph India

Assembly Line

Much is said about Kota, the coaching hub. But what’s it like to be a student there...

By Manasi Shah

Published 9.07.19, 4:53 PM


A still from the Web-series Kota Factory, which portrays students’ lives in the city(Screengrab)

Every year, lakhs of students go to Kota, a city in Rajasthan, with a dream. A dream of being tutored at the best coaching institutes there and, thereafter, crack the competitive exam for entrance to the best engineering or medical colleges of India.

But what becomes of the dream after? Shakeel Ridwan Karim, 21, could not make it to the IIT league, but he considers his Kota chapter as the game-changer. Says the student of civil engineering at Aligarh Muslim University, “I couldn’t excel in studies, though I got into a decent college, but that doesn’t mean studying at Kota was a waste of time. It gave me extremely useful life lessons.”

According to Shakeel, at Kota, one is either a poster boy or just another face in the crowd. He says, “Either you are the successful one or you are the guy who is slowly descending into the depths of failure. Maybe you aren’t a failure in the strictest sense of the term, but society labels you thus.”

And it is this fear of a label that overwhelms students and drives them to extremes, the original point of the shift quite lost.

There is no denying that for some time now Kota is synonymous with student suicides. In 2018, reportedly 19 students committed suicide; seven in 2017; and 17 in 2016. 

“It’s not because of bad scores in the JEE Mains... It’s because I’ve started hating myself to the extent that I want to kill myself,” wrote 17-year-old Kriti Tripathi in a note before jumping to her death from a five-storey building this April. She had reportedly urged the government to shut down coaching institutes at the soonest. “They suck,” she wrote.

Ankit Shaw of Calcutta went to Kota after clearing his Class XII boards. He prepared for the IIT-JEE (Indian Institutes of Technology Joint Entrance Examination). He says, “Kota has a very systematic way of teaching. I was in batch 13 — the batch of gap-year students. Batches change every two to three months. If you do not perform well, not only do you not get a better batch, but also face family pressure. The result of every exam is sent to parents.”

Ankit talks about a frenzied pace of teaching, the trouble in keeping up, revising. He says, “I missed having someone I could speak to, who would understand why my performance was deteriorating. But then I think even if I had someone, I wouldn't have had the time to talk.”

Suvam Poddar was in Kota for two years to prepare for the NEET (National Eligibility cum Entrance Test). He says, “If a student has failed or taken that extreme step of committing suicide, the institutes are blamed. But it is you [the student or his or her family] who is seeking admission, agreeing to pay the hefty amount to the institutes. They aren’t the ones forcing you to do so.”

Suvam is not the only one who feels this way. Shakeel, too, says that if anything is to be blamed it is the larger education system in the country. Both Suvam and Shakeel feel blaming the place is unfair and list other reasons of failure — peer issues, smartphone addiction, difficulty in adjusting to hostel or paying guest accomodation diet.

During Suvam’s time there, someone he knew committed suicide in his hostel. Recalling that time he says, “Leaving the personal matters of individuals, it’s mainly because of fear and insecurity. External pressure doesn’t let the student breathe properly and somehow he or she falls into the trap of giving up.” Ankit says Kota has toughened him. “It taught me how to go ahead in life, without anyone’s support. Kota teaches one how to function under pressure and, most importantly, it teaches one how to survive.”
Not everyone who passes through Kota and succesfully at that look back with fondness or appreciation. In fact, Shristi Agarwal, who bagged a seat in IIT Kharagpur post Kota, has a caveat for parents. She says, “While the quality of education in Kota institutions is one of the finest in the country, the negatives surrounding the place often override the positives to a point where it may all become toxic. I remember one of my batchmates who was enrolled in a programme that helped students start early, right after primary school. That is the kind of marketing they’ve managed to pull off, the kind of thing parents should understand and stay away from.”

And then not every road to success passes through Kota. Ritesh Kumar Singh, 24, went there after his Plus Two hoping to realise his true potential. He says, “Somewhere along the way I lost my path and it didn’t turn out to be of much help. There was no one to guide me.” Singh is now working in Larsen & Toubro Infotech as a software developer. From all these testimonies one thing is clear — one must weigh the pros and cons before packing the bags for Kota.

