By Mohammad Ehsan Leghari

In the quiet corridors of Pakistan’s professional colleges, an invisible storm is gathering force, one that is steadily claiming the lives of some of the country’s brightest young minds. The recent suicide of Fahmida Leghari, a third-year topper at Muhammad Medical College in Mirpurkhas, Sindh, has sent shockwaves across the nation. According to emerging media reports, she had been subjected to sustained harassment, including alleged misconduct and psychological torment. It is further alleged that a fake social media account was created to malign her reputation. Her family later revealed that she had confided fragments of her suffering to her sister, yet was unable to fully articulate the depth of her distress.

While some social media narratives have suggested that similar incidents may have occurred previously at the same institution, there is currently no publicly verified data confirming a pattern specific to the college. However, this absence of reliable and transparent information itself reflects a deeper institutional weakness, where critical incidents are often underreported, inadequately investigated, or quietly buried.

This tragedy is not an isolated occurrence. Over the past decade, cases reported at institutions such as Chandka Medical College in Larkana; including the widely reported case of Nimrita Kumari, have triggered protests, public scrutiny, and enduring questions about accountability within medical education institutions. These cases collectively point toward a deeper, systemic crisis.

At its core, this crisis reflects the dangerous convergence of unchecked harassment, extreme academic pressure, and a profound neglect of the psychological realities shaping student lives. Anxiety, depression, panic disorders, and emotional exhaustion are no longer peripheral concerns; they are becoming defining features of the student experience. Yet, they remain largely invisible within institutional structures.

Empirical evidence underscores the gravity of the situation. A landmark study found that approximately 35.6 percent of medical students in Pakistan reported experiencing suicidal ideation within a single year (Osama et al., 2014). Other studies suggest that between one-third to over half of medical students experience symptoms of depression and anxiety; rates significantly higher than those observed in the general population. Research also highlights the widespread prevalence of bullying and harassment within medical colleges, with a substantial proportion of students reporting exposure to such behaviors, which are strongly associated with psychological distress (Ahmer et al., 2008).

However, to fully understand the depth of this crisis, one must examine the gendered realities, particularly in Sindh. Evidence from national surveys such as the Pakistan Demographic and Health Survey (PDHS 2017–18) reveals that a significant proportion of women in Pakistan have experienced physical or emotional violence in their lifetime. Studies by Aurat Foundation and Human Rights Commission of Pakistan consistently highlight patterns of harassment, coercion, and social control that disproportionately affect women, particularly in conservative and semi-urban settings.

Within such a socio-cultural environment, female medical students do not operate in isolation from society; they carry its pressures into already demanding academic spaces. Harassment is not limited to campuses; it extends into reputational threats, digital abuse, and character assassination. The fear of social stigma, victim-blaming, and family dishonor often silences victims. In such conditions, even highly resilient and high-performing students can find themselves trapped in cycles of isolation and psychological distress.

It is therefore not merely an academic crisis; it is a reflection of a broader societal environment that, for many women, has become increasingly restrictive, unsafe, and emotionally exhausting. When institutional pressure intersects with societal control, the result can be devastating.

Understanding this crisis requires unpacking its structural roots. First, the architecture of medical education in Pakistan is inherently high-pressure. It revolves around rigid, high-stakes examinations, frequent assessments, strict attendance requirements, and an intensely competitive environment. In such a system, even minor academic setbacks can be perceived as catastrophic failures. Families, having invested significant financial and emotional resources, often place immense expectations on students, further intensifying this pressure. Research consistently demonstrates a strong association between academic stress and suicidal ideation among medical students.

Second, harassment operates at multiple levels within these institutions. Ragging by seniors often involves humiliation and coercion, while peer-level bullying reinforces exclusion. More concerning is the abuse of authority within teacher-student relationships. Power imbalances can enable behaviors such as public shaming, unfair grading, and, in some cases, exploitation. For many students, particularly females, this leads to chronic anxiety, loss of confidence, and trauma-related responses.

Third, the psychological dimensions of education remain critically neglected. Institutional cultures tend to be hierarchical and authoritarian, with limited emphasis on mentorship or emotional intelligence. Faculty are rarely trained to recognize distress. Mental health stigma discourages help-seeking, while counseling services are either absent or ineffective. External pressures, including economic uncertainty and limited career opportunities, further deepen student vulnerability.

Finally, institutional and regulatory gaps continue to perpetuate this crisis. Although the Pakistan Medical & Dental Council (PM&DC) has issued guidelines emphasizing student counseling and support, implementation remains weak. Anti-harassment laws exist but are often undermined by fear of retaliation and institutional protectionism. Critically, the absence of reliable national data on student suicides obscures the scale of the problem.

The consequences of this systemic failure are profound. Families are left devastated, peers carry long-term psychological scars, and Pakistan loses talented individuals in a sector already facing shortages. More dangerously, such an environment discourages future generations, especially women, from entering professional education.

Addressing this crisis requires urgent and structural reform. Institutions must establish robust mental health systems, enforce zero-tolerance harassment policies, and create safe reporting mechanisms. Academic culture must shift from fear-driven performance to supportive learning. Educators must be trained in empathy, ethics, and gender sensitivity.

At the policy level, regulatory bodies must ensure enforcement, not just guidelines. National campaigns are needed to destigmatize mental health, and suicide prevention must become part of education policy. Legal protections must be strengthened and implemented effectively.

