– Shahjahan Magdum, Mumbai
This narrative is not merely an incident report; it is a mirror held up to our shared values, fears, and expectations. The heart-breaking fate of a young girl from a small village in Sangli district forces us to confront the silent terrors that lurk within homes, classrooms, and examination halls across India.
A Tragic Tale
In Nelkaranji, a quiet village in Atpadi taluka of Sangli district, Maharashtra, a heart-wrenching tragedy unfolded that jolts the collective conscience of our society. Seventeen-year-old Sadhana Bhosale, preparing for the NEET medical entrance exam with hope and determination, was beaten to death by her own father – not for defiance, but for scoring fewer marks in a mock test.
On Friday, 23rd June 2025, around 9:30 p.m., the questioning began. “Why did you score so low in your mock NEET test?” In a fit of rage, her father struck her repeatedly with a wooden stick. The assault was brutal, and Sadhana sustained severe injuries.
Despite her condition, she was not taken to hospital that night. The next morning, her father – a school principal named Dhondiram Bhosale – left early to observe International Yoga Day, leaving his unconscious daughter behind. It was only on Saturday morning that Sadhana was brought to a hospital, where doctors could do nothing but declare her dead. Her only “fault”: falling short in a practice exam.
This incident is not an isolated case of domestic violence; it is a piercing reflection of our broken academic culture, the tyranny of unrealistic parental expectations, and the widespread neglect of children’s emotional well-being.
The Numbers Behind the Grief
Sadhana’s death is part of a larger, disturbing pattern. According to the National Crime Records Bureau (NCRB) 2022 report, over 13,000 students in India died by suicide that year – about one every 40 minutes. Of these, 1,123 were under the age of 18, and their deaths were directly linked to exam failure. Among them, the gender breakdown was 578 girls and 575 boys.
In Maharashtra, the numbers are especially alarming. The state recorded 1,834 student suicides in 2021, and an estimated similar figure in 2022, with 378 of these deaths directly attributed to exam failure – the highest in India.
A stark comparison: In Kota, Rajasthan, a national hub for competitive exam coaching, 33 student suicides occurred in 2024 alone due to academic pressure – highlighting how deeply this crisis runs nationwide.
Furthermore, a UNICEF report reveals a significant cultural pattern: Indian parents and grandparents often place unrealistic expectations on children’s academic performance, which in turn leads to psychological and physical pressure. One study found that in rural India, 42% of mothers admitted to using severe physical punishment on children – largely tied to academic disappointments.
Another nationwide study found that 43% of school students experienced corporal punishment at least three times a week, with both parents and teachers responsible. In some cases, children were beaten for refusing to go to school, and in others, for scoring low marks. Despite legal prohibitions, such practices remain common, driven by the lingering mindset of “Spare the rod, spoil the child.”
Even in urban Maharashtra, studies show that corporal punishment remains prevalent. This reflects a disturbing reality: academic success is often falsely equated with a child’s moral worth – and failure is seen not as a stepping stone, but as a shameful stigma.
The Legal and Moral Reckoning
India’s Right to Education Act, 2009, under Section 17, explicitly bans corporal punishment in schools. In addition, the Ministry of Education’s 2021 “Guidelines on School Safety and Security” reinforced this prohibition and emphasised student well-being.
In Sadhana’s case, following her tragic death, the police promptly registered a case against her father under Section 103(1) of the Indian Penal Code and Section 75 of the Juvenile Justice (Care and Protection of Children) Act, which deals with cruelty to children by caregivers.
Yet, these laws cannot undo what has already been lost. The tragedy reflects how laws without awareness, enforcement, and cultural change can only go so far.
The Human Cost of Expectations
Sadhana’s death didn’t occur in a vacuum. It stemmed from entrenched cultural beliefs that equate academic excellence with social status. In villages and cities alike, parents often tie their children’s performance to their own societal standing: “Sharma-ji’s son cracked IIT,” or “The neighbour’s daughter topped NEET.” Such comparisons fuel toxic expectations and crush children’s self-worth.
Sadhana’s father, a principal himself, failed to recognise his daughter as a person with feelings, hopes, and fears. He reduced her to a mark sheet. Her mother and brother, silent witnesses, did not step in. She lay in pain through the night, and by the time help arrived, it was too late.
The deepest failure here is the lack of dialogue. Between parents and children, between teachers and students, between society and its future citizens. What was needed was understanding, not judgment; guidance, not punishment.
Beyond Marks: A Moral Imperative
In today’s world, career opportunities are abundant and diverse – ranging from data science, AI, and design, to content creation and social entrepreneurship. Yet, many families cling to the traditional doctor-engineer paradigm. If Sadhana had been allowed to explore her own interests, might her story have ended differently?
Her case reminds us: children are not grade points – they are people. To support them in their struggles, to nurture their uniqueness, and to protect their dignity is a responsibility we all share.
ALSO READ: What is Sadhna’s Crime?
The government, schools, and civil society must respond proactively:
- Parent counselling sessions should be mandatory.
- Mental health support must be normalised in schools.
- Awareness campaigns should emphasise that success is multidimensional, and that every child learns – and dreams – differently.
Sadhana’s death is not just one girl’s story. It is the story of thousands, perhaps millions, who live under the silent terror of expectation. It is a mirror held up to our collective conscience.
Let us not wait for another such tragedy to rethink our values. Let us talk to our children. Let us listen – not just to their grades, but to their hearts.
Because children don’t just fail.
They are failed – when we stop listening.
[The author is Senior Journalist and Executive Editor of SHODHAN – The Marathi weekly published from Mumbai]