‘Kota is not harsh, the competition is’

Kota Factory is a recent Web-series by The Viral Fever (TVF). It captures the life of IIT and medical aspirants as they face both competition and life. The episodes — Inventory, Assembly Line, Optimisation, Shutdown, Overhaul — throw light on what Kota does to its students. The maker of the series, Saurabh Khanna, talks to The Telegraph.

Khanna is a Kota factory product and an IIT Kanpur graduate. He says, “It was a subject we had in mind for years because most core team members have studied there.”

He points out that the series is India’s first black- and-white one. But why? According to Khanna, though the effect is used popularly for period dramas or flashbacks, in this series it is employed to portray a world of stark binaries. He says, “Kota is not harsh, the competition is. The characters were much thought through.” For instance, there is the bright Meena, who is from an underprivileged background and is devoted to books. Then there is Uday, who is intelligent but much too carefree, smoking and partying. Shivangi, Uday’s live-in girlfriend, is representative of the female population in the city — outnumbered by the males, yet significant. Finally, there is Vaibhav, who is the protagonist. Says Khanna, “He is an average guy, who wants to study but he struggles. He is not a genius and he is unable to sit for six hours at a stretch.”

Khanna says he consciously didn’t want the protagonist to be someone who wanted to do photography but ends up doing engineering. “Vaibhav wants to study but does not know how to. And it is difficult when you compete with the world for the first time.”

The monologues in this Web-series sum up the essence of Kota. But the greater aim is to focus on problems such as exam fear that will not let even a good student solve papers, ace an exam. Khanna says, “If you ask me why people go to Kota, I’d say it is for the training and the teachers.”

Thursday, November 3, 2016

Another Distressed Student Commits Suicide In Kota For Not Fulfilling Family’s Expectations - Scoop Whoop

Oct 15, 2016 at 15:01


Every year, hundreds of ambitious students arrive in Kota, the so-called mecca of engineering and medical entrance coaching centres, carrying the expectations of their family and teachers on their tender shoulders. And if they are unable to perform, it fills them with so much guilt that some of them take the extreme step of ending their lives. 


Yet another student fell prey to the rat race which puts them under immense pressure of securing admission in top institutes. Aman Kumar Gupta, a 16-year-old student studying in Kota, ended his life because he thought he failed to live up to the expectations of his father.


Source: pagalguy.com
Aman hailed from Raghopur in Bihar and his father was a teacher. He was depressed because he hadn't been performing well in his coaching. Distressed for not being able to fulfill his family's expectations, he jumped to death into the Chambal river from an under-construction bridge. In a moving video clip he shot before committing suicide, he said he wanted to go ahead with life, but could not. He said:
"Papa always supported me but I brought shame to him in class 10th and a complaint was even made to the school principal then," HT reported. 

Source- Hindustan Times

Not too long ago, 17-year-old Kriti Tripathi had committed suicide despite clearing the first stage of the IIT entrance exam because she was forced to pursue engineering. Aman is the 14th student from Kota to end his life this year. He also urged his parents to forgive him and not send his younger brother away from them, whom he fondly called Chotu. In his video, he said:

"Everyone at the coaching institute and my friends helped me but I am not being able to do it right. Do not cry for me and I am committing suicide without any reason as I do not want to live."

How long before we realize the worthlessness of this blind race we are pushing our kids into? 

Friday, September 30, 2016

58 Suicides In Last Five Years, What Is So Wrong With Kota Dream? - India Times

58 Suicides In Last Five Years, What Is So Wrong With Kota Dream?


September 28, 2016

Giving up on her dream to become a doctor, another student ended her life, on Tuesday, in Rajasthan's Kota, known for coaching institutes competitive examinations.

The victim, identified as Sneha Suman (17), a native of Khagariya, Bihar, is among the twelve young people who chose to end their lives. Earlier, in April, 17-year-old Kriti Tripathi had committed suicide in her hostel room. Before her, ten other students did so.

Reportedly, 58 students have killed themselves in various hostels in Kota in last five years.

The dreams of becoming next Sunder Pichai, Satya Nadella and Naresh Trehan bring over 80,000 children to Kota every year. They become part of this USD 45 million coaching industry being run in this city of Rajasthan.

But what are the main reasons behind forcing youngsters, taking such an extreme step?