Families and society must also evolve. There must be a shift from pressure and control toward understanding and support, especially for young women navigating both societal expectations and professional challenges.

Ultimately, the loss of Fahmida Leghari; and similar tragedies, forces us to confront a painful truth: we are not just failing our students; we are failing our daughters.

This is not merely an educational issue. It is a societal crisis, one that reflects how environments, both institutional and social, can become so suffocating that even the most brilliant minds see no way forward.

With empathy, accountability, and evidence-based reform, Pakistan’s medical colleges can still become spaces that nurture resilience rather than destroy it. But the time to act is now.

Before another life is lost.

References

Osama, M., Islam, M.Y., Hussain, S.A., et al. (2014) Suicidal ideation among medical students of Pakistan: A cross-sectional study. Journal of Affective Disorders, 159, pp. 94–98.

Ahmer, S., et al. (2008) Bullying of medical students in Pakistan: A cross-sectional questionnaire survey. PLoS ONE.

National Institute of Population Studies (NIPS) and ICF (2019) Pakistan Demographic and Health Survey 2017–18. Islamabad.

Aurat Foundation (various reports) Violence against women in Pakistan.

Human Rights Commission of Pakistan (various annual reports) State of Human Rights in Pakistan.

Imran, N. et al. (2023) Pattern of adolescent suicides in Pakistan.

Coentre, R. and Góis, C. (2018) Suicidal ideation in medical students: Recent insights.

Pakistan Medical & Dental Council (PM&DC) (2024) Guidelines for Undergraduate Medical Education.

Various media reports (2026) on student suicides in Sindh, including Muhammad Medical College and Chandka Medical College.

Read: When water runs out, women suffer more

__________________________

Mohammad Ehsan Leghari is a water expert, former Member (Sindh), Indus River System Authority (IRSA), and former Managing Director,

The post Academic Pressure and Mental Health Toll first appeared on Sindh Courier.

By Abdullah Usman Morai | Sweden

Every few days, tragic news emerges from Sindh: a young man or woman has taken their own life. Each story is brief, often reduced to a headline, a few lines about another silent departure. But behind those lines lies an ocean of unspoken pain, confusion, and despair. It is a crisis that demands not only our concern but our collective conscience.

The greatest epidemic of our age is not visible; it wears no wounds, no fevers, and no scars. It is a silent sadness that invisible weight pressing on countless minds and hearts. It hides behind laughter, in the brief pauses between conversations, in the sleepless nights when the mind becomes its own prison. Someone smiles while breaking inside; another withdraws into silence, carrying a storm no one else can hear. Some keep themselves busy to escape the emptiness that shadows them.

When this silent sadness is ignored or left untreated, it deepens, slowly transforming into depression, a quiet monster that steals the color from life. And at times, the burden grows so heavy that a person begins to think of the unimaginable of ending the pain by ending the self.

A Question Without an Easy Answer

How does someone who laughed, dreamed, and lived among us yesterday wish to die today?

The answer is painful yet simple: it lies in our social ignorance and indifference.

We acknowledge the flu but dismiss despair. We treat physical illness with medicine, but call mental illness weakness. If someone burns with fever, we rush to help; but if someone burns from within, we tell them, “Pray more, everything will be fine.”

Indeed, prayer is healing for the soul. Yet when the brain’s delicate chemistry falls out of balance, it requires more care, it requires understanding, therapy, medicine, and conversation. Silence and stigma cannot heal what science and compassion must treat together.

Depression, The Hidden Battle

Depression spares no one. It sees no class, no gender, no age. It can dwell in the mansion of the wealthy and the hut of the poor. It can hide behind makeup, degrees, and success.

Its signs are often subtle:

Loss of appetite, sleepless nights, disinterest in things once loved, or the haunting belief that life has lost all meaning.

But the most dangerous moment arrives when a person starts to think, “My existence no longer matters.”

That is the edge, the point where suicide begins to whisper.

We must understand: suicide is not cowardice. It is not a moral failure. It is the tragic consequence of unbearable pain, a cry for help that went unanswered for too long.

It is, in truth, an SOS from a suffering soul:

“Hear me. Understand me. Talk to me.”

The Search for Hope

Even in the darkest hour, there is a faint glimmer of light, sometimes so small that the eye must learn to see it again. Hope does not mean that everything will become perfect; it means that one still believes in the possibility of dawn.

Hope whispers, “I am not defeated yet.”

Two simple acts can change everything:

Speaking and Listening.

When a person finds the courage to speak about their pain, they have already begun healing. And when someone truly listens, not to reply, but to understand,  they become a bridge between despair and life.

Sometimes, all it takes is a gentle sentence:

“I am here with you.”

Such words can save a life.

Sindhi culture, at its core, is built on empathy, togetherness, and love.

Our heritage teaches us: “Live for others before losing yourself.”

If we can keep that tradition alive, perhaps many among our youth will find their way back from the brink of hopelessness.

Spiritual Hope, The Journey Within

Sufi philosophy tells us,

“To despair is to separate oneself from God.”

The verses of Shah Abdul Latif Bhittai, the wisdom of Sachal Sarmast, and the message of Sindhi Sufism remind us that every sorrow is sent with meaning. Sometimes the Divine places us in darkness, not as punishment, but as preparation to awaken our sight toward light.

For centuries, music, prayer, and nature have been quiet healers of the human spirit.

The soft rhythm of Shah’s Raag, the echo of a qawwali in the night, or the silence beside the Indus River, all of these connect us back to ourselves. They remind us that pain, too, can be sacred; that even grief can become a prayer.

