29-Jul-2013 
NEHA BHATT 


What makes industrious Jabalpur the city with India's highest suicide  rate? 
Jeet Sharma, 27 - Under treatment for depression, he now practises meditation
JABALPUR : On most days, Jabalpur's well-known Tilwara  bridge, on the route to 
Nagpur, makes a fetching picture. The Narmada gushes far  below, dark hills 
rise at one end of the bridge, the other end a sea of green  that seals from 
view the grimy city of Jabalpur beyond. But in 'suicide season',  as locals 
casually call the months between April and July, when exam results are  
generally declared, this bridge turns deadly, becoming the city's preferred  
'khudkhushi point', tempting scores of young men and women to go over the rails 
 and into the swirling waters below.

This doesn't raise many eyebrows in Jabalpur anymore, for the phenomenon has  
been all too routinised. In fact, the National Crime Records Bureau's suicide  
statistics reveal a chilling fact: Jabalpur tops the list of Indian cities, 
with  nearly 50 suicides a month and a suicide rate of 45.1 for every 1,000 
people in  the city, beating 52 other big cities like Bangalore, Chennai, Pune, 
Delhi and  Mumbai. Jabalpur clocked 572 suicides in 2012, up from 351 the year 
before.  Local papers reduce news of daily suicides to single column stories, 
though  recently the local channel, Sahara Samay MP, aired an hour-long special 
feature  on the depressing trend, titled 'Jabalpur: Suicide Capital'. "The 
local media  haven't fully caught on to the gravity of the situation. There are 
hardly any  discussions on the problem, not even among NGOs," says Harpreet 
Kaur, who  produced the show. 

But what makes Jabalpur such a grim city to live in? Amit  Mishra, 17, a 
student in a private school who tried to commit suicide early this  month, has 
a ready answer: "This is not a city that can support my dreams and my  parents 
don't understand that. I failed my Class XII this year and father wants  me to 
pursue engineering when all I want is to go to Mumbai and try my luck as  an 
actor," says the young man, lying in the ICU at the city's National Hospital,  
where several beds are reserved under the 'poison unit', meant for treating an  
overwhelming number of residents who consume poison to try to end it all.
Amit  Mishra, 17, Jabalpur wouldn't support his dreams, so he took naphthalene  
balls. ( Photograph by Jitender Gupta)  Amit swallowed naphthalene balls on the 
night of  July 1 and and was brought to the hospital by his parents the next 
day. In an  eerie reality TV-like dramatisation of his deathwish, he tells us 
about a  suicide note he has composed, noting that his case should be featured 
on Crime  Patrol, a TV show. He pulls out his wallet and points to two photos, 
one showing  a dusky, shy-looking boy, the other the grown-up, better-­groomed 
version. "Can  you believe this? So dark-skinned and mousy. Look at how I have 
worked on  myself. I have high aspirations, I want expensive phones, a job in 
the movies, I  just need my parents to let me go."

His father steps in to inquire after his health,  but the young boy won't talk 
to him. Outside, the father, Satyendra Mishra, is  in tears: "I'm just a 
worried father. What did I do wrong? I have a job in a  clothing company, but 
I've tried to give him all he ever wanted. In return, I  ask him to focus, not 
be wayward. But I guess we failed to understand him."  

Across from Amit's bed twentysomething Meena Kumar lies unconscious. She  is in 
a critical condition. Her husband Naren, a pharmacist, claims she  swallowed 
four unknown antibiotics "by mistake". A few beds down, Dhiren Singh,  28, who 
consumed Celphos pesticide the day before, writhes in pain and is  delirious. 
He is watched over by his brother, whom doctors have told that Dhiren  won't 
survive the day. Asked why he took the drastic step, his brother Viru  shrugs, 
saying he may have been unhappy as he didn't have a regular job, but  couldn't 
be sure as they weren't close enough. 