Parents' Expectations
There is a possibility that neither Kriti nor Sneha, who committed suicide were asked whether they wanted to become engineer and doctor respectively.
Parents generally force their children to take up professions including engineering and medical, considered to be job oriented.

Thinkstock

They put pressure on their children to become engineers or doctors. Majority of the fault also lies with system in India where people aren't considered successfull, if they don't end up becoming engineers, doctors or bureaucrats.

No Screening Test
Kota has over 130 institutes, which give coaching for various exams. While these  institutes sell dreams, filling their coffers with a lots of money, they don't test a student's aptitude.

AP

The students, some interested and majority forced by their parents end up paying huge amount of money for reluctantly studying the science subjects.

“If we don’t admit them, some other coaching institute will pick them up. A second reason for not having a screening process is that no parent likes to hear that his/her child won’t make it to the IITs. They will push for it and say ‘Let him give it a shot, at worst one year will get wasted’," Pramod Maheshwari, who co-founded coaching institute Career Point, told The Quint after Kriti's suicide in April.

Huge investments and pressure of success
In order to make their wards successful, parents invest a considerable amount of money. On an average, a family roughly spends Rs 6 lakh per year for coaching in Kota. The average tuition free across the institutes being run in Kota is about Rs 2, 13, 000 along with an average of Rs 3.36 lakh as hostel fee and Rs 60,000 as fee for dummy school.

The Hindu

Most of the families who send their children to Kota are from middle class background and for them, paying such a huge amount annually is a daunting task. The student also feels this pressure.

Barren childhood and dummy schools
Majority of the students in Kota arrive in this city at a tender age of 12 or 13. Their parents get them enrolled in dummy schools, which they never attend. It means that when children of their age learn other things in life, they grapple with calculus and relative velocity for world's most competitive examination. They never experience a childhood, which teaches how to get up after you fall.

AP

By the time they reach 12th standard and get ready for their first litmus test in form of IIT-JEE or AIPMT, their parents  end up spending Rs 15-20 lakh over five or six years. Many of these families take loans and if the student feels that his failure wouldn't only sink his future, but also of his parents and siblings, he decides to end his or her life. 

Big Image Courtesy:Reuters

Monday, May 16, 2016

The great Indian IIT dream: Why parents want children to be engineers - Hindustan Times


  • Poulomi Banerjee, Hindustan TimesUpdated: May 15, 2016 12:28 IST
Kalu Sarai is not Kota. Or so people would like you to believe. 

This New Delhi neighbourhood has some obvious differences with the Rajasthan town that made its reputation as the country’s coaching hub for IIT and has recently been in news for a spate of student suicides.

For one, even though Kalu Sarai attracts IIT aspirants from the city and indeed from all over the country, it is just one neighbourhood in the sprawling national capital. Unlike Kota, where even auto drivers mark you as an IIT hopeful, or the parent of one, as soon as you alight at the station, in Delhi, cabbies don’t make that obvious connect the minute you give a Kalu Sarai address. Institutes here also claim that they ensure that students don’t feel unduly stressed about the competition that lies ahead.

A beginning is made
When the first India Institute of Technology (IIT) was set up in Kharagpur, West Bengal, in 1950, the aim was to create an institution for higher technical learning to boost post-war industrial development in India. Over the years as the number of IITs went up, the focus seems to have shifted to creating good employment opportunities for its students. It is so at least in the minds of the country’s vast middle class populace. “For years engineering, medical and the administrative services have been the professions of choice for the middle class,” explains sociologist Dipankar Gupta. “Engineering is the most preferred since there are more colleges offering engineering. Other professions have come up in recent years, but one often needs to be well connected to get those jobs. For most people, the chances of getting a job with an engineering degree are far better than with a simple bachelor of science or arts degree.”

Once that decision has been taken, the IIT is the next obvious choice. “On an average, an IIT degree helps one start at a 50% higher salary than a degree from a less pedigreed engineering college,” says Chiranjit Banerjee, managing director of People Plus, a Bangalore-based recruiting agency. Every year, placement season sees some IITian hit newspaper headlines by bagging that dream Google or Microsoft job with a salary varying between Rs 1.5 to Rs 2 crore, thus inspiring a fresh batch of aspirants to make an IIT degree the mission of their young lives.