Our Collective Responsibility

As a society, we must become a place of love and refuge for those fighting invisible wars within.

Talking about suicide should not be taboo, sinful, or shameful. It should be recognized as an act of compassion and moral duty to save lives before they fade away.

Schools, colleges, and media must normalize mental health awareness.

Alongside doctors, teachers, parents, and friends must learn how to listen because sometimes listening is more powerful than any medicine.

We must remember that kindness costs nothing, but silence can cost a life.

The Meaning of Life

Despite all its pain, uncertainty, and imperfection, life remains beautiful.

A single night of darkness cannot erase the light of an entire morning.

There are always new beginnings, often hidden behind what seems like the end.

Life is the name of the hope that lives within us. When you believe everything is over, that is when a new light begins to rise.

Read: Unlock Your Real Inner Potential

__________________

Abdullah Soomro, penname Abdullah Usman Morai, hailing from Moro town of Sindh, province of Pakistan, is based in Stockholm Sweden. Currently he is working as Groundwater Engineer in Stockholm Sweden. He did BE (Agriculture) from Sindh Agriculture University Tando Jam and MSc water systems technology from KTH Stockholm Sweden as well as MSc Management from Stockholm University. Beside this he also did masters in journalism and economics from Shah Abdul Latif University Khairpur Mirs, Sindh. He is author of a travelogue book named ‘Musafatoon’. His second book is in process. He writes articles from time to time. A frequent traveler, he also does podcast on YouTube with channel name: VASJE Podcast.

The post Suicide, Depression, and the Hope first appeared on Sindh Courier.

• The article offers an in-depth exploration of the alarming rise in suicide rates in the modern era, blending both emotional insight and research-based context.
• It reflects on the silent struggles many face today, amplified by digital culture, societal expectations, and a lack of open discourse around mental health.
• The article also includes a compelling real-life case study to humanize the crisis and emphasize the urgent need for awareness and collective action.

Sawera Nadeem

In today’s fast-paced and hyper connected world, suicide has emerged as a silent epidemic — a grim indicator of the deep psychological toll the modern era is taking on individuals across all age groups. Once a taboo topic spoken of in hushed tones, suicide has now forced its way into public discourse through alarming statistics, heartbreaking stories, and the overwhelming burden placed on mental health systems globally. Behind each number lies a story, a life, and a network of shattered hearts, left to grapple with the unanswerable question: why?

The pressures of modern life are unlike any in human history. From academic stress and career competition to economic instability, family pressures, and social isolation, individuals today are constantly navigating a labyrinth of expectations and emotional strain. The pursuit of perfection, driven by societal ideals and often amplified by the curated realities of social media, has created a distorted view of success and happiness. Many are led to believe that everyone else is thriving, while they alone are struggling — a perception that breeds hopelessness and despair.

This sense of loneliness and comparison is particularly intensified in the digital age. Social media, while a tool for connection, often serves as a double-edged sword. The constant influx of filtered lives and unattainable beauty standards creates a toxic environment that can exacerbate feelings of inadequacy and alienation. Young people, especially adolescents and early adults, find themselves in a constant cycle of validation-seeking, where self-worth becomes tied to likes, comments, and followers. The result is a dangerous cocktail of anxiety, depression, and in extreme cases, suicidal ideation.

Beyond surface-level triggers, the root causes of suicide are deeply complex, often involving a combination of biological, psychological, and environmental factors. Mental illnesses such as depression, bipolar disorder, and schizophrenia are major contributors, yet access to adequate treatment remains limited, particularly in low- and middle-income countries. Moreover, the societal stigma surrounding mental health continues to deter individuals from seeking help, fearing judgment or being labeled as weak.

Read: Schedule Caste People commit more suicides than others in Sindh

While we attempt to generalize the issue through data and reports, it is individual stories that truly illuminate the human cost. Consider the case of Zainab, a bright 22-year-old university student from Karachi, who appeared cheerful and driven to everyone around her. Unknown to most, Zainab had been silently battling depression for years, triggered by unresolved childhood trauma and the immense pressure to excel in her studies. Her online presence was filled with smiles, inspirational quotes, and pictures with friends nothing to indicate the storm inside. Tragically, in early 2024, Zainab ended her life, leaving behind a grieving family and a university community in shock. Her story is a painful reminder that outward appearances can be deceiving, and that suicide often occurs in silence, behind closed doors.

The rise in such cases has prompted urgent calls for action. Governments, educational institutions, and communities are beginning to recognize the need for mental health awareness and suicide prevention programs. Schools are integrating counseling services, awareness campaigns are breaking stigma, and mental health hotlines are becoming more visible. Yet, the pace of change is slow, and for many, help still comes too late.

To reverse this trend, we must foster a culture of empathy, openness, and psychological safety. Families must be educated on the signs of mental distress; schools and workplaces must prioritize emotional well-being alongside performance. Importantly, individuals must feel empowered to speak up to say “I’m not okay” without fear of judgment.

In conclusion, the increasing suicide rate in the modern era is not merely a statistic — it is a reflection of a deeper societal and emotional crisis. It is a cry for help that can no longer be ignored. Through understanding, education, and genuine human connection, we have the power to make a difference to listen more, judge less, and stand as a beacon of hope for those lost in the darkness.

Read: Drug Addiction Among Youth: A Growing Crisis

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Sawera Nadeem, based in Karachi, is a Mass Communication student with a passion for research-based writing.  She focuses on topics that highlight public interest and social impact.