Meena Kumar, 20+, Reason unknown, but she tried  to kill herself by swallowing 
"medicines". ( Photograph by Jitender  Gupta) Jabalpur, the army nerve-centre 
of Madhya  Pradesh, could well resemble any other Indian small town in the 
midst of a badly  managed transition. As a chaotic traffic system gives way to 
a regularised bus  service, single screen halls make way for multiplexes, local 
markets compete  with the new 'Big Bazaar' mall in town, old and new mindsets 
battle it out. But  below the surface, the city hasn't kept up with the pace of 
its people, those  with big city aspirations. "People are taking extreme 
measures here at the drop  of a hat, and one of the reasons could be the 
breakdown of the joint family.  Petty domestic quarrels become bigger because 
you have no one to sort things  out. Plus, the working population here is 
solely dependent on government jobs,  such as those at the Gun Carriage 
Factory, Vehicle Factory or Indian Ordnance  Factory, with few industries and 
hardly any avenues in the private sector," says  Harinarayanachari Mishra, SP 
for the district. "Who knows, but reading about  suicides everyday in the 
newspapers could be setting off a chain reaction,  becoming the obvious 
response to any problem, big or small."
A large chunk of the suicide victims are students and young housewives,  
according to police figures. Dr Hema Sahu, one of the few clinical 
psychologists  in the city, says, "Most of my patients are aged 16-30, as this 
is the stage  when you want the whole world with as little effort as possible. 
I regularly  have newly-married women whose expectations from marriage are 
different from  what it is in reality, students who feel isolated in this city, 
kids who cannot  communicate with their parents. I'm not surprised I have three 
times the number  of patients coming to me than two years ago, because the 
opportunities here are  sorely missing and dissatisfaction levels are so high."
***
Worry Not, This Fan Is  Suicide-Proof Dr  R.S. Sharma's invention can save 
on-the-brink lives  

The  doctor's assistant demonstrates. The noose is around his neck. He hops off 
the  supporting stool, but with any load more than 25 kilos... ..the 
spring-loaded  suspension gives way. At worst, he'll be hurt by the fall.
***
Dr R.S. Sharma, a cardiologist who is well-regarded in town, says, "If  
Jabalpur's residents are not inspired to realign their mindsets, at least let's 
 make it tougher for them to take their own lives." Sharma has invented a  
"suicide-proof fan", struck by the spate of death-by-hanging cases, especially  
by hostellers. Sharma's assistant uses a stool and a sample fan to demonstrate. 
 It's a simple device, really, where the springs give if anything heavier than 
25  kilos is hung from the fan. "It costs just Rs 450-600 more than a regular 
fan  and the idea was that, just as there is a safety device in every machine, 
why  not have one in a fan, which is one of the most common methods of suicide 
here,"  says Sharma, who has filed for a patent and received an order for 1,000 
pieces  from the Union ministry of science and technology.

Gynaecologist Pushpa Pande, who also counsels in her free time, prefers  
attacking the root cause, which she elaborates as rising self-esteem issues in  
an "inferior city". Jabalpur is a city in deep conflict, she says, much more  
than other metros. "Youngsters want to explore a more experimental life, but 
the  older generation hasn't welcomed change. TV is probably the only source of 
 entertainment here, encouraging artificial expectations, which leads to  
widespread depression when those expectations are not met," explains Pande, who 
 hosts a batch of medical students every morning in the meditation hall at her  
home to deal with stress.

One of her patients, 27-year-old Jeet Sharma, under medication for chronic  
depression, continues to struggle with "small-town boy" image issues. "I used 
to  see my Facebook friends put up posts about travelling all over the world 
and I  used to ask myself, why not me?" Jeet asks. While Jabalpur may be a 
tier-2 city  on paper, it feels far from one.

Despite a few well-intentioned interventions, Jabalpur grapples with  bigger 
issues at the moment. In the narrow, busy lanes of the city's Saraafa  Bazaar, 
where Hitendra Srivastava lives in a modest two-storey house, the lack  of good 
medical care continues to haunt the 35-year-old government school  teacher. He 
lost his younger brother, Tijendra, in March this year. He had hung  himself 
from the ceiling fan in his bedroom. Hitendra seats himself on a plastic  chair 
from where he can look out the main door on to the street. "This is where  my 
brother liked to sit the entire day, not saying much. He was diagnosed with  
schizophrenia in 2006, and I used to take him to the Institute of Mental Health 
 in Agra every month for checkups. If we had better access to medical 
facilities  right here in Jabalpur, he could have been saved."

