When news broke that 14-year-old Numan, a student at Kashmir Harvard School, had taken his own life, it hit home for many of us.

His tattoos, reportedly the reason he was harassed by school staff, weren’t unusual for someone his age. For a teenager exploring identity, ink on skin can be a way to feel seen. But instead of curiosity or conversation, Numan met ridicule and shame.

He was called immoral. Deviant. And eventually, he couldn’t bear it anymore.

The tragedy forced Kashmiris to confront an uncomfortable truth: our schools, especially the elite ones, aren’t always safe. They prize order. They demand conformity. But they rarely protect children from humiliation, or allow space for difference.

People are speaking now. But when I was a student, they didn’t.

Back in the 1990s and early 2000s, I was among the “lucky” ones. I had made it to one of the top schools in the Valley. My parents were proud. Neighbours admired us. But inside the gates, behind that polished reputation, was a reality no one talked about.

We were hit. Slapped for speaking in class. Kicked for forgetting homework. Made to stand for hours. Sometimes caned. Always afraid. The class monitor, a fellow student, would note down the names of “noisy” kids. That list was our death sentence. Teachers would go down the line, punishing each one.

Once, I begged my monitor to skip my name. He didn’t. I remember the sting on my cheek. I didn’t cry until I got home.........

© Kashmir Observer