The post Disconnected in the Age of Connection first appeared on Sindh Courier.

Abdul Hafeez Haral

Sindh, with a population of 47.9 million (Census 2017) is the second largest province by population and has the highest suicide rate in Pakistan. The reasons behind suicide rates don’t explain completely the phenomenon of suicides. As the authorities are unable to mitigate the factors of suicide, suicide rates keep rising at an alarming rate. With effective policies and regulations, authorities can control suicide rates.

The population is divided into three age groups: group A, whose age is between 0-14 years, is 19.5 million; group B, whose age is between 15-64 years, is 26.9 million; and group C, whose age is above 65 years, is 1.5 million. The data collected in 2020 by Sindh Police shows that 681 Muslims and 606 Hindus committed suicide between Jan 1, 2014 and June 30, 2019, which adds up to 1287 including 586 women. Sorrowfully, the data reveals that 702 of them were adults aging between 21 and 40.

According to the data, Mirpurkhas range witnessed the suicidal deaths of 646 people, including 356 females and 324 of them aged between 21 and 40 years. Of the 646 deceased people, 449 were Hindus and 197 Muslims.

In Hyderabad, 299 people, including 116 females and 191 victims aged between 21 and 40, ended their lives. 187 people were Hindus and 112 people were Muslims.

In Shaheed Benzirabad, 181 people, including 75 females, and 91 of them aged between 21 and 40, committed suicide. Numerically, Muslims numbered 139 while Hindus numbered 42.

In Karachi, 107 people, including 25 females, committed suicide, 68 of them aged between 21 and 40.

In Larkana, 48 people, including 12 females, and 25 of them aged between 21 and 40, took their lives. Among the deceased, 47 were Muslims and one was Hindu.

In Sukkur, only 6 people, including two women, and three of them aged between 21 and 40, committed suicide. Some 5 of them were Muslims, and 1 was Hindu.

Regretfully, the numbers show that Scheduled Castes committed more suicides than the combined suicides of Muslims and other communities. Of the 1287 suicides, 680 victims belonged to the Scheduled Castes, the lowest socio-economic class of the Hindu community.

According to Sindh Police, people took their lives by hanging, administering poison (drinking pesticides), drowning (jumping into a well), self-immolation, fenestration (jumping from high places), gunshot, and sharp blade/knife.

The major reasons behind the suicides are poverty, unemployment, falling socio-economic status, marital issues, domestic violence, addiction to drugs and psychological issues such as depression and anxiety, they added. However, in these factors, social media hasn’t been included, which is utmost reason behind today’s increasing suicides. When adults are immersed in social media, they aren’t just using mobile phones; they are also vulnerable to online harassment and blackmailing, which encourages victims to kill themselves before their reputation is sacrificed. And the other reason behind students’ suicides is parents’ higher expectations, which are hardly met by their kids. As a result, they commit suicide out of frustration.

The authorities have been failing to tackle the suicide rates. According to the study published in BMC Psychiatry, average suicide rates for the years 1985–1999 in the province of Sindh were calculated to be 1150. Since then, suicide rates have been increasing at an alarming rate, yet the Sindh Police and concerned authorities are unable to control suicides.

Uncontrolled suicide rates have long-lasting effects on all levels of society. Suicides rob us of the smart minds who might have contributed to the betterment of society. Therefore, Sindh Government and society should play their respective roles to halt the surging suicide rates.

The Sindh government’s roles include: establishing mental health services in each city, in which the government should appoint expert psychologists and psychiatrists; providing equal economic opportunities to all people; setting wages according to hiked prices; establishing psychological and harassment cells in higher educational institutions, which will help prevent suicide rates among students; initiating TV programs against domestic violence; setting up a separate unit for suicide cases in each police station; cyberbullying, which has become common in teenagers, should be curbed by developing the applications to report harassments and Sindh Police has to be quick to investigate online harassments.

However, the Sindh government alone can’t stop the soaring suicide rates. It also needs our equal roles. First, parents should not only listen to their children’s problems; they need to solve their children’s problems quickly. Second, if a friend in the circle of friends is having suicidal thoughts and behavior, other friends should listen to his/her problems and make him/her realize that he/she is not alone in this problems. Finally, co-workers should stand with each other in need of an hour.

In summary, Sindh is the second largest province by population. It has the highest suicide rates and they have increased at the speed of light since 1985. If left unchecked, they can wreak havoc on all levels of society. The Sindh government, along with the role of society, can eliminate the reasons behind the suicides and save talented minds.

_____________________

Abdul Hafeez Haral is student of BS English, 2nd year at Shaheed Benazir Bhutto University Shaheed Benazir Abad.

The post Schedule Caste People commit more suicides than others in Sindh first appeared on Sindh Courier.

Sindh Courier      

Reetika Vazirani, born to a Sindhi father and Bengali mother, was a prize-winning poet who died tragically at the age of forty on July 16, 2003. The year Vazirani died, the second of her two collections ‘World Hotel’ (2002), in which the poem “Daughter-Mother-Maya-Seeta” appears, received the Anisfield-Wolf Book Award.

Reetika Vazirani’s poem “Daughter-Mother-Maya-Seeta” focused on a mother figure, very possibly the poet’s own mother. Indeed, Vazirani used the name Maya to denote her mother in previous poems. This poem was written before the poet conceived her son, which supports the assumption that she describes her own mother, who had given birth to a son and several daughters and was a widow, as is the speaker in the poem. No matter to whom the poet refers, the speaker is a mother, recounting her life experiences.