“The number of students appearing for the Joint Entrance Examination (JEE) for engineering has increased from 12 lakh to 14 lakh in the past five years. The IITs have a total of only 10,000 seats” says  R Subramanyam, additional secretary (technical education), ministry of human resource development.


An IIT coaching centre in New Delhi’s Kalu Sarai (Saumya Khandelwal/HT Photo)

Living on hope
Thus are born hubs like Kota, or Kalu Sarai in Delhi, that sell the hope of realising the big Indian IIT dream . Other cities too have their trusted institutes. “There are about 25 coaching centres for engineering in Kalu Sarai. The demand for tuition ensures that about two-three new centres open up every year,” says the manager of an institute.

To enter the area is like entering into an institute campus. FIITJEE, Bansal, TIME, Guidance, Narayana – the row of institutes is seemingly never ending. Employees of each institute hang around the lane, trying to solicit new students. 

Overhead fliers carry photographs of JEE toppers and the names of institutes that have trained them. Book shops too sport advertisements of the latest JEE result or books that can help crack the test. Other fliers inform of rooms available for rent for students. Shops selling fruit juice, tea or momos are thronged with students taking a quick break on their way in or out of classes. The conversation is all about engineering. Just to have made it so far is like half the battle won. The failure of his first attempt at getting a good enough ranking at JEE pushed Rishah Chauhan to a Kalu Sarai coaching centre. “I have got admission to an engineering college, but I want to try again for IIT,” he says.

It is this hope that made Sanjay Kumar Sharma, a shopkeeper in Bihar’s Motihari town, send his two sons to study at a coaching institute in Kalu Sarai as soon as they appeared for their class 10 board examinations. “When I was young there was no one to motivate me. But when I saw the children of many of my family members studying engineering, I encouraged my sons to do the same,” says Sharma, who paid Rs 1,68,000 to get his elder son admitted last year for a two-year coaching programme. “The younger one, Sarvajit, got a scholarship and so I had to pay only Rs 58,000 for him this year,” says the proud father, who pays an additional Rs 20,000 as hostel fees for both his sons. He is willing to sell off the family-owned land in Bihar or take a loan to fund the boys’ education once they get into engineering college.

KEY FIGURES
  • 14 lakh
  • number of aspirants for JEE, which has gone up from 12 lakhs in the last five years
  • 10,000
  • Total number of IIT seats.
  • 2.9 cr
  • Number of jobs in the organised sector in India (as of March 2011).
  • Source: Ministry of Human Resource Development and Ministry of Labour and Employment

But sitting in his coaching centre classroom, 16-year-old Sarvajit is already bored of the subject. “I wanted to be in the Army. If I tell my father that I’m not enjoying this, I think he will let me quit. But I don’t have the heart to tell him,” he says.
Classes are held for approximately six hours a day, during day time for those who have completed school and during afternoons and evenings for school-going aspirants. But most out-station aspirants, like Sarvajit and his brother, prefer to enrol at some school in their hometown in the distance education mode and keep the focus on the IIT preparation. “School fees in Delhi are beyond my means,” adds their father.
Students are alloted classes on the basis on grades and regular tests are done to upgrade or downgrade the students. Sixteen-year-old Rishabh has just started a two-year coaching programme after appearing for his class X board examinations this year. His smile is wistful when asked if he misses playing or hanging out with friends, watching movies or just sleeping during the holidays, but is quick to add that it is worth it. The IIT dream is his own, he insists. While his mother, Nidhi, says they never put any pressure on him, she admits that she worries about pressure from friends and extended family. “They are always saying that Rishabh is brilliant and is sure to get into IIT. That is a kind of pressure,” she says.

Engineering aspirant in New Delhi’s Kalu Sarai, the IIT coaching hub of Delhi (Saumya Khandelwal/HT Photo)

Pressure to perform
Often the pressure to perform is linked to the awareness of the financial burden parents must bear for their education. Like Sharman Joshi’s character in the film 3 Idiots, based on Chetan Bhagat’s novel Five Point Someone, whose every visit home is a reminder that his unmarried sister, ailing father and struggling mother need him to get his degree and a job.

