“The official responses so far have been predictable. Police investigations have been announced. The institute has issued condolences and urged students to seek counseling. Now, Chief Minister Pramod Sawant has stepped in, announcing the formation of a committee under the South Goa Collector to look into the matter. While this may bring some immediate attention, the question remains: will yet another committee suffice?
Experience tells us that committees, however well-intentioned, often become exercises in delay rather than instruments of change. Reports are written, recommendations are drafted, and then they are quietly shelved. The urgency of the present crisis demands more than paperwork. Five deaths in a single campus within a year should trigger not only investigation but visible reform, both in institutional policy and in the culture of student support.”
The death of a 20-year-old student, Rishi Nair, at BITS Pilani’s Goa campus is not an isolated tragedy. It is the fifth such death in less than a year. Each of these young lives was full of potential, cut short in circumstances that should force the institution, its administrators, and the wider public to ask hard questions. When deaths repeat with this frequency in a single academic community, silence and perfunctory condolences are not enough. What is happening at one of India’s most prestigious private universities is symptomatic of a deeper, systemic crisis.
The timeline is chilling. In December 2024, a second-year student died by suicide. In March, another young man, a third-year dual-degree student, followed. By May, a family alleged foul play after their son’s sudden death. In August, a third-year student was found lifeless in his hostel room, with traces of medicine detected later. Now, in September, Nair is gone. Each case differs in detail, but the accumulation tells a story of recurring loss. Students are dying at a rate that should alarm even the most detached observer.
The official responses so far have been predictable. Police investigations have been announced. The institute has issued condolences and urged students to seek counseling. Now, Chief Minister Pramod Sawant has stepped in, announcing the formation of a committee under the South Goa Collector to look into the matter. While this may bring some immediate attention, the question remains: will yet another committee suffice?
Experience tells us that committees, however well-intentioned, often become exercises in delay rather than instruments of change. Reports are written, recommendations are drafted, and then they are quietly shelved. The urgency of the present crisis demands more than paperwork. Five deaths in a single campus within a year should trigger not only investigation but visible reform, both in institutional policy and in the culture of student support.
At the heart of this crisis is a troubling silence about mental health. For too long, Indian campuses have treated student struggles as isolated lapses rather than systemic issues. Young people are under enormous pressure. They leave home, adapt to unfamiliar environments, compete in intensely demanding programs, and navigate the social and emotional turbulence of their late teens and early twenties. For many, especially in high-achieving spaces like BITS, the burden of expectations—whether from family, peers, or self—can become overwhelming.
The problem is not unique to BITS Goa. IITs, NITs, and other elite campuses across the country have seen an alarming number of student deaths in recent years. What distinguishes institutions is how they respond. Do they treat each death as a private tragedy, or do they recognize a pattern that requires systemic reform? At present, BITS appears to be leaning toward the former.
The families of students deserve transparency. What exactly is being investigated in each case? What were the warning signs? What support was offered, and was it enough? It is not enough for the institution to say it will cooperate with police inquiries. The responsibility to protect students is not outsourced to law enforcement or even to a government-appointed committee. It lies first with the university.
Above all, BITS must confront the mental health crisis head-on. That means creating safe spaces for students to talk about their struggles without fear of judgment. It means hiring trained counselors who are not mere figureheads but are integrated into campus life. It means training faculty and hostel wardens to recognize warning signs. It means embedding mental well-being into the fabric of student life rather than treating it as an afterthought.
Five deaths in a year is not a statistical anomaly. It is a red siren. If an engineering lab saw the same rate of fatal accidents, the entire system would be shut down until safety was assured. Student lives demand no less urgency.
The Chief Minister’s committee might deliver answers. But unless it is followed by structural reforms within the campus, real investments in student wellbeing, and a change in how institutions value mental health, it will remain another file in a drawer. Rishi Nair’s death, and those before him, should not become mere case numbers in a report. They are warnings. Ignore them, and we risk normalising the avoidable loss of young lives.