“Daughter-Mother-Maya-Seeta” was first published in Prairie Schooner in 1998. It was reprinted in The 2000 Pushcart Prize Anthology, The New American Poets (2000), and Vazirani’s second book of poetry, World Hotel.

“I have been desperate, silent, silenced, alone, hungry, angry, and crushed” – Reetika had said in a letter written in 2003

She was a recipient of Barnard New Women Poets Prize for White Elephants (1996), “Discovery”/The Nation Award, a Pushcart Prize, the Poets & Writers Exchange Program Award, and the Glenna Luschei/Prairie Schooner Award for her essay, “The Art of Breathing,” which appeared in the anthology How We Live our Yoga (2001). She had been a Contributing and Advisory Editor for Shenandoah and was the guest poetry editor of two issues. She was a Book Review Editor for Callaloo and a Senior Poetry Editor of Catamaran, a journal featuring work by artists from South Asia. She translated poetry from Urdu and had some her poems translated into Italian. She contributed a poem, Mouth-Organs and Drums, to a “Poets against War” anthology.

Birth in India, migration to USA

Vazirani was born in Patiala, Punjab, India on August 9, 1962, to Sundar J. Vazirani, a talented and ambitious dentist, an Oral Surgeon in fact, and Heea (Maiden name Halder) a lady diplomat. But her parents immigrated to the United States in 1968 along with children. She grew up in Maryland and, as a child, took ballet lessons and ran on her high school track team. Vazirani attended Wellesley College for her undergraduate degree and then the University of Virginia, where she earned a master of fine arts degree.  After graduating from Wellesley College in 1984, she received a Thomas J. Watson Fellowship to travel to India, Thailand, Japan, and China. She also received an M.F.A. from the University of Virginia as a Hoyns Fellow.

After earning a master’s degree from the University of Virginia, Vazirani worked hard to establish herself in the most prestigious literary circles. Her poetry appeared in The Best American Poetry 2000, The Kenyon Review, The Nation and the Paris Review. Her first book, “White Elephants,” earned her a Barnard New Women Poet Prize in 1996.

Vazirani’s father had wanted his daughter to become a physician, but Vazirani found that her passions pulled her toward the written word. Once she latched on to poetry, Vazirani focused on improving her skills, getting her work published, and gaining the notice of a literary audience. She began to realize her goals and supported herself through teaching. Vazirani’s first poetry collection, White Elephants (1996), was honored with the Barnard New Women Poets Prize.

Vazirani led a somewhat typical middle-class life, but she seemed troubled. Many of her poems deal with the topic of otherness, as if she felt that she was part of no particular group with which she could identify, either in her adopted land or the country of her parents.

Follows father to end her life

When Vazirani was eleven years old, her father, a Professor of Dentistry at Howard University, committed suicide. Paula Span notes in “The Failing Light” that in 2003, Vazirani wrote a letter to the poet Rita Dove, her former teacher, telling Dove: “I have been desperate, silent, silenced, alone, hungry, angry, and crushed.” Vazirani used these words to describe her experiences of pregnancy and motherhood and her relationship with the father of her son, the poet Yusef Komunyakaa. Although Komunyakaa supported the boy, he and Vazirani never married and lived together only a short time. They were estranged at the time of Vazirani’s death, but it is unclear whether the estrangement was the cause of Vazirani’s depression.

Vazirani led a somewhat typical middle-class life, but she seemed troubled. Many of her poems deal with the topic of otherness, as if she felt that she was part of no particular group with which she could identify, either in her adopted land or the country of her parents.

On July 18, 2003, a friend found the bodies of Vazirani and her 15-month-old son on the dining room floor of the house in which Vazirani was temporarily living. Both the child and the poet had wounds. Telephone messages and notes were later found, indicating that Vazirani had killed her son and herself.

The report said that Vazirani and her 15-month-old son, Jehan, were found dead with their wrists slashed in the Maryland home of novelist Howard Norman. A note and two large kitchen knives were reportedly obtained by police at the scene. Vazirani also left a message on a friend’s voice mail that said, “I think I’m going to hurt myself.” The note found from the scene was with references to the boy’s father, Pulitzer prize-winning poet and Princeton University professor Yusef Komunyakaa.

Police called the deaths an apparent murder-suicide, pending an official ruling, The Washington Post had reported quoting sources.

Neighbors and friends told reporters that there had been signs that Vazirani was distraught.

Reetika portrays life in America in a poem 

The family moved around quite a bit, a dozen times as Reetika was growing up in America, getting adjusted to a new land, new life, and a new herself. The little girl had strong impressions of growing up to become a teenager in those days, most famously described in this often quoted poem:

“Daddy always cautioned me

How many rupees it took to get

A dollar; and when I bought my first

Chanel lipstick, it was as if

I might have bought a cow in India.

It was always like that-what I

Could have had were we in Delhi.

So that on holiday at Reno Road

He’d hint that Washington was not

Like home. That’s why he didn’t want

Me window-shopping downtown”

Darkness in Life

Tragedy seems to have struck Reetika early. A certain darkness was with her, her whole life. She was a gifted person, sensitive, smart and talented. She was fluent in English, French and Hindi, but was never quite comfortable in any particular culture or sure of what life had in store for her. She tried the sciences, she tried the humanities, and only perchance ended up a poet.