It’s an awareness that also haunts 21-year-old Massouwir, who is preparing for the JEE for the second time. “My father is a mason. He has already paid Rs 65,000 tuition fees for a year of coaching. He does ask me what guarantee is there that I will be able to clear the test,” says Massouwir, sitting in a small dingy room in Kalu Sarai that he shares with another student. Though his family lives in Ghaziabad, he prefers to stay as a paying guest here, paying Rs 3,500 a month and an additional Rs 2,500 for his meals. “It saves travel time if I stay close to the coaching centres,” he explains. The room has two narrow beds for the two occupants and a single table piled high with books.
Even success at times fails to alleviate the stress. Counselling psychologist Geetanjali Kumar talks of a recent case where a student broke down after clearing the JEE Mains. “Though she was good in science, engineering was not something that interested her and she was worried that since she had cleared JEE, her parents’ expectations from her would go up,” says Kumar, adding that she gets about 15-20 such cases every month, where parents try to pressurise their children to study engineering because they think it is a more stable career choice.


Need to listen
In her five-page suicide note, Kriti Tripathi, who jumped to her death on April 28 in Kota, accused her mother of manipulating her as a child into liking science. She warned her against doing the same with her sister. Moved by the suicides and the letters left behind by the students, Kota collector Dr Ravi Kumar Surpur recently wrote an open letter to parents advising them against putting such pressure on their children.


Meanwhile, at a coaching centre in Delhi, a group of 50 students stare uncomprehendingly when asked whether the IIT dream was theirs or their parents. “Most of those studying for engineering take it up because they have been advised by their parents that it is a safe career option or because they see others around them pursuing the same,” says IITian Gaurav Tiwari, who is faculty at a coaching centre in New Delhi. “But we can’t really expect a 16-17-year-old in India to know what he wants to do in life. If we have to empower children to make their choices, we have to change the very pattern of our education, so that a child can make an informed choice.”

In its absence, parents too spare little time to understand a child’s aptitude. “Most parents don’t try to understand their children. They lose the capacity to listen. Often they live in denial and assure themselves that the child will not really come to any harm. They prefer to believe that once they clear the tests everything will fall in place,” says Kumar. Kriti understood this. In her suicide note, she wrote, “Some might even say that she was so strong that we would never have imagined that she would do something like this… This is because I helped many come out of their depression and make a comeback. Funny, I couldn’t do that to myself”.

The single-minded focus on getting into an engineering college means that often students are not even exposed to what is happening in the world around them. “Such learning by rote may not prepare them to be an engineer in the true sense — someone with problem solving and coping ability,” says Kumar.


And India is not alone in this. In South Korea, parents send their children to institutes giving private tuitions, popularly known as crammers, to make sure they get into good universities. Unsurprisingly, Korean institutes like Etoos have opened in Kota.

Back in India, despite the rat race, some, like Rancho, Amir Khan’s character in 3 Idiots, manage to keep their inner quest alive. Very few like Rajiv Bagchi (name changed on request) actually manage to break out of the system without worrying about whether it’s too late to change track. After completing his BTech from IIT, the 28-year-old is now doing a PhD in Philosophy. The son of an engineer father, he finally realised where his interests lay.




Wednesday, May 11, 2016

Shut coaching institutes: Kota student's suicide note - Deccan Herald


Kota (Raj), May 10, 2016 (PTI)

Coaching institutes should be shut down by the government, wrote a 17-year-old student before jumping to her death from the fifth floor of her residence here on April 28, despite having cracked the IIT-JEE mains.

In her four-page long suicide note, the contents of which have been released by police, the girl expressed her desire to join NASA as a scientist and her lack of interest in engineering.

A Ghaziabad resident, Kirti had been staying with her parents for over two years in Kota and taking coaching for IIT-JEE at an institute in the city.

The suicide note says she was not able to put up with the depression and stress that she had been experiencing while taking coaching, according to Harish Bharti, SHO, Jawharnagar police station today.

In a line from her note, Kirti said the Human Resource Development (HRD) Ministry should shut down the coaching institutes, complaining that studies in these centres subjected the students to unbearable stress and depression.

Though she cracked the ITT-JEE mains by scoring 144 marks, engineering was a field in which she had no interest, the SHO said, referring to her letter.

He said Kirti had received an award from NASA and wanted to join the space agency as a scientist.

In her letter, she addressed family members, including her grandparents, parents and sister, and expressed deep love and attachment for each of them, the SHO said.

