Today, October 10, is World Mental Health Day.
It was exactly 12.59 pm on November 26, 2022, when my phone rang. It was a call from Prague. It was brief but shattered my existence forever. I was informed of the unbearable truth that my elder brother had been found dead the previous day. No matter how unbelievable the news, I fiercely wished it was a mistake. But fate had brushed against our lives, leaving behind an emptiness that words can scarcely capture. With that call, the world had ceased to make sense.
The news was just the beginning, little did I know what awaited. It took me 39 days to get the autopsy report, which confirmed that he died by suicide. It took 50 days to repatriate him back to India for the cremation.
Since my senses have been restored, I have been wondering which is the more plaguing thought – that my brother is gone or that he died by suicide. Or perhaps it is the reality of society that I was not fully aware of, which has driven me to speak out. I would like to talk about the immense suffering and pain that is caused by the stigma, ignorance, and apathy that surrounds suicide and how this impacts those who are suicidal, suicide survivors, and those who lose their loved ones to suicide.
The author’s brother, Jayanta, in Prague. Photo: By arrangement.
In my family, mental health was never a stigma. Yet, we failed to recognise the warning signs in my brother, due to their unconventional nature. In his final hours, my brother was ignored by everyone he reached out to for help. Even though it was abundantly clear that he was not well and his statements were alarmingly concerning, no one bothered to follow up, offer assistance, or stay with him during those difficult times. I am setting aside the complexities and multi-level failures involved in driving him to that point. He didn’t fail. His family failed, and the entire society failed.
I am a software engineer in Bengaluru. I grew up in a small town named Krishnanagar in West Bengal. The town may not have been as advanced as Metro cities, but thanks to my brother, my childhood was filled with opportunities that few others had.
Jayanta, my brother, was a Prague-based board-certified doctor recognised by the Medical Council of India and the Medical Council of the Czech Republic, European Union. He was also a qualified nutritionist, a certified fitness trainer, and a bodybuilding instructor recognised by the Ministry of Education, Youth, and Sports in the Czech Republic. Long before any titles came his way, he was a hero to me. What really mattered to him was helping people and leaving an impact. He was the strongest and most optimistic person I knew. He defied convention and never fitted societal norms. His extroverted persona, profound multidisciplinary knowledge, and charming character always ensured that he was surrounded by people.
Since his passing, the people around him have vanished. Those who once relied on him for immediate health solutions began to view him as a failure.
A home that was always filled with visitors when my brother was alive saw no one from his school, college, professional life, or network after his departure. None of his friends – including those who he had contacted in his last hours – attended his funeral, nor did they visit our house. I am certain that this is because they heard that he died by suicide.
This is not just my brother’s story. Many other Jayantas who die by suicide are perceived as losers. It is a stigma beyond comprehension.
Every year, 1.7 lakh Indians die by suicide. Suicide is one of the leading causes of death globally among individuals aged 15-39. Till recently, attempting suicide was considered a crime. Those who did so were considered selfish, cowardly, losers, and so on. Those who die by suicide do so because they feel helpless, hopeless, worthless, and trapped with no way out. They simply want to end the immense emotional pain they are feeling – a pain that may not allow them to sleep, eat, or live a normal life.
Not all suicides stem from mental illness. Suicide occurs due to multiple risk factors, is a complex phenomenon, and may be triggered by sudden rejections, relationship issues, substance abuse, chronic illness, significant events, or external socioeconomic pressures. Getting help at the right time can help prevent suicides. What is most disheartening is that people who are pushed to such extremes are looked down upon instead of asking how we can provide better support. Do we hold the same view for cancer patients who die?
For those suicidal, only therapy and medication may not suffice. A robust support system is essential to provide ongoing assistance for those facing severe challenges. Unfortunately, guidelines or protocols for effective support are seldom shared. Additionally, psychiatrists frequently overlook discussing the potential side effects of prescribed medications. It is unacceptable not to inform patients that antidepressants could exacerbate depression or lead to suicidal ideation, even if the risk is minimal.
What my family endured should not happen to anyone else. And it starts with learning how to recognise signs of suicide and respond with care and kindness. Like the evidence-based suicide prevention “gatekeeper training” that the World Health Organization’s (WHO) recommends. Training gatekeepers will help spot signs, provide support, and persuade those who are suicidal to get help.
While transforming fundamental, deep-rooted beliefs is challenging and requires openness and willingness the key to success may lie in shifting individual perceptions for the better. There was a time when AIDS, menstruation, cancer, or leprosy, were considered taboo or steeped in stigma and those who were suffering didn’t get help. Since suicide is a public health crisis that impacts us all, we need a mass public service campaign that is spearheaded by the government and supported by civil society. As the theme for World Suicide Prevention Day (2024-26) reminds us, the narrative around suicide needs to change and we need to start the conversation now. The journey ahead is long, but the first step could start today to help those suicidal and those families who have lost their loved ones.
Jayeta Biswas is a software engineer.
If you know someone – friend or family member – at risk of suicide, please reach out to them. The Suicide Prevention India Foundation maintains a list of telephone numbers they can call to speak in confidence. Icall, a counselling service run by TISS, has maintained a crowdsourced list of therapists across the country. You could also take them to the nearest hospital.