Her life ended tragically, horribly. It wasn’t merely that she took her own life, she also took away the life of the one she gave life to.

Jane Albertson, a biographer of Reetika, says, “In the 2003 Poets and Writers interview, Vazirani continued to explain that until she was 26, she was emotionally numb, having no sense that there was a place for me in the world except in books”. Though her father’s suicide was, in Reetika’s terms, a “complete rejection,” his act begins Vazirani’s journey toward definition, not a place for her in the world, but a way to live in the world that doesn’t want you”.

For Vazirani, the intellectual space of the migrant experience and the physical space of the migrant body cannot be metabolized. She says in her essay, ‘The Art of Breathing’, “I didn’t have the cultural confidence to be proud…I felt like a foreigner in my home”.

“In Vazirani, we find the immigrant confronting and conjoining those spaces, those weighty silences alive in the unspoken anxiety of the Indian living in the West, and, importantly, living the West,” Jane said.

In the community of poets, her work was widely read and respected.

Ms. Paula Span, an author and on death, dying, and suicide wrote an insightful article for Washington Post Magazine, A Failing Light. That article proved to be so popular, there was an online live chat with Span. Span weaves a narrative combining Reetika’s life story – the most detailed biographical sketch yet – and literary endeavors, with hints at the forces at play in the inner life of the struggling poet.

After her father’s death and her mother’s remarriage four years later, Reetika spent a long time feeling “numb,” she told Renee Shea, who interviewed her for Poets Writers magazine in 2002. “I had no sense that there was a place for me in the world except in books.”

The letters she wrote her friend and adviser E. Ethelbert Miller in the late ’80s and ’90s show her struggling to get noticed, to get published, to connect with the world of culture and literature where she clearly felt she belonged.

She was living, instead, with her husband, John Jordan — a family friend and aspiring musician she’d married in 1989 — in Nashville and then Blacksburg, Va. She was sending her submissions to small literary journals, getting turned down, sending them out again, all the while scrounging for money for postage and photocopying.

Read poetry of Reetika Vazirani

By 1994, important publications had begun to accept her work, but she still sounded frustrated. To make ends meet, she’d been working at Pier Imports, then at a bookstore; she taught English at private schools. Restive in her marriage (it ended in 1997), she was starting to think about the graduate writing program at U-Va. “I guess it’s partly the panic of being 32 having no job, no future,” she fretted in a postcard.

Though she and Komunyakaa never married (she told friends that he was willing but she’d declined), she did want to give their relationship every chance, to give Jehan a family. She left Sweet Briar a year earlier than planned and moved into Komunyakaa’s big old house in Trenton in the spring of 2001. But the place seemed “cavernous,” she complained; the neighborhood felt dangerous; she was far from friends and family. The relationship — about which she was discreet — evidently wasn’t working. She began to talk about being afraid, though she never said exactly what frightened her.

Despite her reputation for an endearing openness, Reetika was actually selective about her disclosures. She confided lots of details to lots of people, but almost no one knew everything. People who’d felt close to her for years didn’t know about her father’s suicide. Girlfriends outside the literary world sometimes heard more about her relationships than longtime poet friends.

Last days of her life

Sunday, July 13. Reetika — now housesitting in Washington at the comfortable Quesada Street home of poet Jane Shore and novelist Howard Norman — took Jehan to services at Denise King-Miller’s church in Georgetown. She’d been drawn to religion more lately; in Williamsburg, she’d joined a Bible study group. Reetika loved the service, but on the phone with Susan Sears that evening, she was weepy. “She felt hopeless,” Sears says.

Monday, July 14. She invited herself to the Miller home for dinner, bringing salmon, broccoli and cherries from Whole Foods. While they chatted, Denise fixed the meal. (“That was delicious,” Jehan declared afterward.) She was leaning toward Emory again, Reetika revealed, because Jehan had been accepted into an excellent preschool.

Tuesday, July 15. Jay Mandal, a New York photographer friend who took her publicity photos, visited Reetika while he was in Washington on a one-day assignment. “I think I want to kill myself,” she confessed to him. Once he realized she wasn’t joking, Mandal called a psychologist he knew in the District, leaving messages (not returned in time) at his office, his home, on his cell phone: A friend needs your help.

Wednesday, July 16. Reetika awakened her friend Diane Taylor with a 7:15 a.m. call. “Diane, I’m going to hurt myself and Jehan,” she said in a whispery voice. Call the suicide hot line right now, Taylor urged.

That same day, the Rev. Percival D’Silva received a message at the Shrine of the Most Blessed Sacrament down the street: A woman needed to speak to a priest.

He’d seen Reetika before, D’Silva realized as she sat in the brocade wing chair in his quiet office; he’d waved at her as she strolled in the neighborhood with her little boy. Maybe she felt drawn to him, though she wasn’t Catholic, because he was also Indian American. Or perhaps the church itself — an imposing Gothic structure with a bell tower — promised sanctuary. She also knocked on a neighbor’s door that day and asked to borrow a Bible.

“On the outside, she seemed pretty calm. But from what she was telling me, I could see she was disturbed. At times there were tears in her eyes,” D’Silva remembers. After 39 years in the priesthood, he thought he could recognize depression. He asked Reetika, several times, to make no decisions that could harm her — “Put things on hold” — and she agreed. He promised to locate and lend her a book, Spiritual Help for Depression.