Another teenager, a BA first year student, died yesterday during treatment after having attempted suicide on May 7 at her residence in Shivpura area of the city.

The deceased has been identified as Preeti Singh (18), police said.
She allegedly attempted suicide by hanging herself from a ceiling fan as she was stressed due to studies, they said, adding the body has been handed over to her family.
This is the ninth suicide by a student in Kota this year. 

Monday, May 9, 2016

By the way: Love in the times of Kota suicide

By the way: Love in the times of Kota suicide

  • Aarish Chhabra, Hindustan Times, ChandigarhUpdated: May 08, 2016 12:15 IST
The Little Brother had been sent off to Kota. From the haloed town in Rajasthan which produces students for elite engineering colleges, he was destined to go to IIT, and then run the world. (HT File)

He was the younger brother of a classmate of ours. He walked with a slight limp, and thus was bullied by fellow students who knew no better. But he found solace in the company of physics, which he loved as much as I loved our physics teacher.

Thanks to a couple of surgeries and physiotherapy, his limp grew less and less pronounced as he grew older. With it, grew his confidence, and the love for physics, books of which he carried even when he came to the stadium to watch us play cricket. As he turned 15 and passed Class 10 with a score so high that it’s embarrassing for lowly people like yours truly to mention, he disappeared.

The Little Brother had been sent off to Kota. From the haloed town in Rajasthan which produces students for elite engineering colleges, he was destined to go to IIT, and then run the world.

We, the lesser mortals, had our own lives to run. Done with Class 12 in ‘arts’, we headed to the place that everyone in Punjab heads to if he can’t head to Canada. Chandigarh.

This was three years into the new millennium. And Chandigarh was already the Kota of the Upper North. We saw many such little brothers, some sisters, in our paying guest houses. But they could conveniently be ignored in favour of a culture shock that was much better company. We passed our inconsequential degrees, and got jobs as teachers, bankers, journalists, carrying out unimportant, non-engineering works.

Then, a suicide last week by a girl in Kota made headlines, and I was reminded of Little Brother, more out of curiosity than concern.

I found him on Facebook, of course. A chat revealed he had never completed his quota of Kota. He had returned to our hometown, to sell cloth at the family shop. Every few lines into our FB chat, he meandered into the lanes of Kota, talking of how he could not ‘adjust’. “It felt like the world only needed engineers,” he wrote over chat one day, joking about how Kota had robbed him of his pure love for physics too. “Finally, I started falling in love with girls instead.”

He never studied beyond Class 11.

Kriti Tripathi, better known now as the #KotaSuicide girl, was different. She wanted to study, just not engineering. But her parents were determined. From Ghaziabad, they had shifted to Kota for two years so that Kriti could realise their dream. It was her nightmare. She did clear the IIT-JEE, but death seemed a better option. It wasn’t failure, but success forced down her throat, that killed her.

The suicide also broke the slumber of our many committees and commissions for child rights, and they looked towards institutions in Chandigarh. The findings of their inspections are shocking, but only if you live among the higher Himalayas, away from the real world — classes have 150 students each; there is one counsellor for 3,000 students, or none; and no one bothers about the students’ health.

Will anything happen now? No, not until parents start seeing beyond the neighbour’s child; not until the coaching centre owners grow into angels; and certainly not until humanities are not seen as essential to the world as they are. Contents of BA and MA courses have not changed for decades; so much so that notes given to correspondence-course students carry the same spelling mistakes for 20 years and counting! 

We are busy pitting nationalist IITians against anti-national JNUites. Mythology is the new history, and social studies the new enemy. No party sees humanities as more than grounds to recruit Kanhaiyas. No party sees scientific pursuit as more than a trophy achievement.

Indeed, BTech from non-elite institutions is losing its sheen, too. In Punjab, there are colleges and private universities seeing not only zero placement but also zero enrolment. Yet, don’t be mistaken that the business is dying. The bubble may be bursting at one place, but it’s flourishing at others. Even to sell pop fiction, people are using their engineering degrees. And it’s working. There is still no dearth of Kritis being sent to Kota.
Little Brother was lucky, I think.

(aarish.chhabra@hindustantimes.com)

Sunday, May 1, 2016

She cleared IIT-JEE and committed suicide, wanted pursue to BSc instead - India Today


The girl, identified as Kriti Tripathi, had left behind a five-page suicide in which she mentioned that she did not want to pursue engineering.