The city, about 300 km from the state capital Bhopal, has touristic potential  
in Bedaghat, the site famous for marble rocks that rise dramatically on either  
side of the Narmada, the picturesque Dhuandhar falls, and a few important  
temples. The city also serves as the nerve-centre of many bus and railway 
lines,  with a tiny airport offering daily flights to Delhi and Mumbai. But the 
joke  here goes that only outbound trains and flights go full as everyone only 
wants  to flee.

Yet, not everyone is convinced that there is anything particularly amiss in  
Jabalpur. Rakesh Singh, BJP mp from the city, says he was surprised to learn  
about its suicide figures. "There has been a lot of development here in the 
last  7-8 years, in terms of connectivity, growth, education. Perhaps societal 
changes  are the reason." Indeed, despite its somewhat lethargic functioning, 
Jabalpur is  something of an education hub in Madhya Pradesh, third in line 
after Bhopal and  Indore, with a number of engineering and medical 
institutions. With a high  student population from smaller districts of Madhya 
Pradesh and neighbouring  states, there is clearly a rising sense of youth 
disillusionment. Geeta Gupta, a  26-year-old medical student from Rajasthan, 
has lived in Jabalpur for the last  eight years and studies at N.S.C.B. Medical 
College, located on the outskirts.  But increasing pressure at college and no 
emotional outlet-either in the form of  counselling or an ambience of 
downtime­-has led to deep depression. Geeta fights  suicidal thoughts, 
confiding in nobody. "When I was interning last year, I'd  come across 4-5 
cases of attempted suicide daily. That shook me up, helped me  get a 
perspective, and seek help. I didn't want to end up like that," she  says.

Dr O.P. Raichandani, a psychiatrist, admits Jabalpur is terribly low on  
medical resources to deal with the rising number of patients. "Awareness of  
psychiatry and psychotherapy is low, helplines are few, there are no full-time  
psychiatric wards. All this could build up to such a high suicide rate, but 
it's  also possible the rate of suicide reporting is higher than other cities," 
he  says.

What little counselling facilities the town has are rather arbitrary, with  
hardly any follow-ups; psychologists often don't even keep records of patients  
who consult them. "Jabalpur has what you could call an inferiority complex.  
Compared to Indore and Bhopal, cities that are better planned, Jabalpur is a  
society in turmoil," says Gyan Prakash, a social science professor at Devi  
Ahilya Vishwavidyalaya, Indore. What is also missing, adds Mishra, the SP, is a 
 sense of public outrage. "As a society, we are not reacting strongly enough. 
At  the police end, we are planning a seminar on suicides with the help of the  
Jabalpur Foundation," he says. "Through the initiative, we will encourage  
students to communicate, and schools and colleges to keep counsellors close at  
hand."

Meanwhile, Jabalpur could do well to remember these immortal lines by  Dorothy 
Parker:
Razors  pain you, 
Rivers are damp, 
Acids stain you, 
And drugs cause cramp.  
Guns aren't lawful, 
Nooses give, 
Gas smells awful, 
You might as  well live. 
(Names of patients have been changed) 
***
Cities With The Highest Suicide  Rates Jabalpur 45.1  Kollam 40.5  Rajkot 30.5 
(Annual figures of suicides per 1,000 people living in the city or  town.) 
***
Top Causes Of Suicide*  Domestic quarrels  Mental/physical illness  Censure  
Affairs gone wrong  Failure in exams  Substance abuse ***
Top Modes Of Suicide  Hanging  Poisoning  Self-immolation  Drowning  Lying on 
railway tracks 
Source: Latest National Crime Records Bureau, Jabalpur police  stats 



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