PANAJI
We grow up believing childhood is the one stretch of life where you’re allowed to breathe. Before deadlines define you. Before a fixed routine dictates your days. It’s meant to be about scraped knees, half-finished games and the comfort of knowing that failure carries no lasting cost. That idea feels increasingly distant.
For many children and teenagers today, the calendar is packed tighter than that of a working professional. School hours spill into tuition classes. Assignments overlap with competitive exam preparation. Even weekends are scheduled. Add parental expectations and the constant comparison amplified by social media, and childhood begins to look less like a phase of ease and more like a race that never really pauses.
Teachers who have recently transitioned from being students themselves and stepped into the profession say the pressure is not exaggerated. They have lived it from both sides of the desk.
Ravina Raut describes the day-to-day academic environment as “usually high because of regular tests, deadlines, and expectations to perform well.” According to her, the strain builds quietly. “Stress becomes harmful when the workload is too much, sleep is affected, and students feel tired or anxious all the time.”
Nidhi Lingudkar says the intensity is constant rather than occasional. “On a daily basis, academic pressure often feels constant. Even on normal days, there is this need to stay productive to avoid falling behind. That creates a low-level but persistent stress.” She draws a clear line between healthy challenge and harm. “It turns into harmful stress when the workload feels unmanageable, rest feels like guilt, and fear of failure outweighs curiosity. When students start associating self-worth only with grades, the balance has clearly tipped.”
Sakshi Kuber believes the pressure is shaped as much by expectations at home as by institutional systems. “Academic pressure is consistently high, driven by deadlines, evaluations, and performance expectations from parents,” she says, adding that it often leaves “little or no space for the child's personal or co-curricular growth.” In her view, how adults respond to setbacks makes a difference. “Academic challenges or failures, if not taken sportingly, can lead to harmful stress. Parents and teachers need to teach children acceptance, that learning and failure are part of life.”
Vidisha K, who has studied both within and outside the state before moving into teaching, argues that what makes the burden heavier is how normalized it has become. “Students are expected to constantly perform, meet deadlines, compete with peers, and plan for future careers all at once,” she says. “This intensity is treated as routine, something students are supposed to handle quietly.” She adds that healthy challenge crosses into danger “when learning shifts from curiosity to survival. At that point, performance may continue, but wellbeing quietly erodes.”
Most institutions today offer counselling and mentoring services. On paper, support systems exist. In practice, access and effectiveness vary.
“They exist, but they are not always easy to access or helpful when students need them most,” Ravina says.
Nidhi points to stigma and structural barriers. “Counselling systems may exist on paper, but accessibility and effectiveness vary. Stigma, limited availability, or fear of being judged often prevent students from using them fully. Support works best when it is proactive and normalized, not just reactive in crisis situations.”
Vidisha agrees that intent and implementation often diverge. “Long wait times and limited staffing prevent students from seeking help early. Support systems tend to step in only once distress has become severe.”
Sakshi maintains that mentoring can work, but trust is essential. “Counselling and mentoring help if the service is provided consistently and if the process involves both the mentor and the child. The child needs to trust that the mentor is there to guide them. When that happens, it is very effective.”
When asked whether institutions prioritise results over wellbeing, the responses are candid. “Most times, institutions focus more on marks and results than on students’ mental health,” Ravina says.
“In practice, institutional priorities lean toward grades, rankings, and measurable outcomes, while wellbeing is framed as an individual responsibility,” Vidisha notes.
Nidhi observes that wellbeing initiatives are often treated as secondary, creating a gap between what institutions claim to value and what students actually experience.
Sakshi is direct. “Institutions are in a race and tend to prioritise academic outcomes and rankings more than the wellbeing of their students.”
Yet none of them argue for lowering standards. The call is for structural reform, not diluted expectations.
Ravina suggests better spacing of exams and assignments, with fewer high-pressure tests and more continuous assessment. Nidhi and Vidisha both advocate rethinking evaluation patterns. “Fewer high-stakes exams and more evenly distributed assessments with meaningful feedback,” Nidhi says, explaining that this would maintain rigor while reducing last-minute anxiety. Vidisha adds that such a shift would allow students to recover from setbacks without feeling that one moment defines their entire academic trajectory.
Sakshi proposes a broader cultural change. “Promote learning by doing. Emphasise personal and professional growth. Encourage children to understand that experience matters more than just deadlines and societal accreditation,” she says. “They should not feel they are constantly running behind evaluation and performance expectations.”
Their perspective carries weight because it is recent and lived. They remember the anxiety of report cards and rankings. Now, standing at the front of the classroom, they see the same patterns repeating.
Childhood was meant to be a foundation, not a finish line. The challenge now is to ensure it does not feel like a race before life has even properly begun.
