Prof. Shyam Narayan Lal
In the corridors of India’s higher education institutions-esteemed universities, sprawling engineering campuses, and vibrant liberal arts colleges-there exists an invisible crisis that is quietly taking a toll on our students. This crisis is not about infrastructure or pedagogy alone. It is about something more intimate and more urgent: the mental health of our students. As academic competition intensifies and societal pressures deepen, young learners across the country are experiencing unprecedented levels of stress. The numbers are telling, but the stories behind them are even more distressing.
According to a 2023 survey conducted by the National Institute of Mental Health and Neurosciences (NIMHANS), nearly three out of four Indian college students reported experiencing moderate to severe stress, largely driven by academic burden, uncertainty about the future, and familial expectations. The pandemic worsened this already fragile ecosystem. Online learning, social isolation, and economic disruptions created a perfect storm, leaving students feeling disconnected, fatigued, and overwhelmed. In fact, during the peak of the pandemic, over 62% of students surveyed in Indian universities admitted they were unable to manage stress effectively in the virtual learning environment. The long-term implications of this collective psychological distress cannot be ignored.
Importantly, not all students are affected equally. Female students often face a unique set of challenges-juggling academic ambition with entrenched gender norms and societal expectations. A significant 65% of them report stress-related disorders, compared to 52% of their male counterparts. Similarly, first-generation learners and those from marginalized communities struggle with financial hardship, lack of social capital, and institutional alienation. For these students, college is not just a place of learning-it is also a site of social navigation, cultural negotiation, and emotional vulnerability.
Yet, despite the mounting data and the lived experiences of students, institutional response remains limited. While a handful of elite institutions have established counselling centres and wellness programs, the vast majority of colleges -especially in rural and semi-urban areas-lack even the most basic mental health infrastructure. Where counselling is available, it is often delivered in English, inaccessible to many students for whom regional languages are a more comfortable medium. Moreover, the stigma around mental health, deeply rooted in social attitudes, discourages students from seeking help. Clearly, conventional, Western-oriented mental health models need to be adapted to the Indian context.
This is where India’s own intellectual and cultural traditions offer immense promise. The Indian Knowledge System (IKS)-an evolving repository of spiritual, philosophical, and psychological insights-offers a treasure trove of tools for inner well-being. Long before psychology emerged as a modern science, Indian texts and traditions had already articulated sophisticated methods of emotional regulation, self-awareness, and stress reduction.
Take the practice of Yoga and Pranayama, for instance. Far from being mere physical exercises, these are deeply therapeutic systems rooted in the principle of harmony between the body and the mind. Research has shown that regular practice of yogic breathing and mindfulness reduces cortisol levels, improves attention span, and fosters emotional balance.
Similarly, the ancient principle of Sanyam-self-restraint or emotional discipline-as found in the Yoga S?tras of Patañjali, offers an alternative to impulsivity and anxiety. By cultivating Sanyam, students learn not to be overwhelmed by success or failure, but to maintain equanimity in the face of both. The Bhagavad G?t?, often referred to as a manual for life management, teaches: “Elevate yourself by your own self; do not degrade yourself.” This is not religious instruction; it is psychological insight articulated in timeless verse.
A thoughtful glance at the ancient Gurukul system reveals timeless insights for contemporary higher education. Far from being archaic, the Gurukul tradition embodied a deeply humane pedagogy-one that nurtured the emotional, moral, and spiritual growth of students alongside academic learning. Shishyas lived with their guru not merely to acquire knowledge, but to internalize values, discipline, and life skills through shared living and mentorship. Education was not transactional; it was relational, experiential, and anchored in care and dialogue.
Unlike today’s competitive and impersonal academic environments, the Gurukul honoured each student’s unique pace and potential. Teachers closely observed and guided students holistically-as thinkers, emotional beings, and ethical agents-adapting methods with compassion and insight. This bond, grounded in shraddh? (faith) and mutual respect, made early identification and resolution of stress natural.
The curriculum, too, was balanced-merging intellectual rigour with practices like Vyayam (physical exercise), Dhy?na (meditation), and Sev? (community service), while integrating music, storytelling, and the arts as vital tools of emotional expression. It was a model that valued rhythm, silence, and inner balance-qualities often missing in today’s education.
What makes the Gurukul model strikingly relevant is its emphasis on personalised mentorship, integrated learning, and ethical reflection-principles well-suited to address the stressors in modern HEIs. Reimagining this system today means empowering faculty not only as subject experts but also as mentors, trained in emotional intelligence, cultural empathy, and the art of upadesha-gentle, wisdom-led guidance.
Institutionally, several interventions are both possible and necessary. First, the establishment of multilingual, culturally sensitive counselling services should be made mandatory in all HEIs. Trained psychologists who understand caste, gender, and class-based nuances can provide far more effective support. Second, universities should consider reworking their assessment structures. The reliance on high-stakes, end-semester examinations often fuels anxiety. A move towards continuous internal assessments, flexible grading, and project-based learning can significantly alleviate this pressure.
Third, dedicated Centres for Happiness orAnandam: The Centre for Happiness-such as the pioneering one established at IIM Jammu-can be developed as institutional hubs to cultivate holistic well-being. These centres go beyond occasional workshops by offering structured and research-informed programs in yoga, meditation, nature therapy, expressive arts, and reflective dialogue. At IIM Jammu, Anandam has evolved into a vibrant ecosystem of innovation in the field of student well-being, introducing a spectrum of initiatives that combine traditional wisdom with contemporary needs. Its portfolio includes digital detoxification sessions designed to address screen fatigue, modules on “inner engineering” that foster self-awareness and resilience, and even light-hearted yet impactful activities like Zumba sessions that use movement and rhythm to build community spirit and reduce stress. Together, such centres embody a comprehensive approach-anchoring happiness not as an extracurricular luxury but as an essential dimension of academic and personal growth.
These are not add-ons but essential pillars of holistic learning.The digital interventions like mobile applications with guided meditations, regional language CBT modules, and motivational content drawn from Indian texts can bridge the access gap, especially for students in remote areas. Offline capabilities should be prioritized to address the digital divide.
It is also important that awareness campaigns to destigmatize mental health and promote help-seeking behaviour must be woven into institutional culture. Student clubs, peer mentoring groups, and orientation programs can all contribute to building emotionally literate campuses.
It is time we recognize that well-being is not a luxury but a prerequisite for effective learning. When students are mentally healthy, they are more productive, innovative, and collaborative. They contribute more meaningfully to their communities and are better prepared for the uncertainties of life beyond campus.
In its quest to become a knowledge superpower, India must not overlook the psychological health of its young learners. We have the data, we have the institutional frameworks, and we have a civilizational inheritance that prizes harmony, resilience, and inner peace. The answers we seek are not always in the West. They are embedded in the very traditions we have long forgotten.
As the G?t? reminds us, “Karmanyevadhikarastem?phale?hukad?cana”-we are entitled to action, but not to its fruits. Perhaps this wisdom, understood not as resignation but as freedom from paralyzing anxiety, is what Indian students need most today. Not just to survive education, but to thrive through it.
(The writer is Chairperson, Anadam IIM Jammu)