IndiaToday.in  | Edited by Siddharth Tiwari
New Delhi, April 29, 2016 | UPDATED 16:38 IST

A 17-year-old girl committed suicide by jumping off a five-storey building in Kota on Thursday, a day after she cracked IIT-JEE, scoring 44 marks above the cut-off of 100.
The girl, identified as Kriti Tripathi, was rushed to a local hospital, but was declared brought dead.

According to the police, Kriti left behind a five-page suicide note in which she mentioned that she did not want to pursue engineering and wished to pursue bachelors of science instead.

Kriti, a resident of Ghaziabad, had moved to Kota two years ago to prepare for IIT entrance exam and one of her parents used to stay with her.

As many as 56 students have committed suicide in Kota in the last five years owing to fear of failure.


While several coaching institutes have launched a round-the-clock helpline to offer counselling, the district administration has also asked all coaching institutes to admit students after proper screening process.

What a suicide in Kota shows: That IIT dream is a nightmare - Hindustan Times


  • Suveen Sinha, Hindustan TimesUpdated: Apr 29, 2016 13:07 IST
The classroom of a coaching institute in Kota, the country’s IIT training hub. (Pradeep Gulati/ Mint file photo)

Last year they took away Neelabh’s mobile phone and changed the SIM. No one can talk to him now. Not his friends, not his cousins, not his uncles, not his aunts. Not even his grandmother, who put him to bed nearly every night until, at the age of six, he went to live in Patna with his mother.

Neelabh’s father and grandmother stayed back in Saharsa, one of Bihar’s dust bowls. They thought breaking up the family was a small price to pay for realising their dreams, all of which saw Neelabh smiling on a top IIT campus.

They were not hallucinating. At the St Michael school in Saharsa, Neelabh was far ahead of his class. He cracked the entrance test to DPS Patna, and then to DPS R K Puram, in New Delhi. But he did not join the school’s hostel. He stayed outside at a spartan private hostel in Adhchini. He had enrolled in IIT coaching. It would have been difficult to come out of the hostel every day for that.

For two years he took a city transport bus to school every morning, came back in the afternoon, hurried through lunch, and left for coaching. He came back exhausted and crashed. Sometimes he did not have the energy to eat his dinner.
Yet, he flunked the IIT-JEE last year. His father went into mourning. He had kept the boy focused since he was a toddler. “Nothing but the IIT,” he would often tell Neelabh, several times a day when the admission process for DPS R K Puram was going on.

After the JEE results last year, the father sent Neelabh away to Kota. Kota--the beehive whose 40 IIT coaching institutes take in 150,000 students every year. Where many young dreams go to die in the grand mission of fulfilling their parents’ ambition. Where Neelabh’s paths may have crossed Kriti Tripathi’s.
Kriti Tripathi , a girl from Ghaziabad, did not want to be an engineer. On Thursday, she jumped to her death from the fifth floor of her apartment building.

Hers is the fifth suicide by a Kota coaching student. What’s five out of 150,000, the cynics would say.

Actually, a lot. Few things in this world are sadder than the loss or maiming of a young life. More so if it happens because the young person ends it herself out of despair. More so if the parents have a hand in it, even if with the best intentions.
But Kriti’s case is unique. She killed herself a day after the JEE mains results came out, which she cleared comfortably with 144 marks. The cut-off is 100.

So, unless another theory emerges, Kriti killed herself because she could not imagine herself trudging through years of engineering and then perhaps doing for the rest of her life something she might hate.

The issue has been raised effectively, if a bit superficially, in popular culture. Think of Agastya’s travails in English, August. 

Think of Madhavan’s struggles in 3 Idiots. You might dismiss them as flaky. But please do not dismiss the death of a young woman. The very first Kota suicide should have woken us up.
There was a story in our school textbook about a scientist talking to a lemming, the little rodent-like creature which has a suicide myth. The scientist asks why lemmings kill themselves by deliberately running off a cliff. The lemming quips he does not understand why humans do not.

We can safely tell the lemming we do, just that instead of jumping off a cliff we send our children to Kota. Where, one hopes, Neelabh is fine. Few have his mobile number.