Wednesday, July 16. Reetika awakened her friend Diane Taylor with a 7:15 a.m. call. “Diane, I’m going to hurt myself and Jehan,” she said in a whispery voice. Call the suicide hot line right now, Taylor urged.

“No, they’ll put me on drugs, and they’ll put me in the hospital,” Reetika said.

“No, they won’t.”

“Yes, yes, they will.”

Then call that minister you know there, Taylor said, changing tactics, and call me right back.

But the minister, Denise King-Miller, was out and didn’t hear Reetika’s message, “I think I’m going to hurt myself,” until several hours later.

An acquaintance Reetika was scheduled to lunch with on Thursday also got a confusing call. She was having an “emergency,” Reetika said, so the woman, a poet who knew Jane Shore and had a key to the house, should just let herself in. Her apparent role was to discover the bodies.

July 16 was the last day of her life. The bodies of Reetika and her son were found on July 18. The medical reports said method of murder was stabbing with knife. She committed suicide by slashing her own wrist with a kitchen knife. Child’s death was more violent. The child suffered stab wounds to his chest, neck and forearm, which penetrated his lungs and his heart.

Posthumous Book 

Reetika Vazirani’s posthumous collection of poetry ‘Radha Says’, was published in 2009.

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Courtesy: Murder Pedia, Encyclopedia, Blogs of Death, India Unfinished, Poets.org, Kavishala

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Let’s understand what is suicide? Suicide is defined as death caused by self-directed injurious behavior with intent to die.

According to Emile Durkheim ‘The more socially integrated and connected a person is, the less likely he or she is to commit suicide.’ His theory is based on the fact that social integration keeps the mental state in order and decreases the chances of committing the suicide.

Emile also demonstrated in his research that suicide has always been constant throughout all these years. While society and its members are constantly changing so are their reasons as to why suicide is the only option to partake in.

Suicide has been rapidly increasing among youth. According to certain reports, more than 700000 people die due to suicide every year around the world and suicide is the fourth leading cause of death among 15-19 years old. Approximately, 77% of global suicides occur in low and middle income countries.

Cause of suicide

Depression has played a huge role in suicide. Depression is a common and serious medical illness that even causes the death. Because the people suffer from depression and stress, suicide rate has jumped.

In view of increasing incidents of suicide, it is important to recognize underlying factors which affect the mental state of people and are associated with suicide rates. This is important to the construction of further research and for the opportunity to be able to properly treat and care for those who are being affected by these extraneous factors before suicidal ideation turns into suicide. Many people die every day because of suicide, therefore it is time to take a stand and investigate why these individuals think this is the only way to cope with stress, pain and monetary problems.

Komal Samo

Karachi Sindh

The post Why suicide cases are on the rise? first appeared on Sindh Courier.

This refers to the heart wrenching incident of young girl named Noshin Shah, 4^th year student of MBBS at Benazir Bhutto Medical University Larkana, who was found hanged in a hostel room.

It is second case of same nature that happened in the same university within three years. In first case, Nimrita Amarta Maherchandani, a BDS final year student at Bibi Aseefa Dental College was found dead in hanged position in her hostel room. It was later reported that she was sexually assaulted before her death and died due to asphyxiation. According to postmortem report prepared by Dr. Qarar Ahmed Abbasi, student Nimrita was murdered by strangulation after rape.

Deceased Nosheen was also found dead in her university hostel room in hanging position with ceiling fan.

Death of Nosheen roused questions in the minds. What did compel her to commit suicide? Or it may be different case as was of the Nimrita. The initial report of Nimrita was also that she has committed suicide but later when the case was investigated, the results appeared from the forensic and postmortem that Nimrita was raped and the murdered.

One cannot deny the fact that every suicide is considered as a murder. Why a girl felt to that extent that she must take her own life. There may be some mental pressure caused by the surrounding circumstances.

She might be victim of depression. It may be caused by failure of any sort. It could be psychological pressure or may be haunted by the blackmail by the teacher, administration or the boy having mean intentions.

The death of Nosheen has given birth to manifold questions on the society. She was sent to medical university to acquire education as the savior of the humanity but the venom of dejection took her own life.

Cases of such nature are disappointing and discouraging the parents and the girls to continue studying in the universities. They carry a hundred hopes that the daughter will qualify from medical university with a doctor’s degree and practice as a professional doctor.

This is observed with serious concern that the administration of varsity has failed to solve the problems of girl students who after being disappointed took the extreme action of the termination of life.

MBBS degree is very tough. It takes time and requires hard work day and night to qualify each year of the study. Some parents are very curious about the career of their daughters and spend their valuable property to educate them. But incidents of such nature are discouraging other parents to send their daughters to study to such universities. We are already facing low enrollment in education of girls. These cases are cause of complete failure of the system.

The government is urged to take a serious notice of such cases. Why the girl is always victim of such deaths? No justice has yet been given to the Nimrita and now we have the tragic incident of Nosheen. The university administration along with Vice Chancellor must be made accountable to draw the tangible results.

Our girls’ education is very much important to the society. If such cases continue taking place, then the parents will not feel confident to send them for study.   These cases are damaging the girls’ education in our society.

Mujeeb Ali Samo

Larkana Sindh

The post Suicide of medical student gives birth to many questions first appeared on Sindh Courier.

By INAARA GANGJI

The World Health Organization estimates that suicide is the cause of more than 700,000 deaths annually. Of these, over three in four occur in low- and middle-income countries.

In news coverage, there is worrying evidence that irresponsible reporting can lead to imitation suicides, said Klaudia Jázwińska, a journalist and researcher who analyzed articles from major news outlets on the passing of Dr. Lorna M. Breen to see how closely they adhered to suicide reporting guidelines.

Jázwińska was joined by J. Corey Feist, the co-founder of the Dr. Lorna Breen Heroes’ Foundation, Dr. Victor Schwartz, the CEO and director of the mental health support organization Mind Strategies, and Lorna Fraser, the executive lead at Samaritans’ Media Advisory Service during a recent ICFJ Global Health Reporting Forum webinar for a discussion on how journalists can best report on mental health and suicide.

“Everything that is a natural impulse for journalists when reporting a story is problematic when reporting on suicide,” said Schwartz. He explained that journalists should avoid identification, creating a narrative, and relatable and emotionally compelling angles in their reporting on the issue: “You don’t want to make the person heroic.”

Respecting the family

Dr. Lorna Breen, after whom the Dr. Lorna Breen Heroes’ Foundation is named, was the head of emergency at New York Presbyterian Allen Hospital. During the pandemic, she, like many other healthcare professionals, feared losing her medical license if she sought psychiatric help. “[She was] overwhelmed, but [there was] stigma associated with taking a break,” said Feist. Dr. Breen later lost her life to suicide.

While her family was coming to terms with her suicide, media coverage was overwhelming, and it failed to consider their feelings and privacy, said Feist. When Breen’s story became sensationalized, her family decided to tell it on their own terms: They created the Dr. Lorna Breen Heroes’ Foundation to advocate for the mental health of healthcare workers.

Though far from perfect, past reporting has spurred important conversations around how to have sensitive discussions about mental health and suicides in the U.S., said Schwartz. He further stressed that it is important to respect the sensitivities of family members when reporting on suicide.

The public health element

The risk of contagion, or imitation, suicides can be a consequence of sensationalized and irresponsible reporting, said Schwartz and Jázwińska. There was a 10% increase in suicides after the death of actor and comedian Robin Williams, for instance, due in part to the nature of the news coverage that followed, said Jázwińska.

Fraser explained that six decades of research shows links between certain elements of media coverage and suicide rates. This includes reporting that goes into detail about how the suicide happened, for instance. “How this comes about is through social learning. People who are more vulnerable to the effect are people who struggle with their mental health — people who are bereaved, particularly those who are bereaved by suicide and young people,” she said. “[They] over-identify with certain characteristics and circumstances, and may start to feel that [suicide] is a suitable option for them.”

Panelists mentioned the “Papageno effect,” which ties hopeful stories of handling times of crisis to falls in suicide rates: When covering suicide, journalists should instead focus on how people can seek help, resources and information about coping skills, they said.

“As long as [the reporting] is done responsibly and sensitively, the media can be a real force for good,” urged Fraser. “Being aware of media guidelines will really help you make sure your reports are as safe as possible.”

Suicide is preventable

Suicide can be prevented, said Jázwińska and Schwartz. “If you portray suicide as simple or inevitable, or as a crisis or epidemic, that’s an issue,” explained Schwartz.

Read more: Recommendations for reporting responsibly on suicide]

Suicide rates decreased slightly in the U.S. in 2020 during the pandemic, though they have increased among essential workers. There is also a blurred line between the symptoms of stress and anxiety and depression, added Schwartz.

“If someone is suicidal, that is often a temporary state. If they are given the resources, they will not follow down that path. Journalists are in a position to amplify positive messages and avoid repeating [reporting mistakes] in the future,” said Jázwińska.

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Courtesy: IJNET

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Over 100 male and female doctors of Badin district participated in training organized by Sindh Mental Health Authority

After Tharparkar, Badin district ranks second in suicide cases – Dr. Karim Khuwaja

Badin: After the Desert District Tharparkar, Sindh Mental Health Authority (SMHA) has now focused on imparting training to the doctors of Badin district on treating patients suffering from depression, the major cause of suicides.

The Badin district has been selected for the doctors’ training as according to the data collected by SMHA, this district ranks number two after Tharparkar in suicide cases.

In view of alarming rate of suicide cases in Tharparkar, the SMHA has imparted training to over 200 doctors and a large number of Health Workers and other staff of Tharparkar and launched Tele Help Service from Monday April 5. The health workers would visit remote villages of district to identify patients suffering from depression and other mental disorders to get them threated by doctors through tele help service.

Expanding the area of coverage to Badin district, the SMHA conducted a training workshop in Badin on Wednesday April 7 with participation of over one hundred male and female doctors from across the district. The theme of training workshop was ‘Recognition of Depression is prevention of suicide.’

“Since the recognition of depression is prevention of suicide, the SMHA has accelerated its efforts,” Dr. Karim Khuwaja, Chairman, Sindh Mental Health Authority, told Sindh Courier.

“The SMHA presented a situation analysis report regarding Badin district according to which Badin follows Tharparkar where highest number of suicide cases are reported, and in view of it, SMHA arranged training of doctors,” he said.

Professor Haider Naqvi of Dow University of Health Sciences Karachi along with Dr. Ali Wasif and Dr. Jameel Junejo delivered the lectures about depression and prevention of suicide.

The training workshop was organized with the support of District Health Officer Badin Dr. Liaquat Qambrani. PPP MPA Tanzeela Qambrani, who is the chairperson of Sindh Assembly’s Standing Committee on universities and colleges, also participated in this event.

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Sindh Courier

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