To: The Ministry of Education, Government of India; the University Grants Commission; the National Medical Commission; state education departments; and other responsible education authorities.

 

Education should help children discover their potential—not exhaust them before their lives have even begun
I was born in 1994 and grew up in Panipat, Haryana, in a middle-class family. I was a curious child, and from an early age, I wanted to become a doctor—not because of pressure from my parents or society, but because I was genuinely fascinated by the human body.

Around 2009, when I was still in school, my grandmother became paralysed. I saw her go from living an active life to becoming permanently dependent on others. It disturbed me deeply and made me question what life means without a healthy body. At the same time, I became fascinated by the human brain: how it controls movement, communication, memory and nearly everything we do.

I wanted to study medicine and eventually specialise in neuroscience.

Like lakhs of students in India, I was told that the way to achieve this dream was to prepare for competitive entrance examinations.

My father was the only earning member of our family, and he had three children to support. My parents did everything they could to send us to one of the best schools in our city. I saw how difficult it sometimes was for my father to pay our school fees on time. There were occasions when the school reminded me that the deadline had passed. Sometimes, I entered a new class with an empty schoolbag because buying all the new books immediately was difficult.

We were still more fortunate than many poorer families in India. Yet even for us, education was a continuous financial struggle.

School education was already expensive. Then came the cost of entrance-examination preparation.

No one in my family had studied science or knew how medical entrance examinations worked. I tried to understand everything myself. I asked my teachers how I should prepare. Meanwhile, many of the highest-scoring students in my class had enrolled in specialised coaching institutes in Delhi. Every weekend, they travelled almost 100 kilometres from Panipat to Delhi in cabs filled with students.

Some students joined “dummy schools,” lived in Delhi and spent most of their time studying in coaching institutes instead of attending regular classes.

I asked about the cost of these options. They were beyond my family’s budget.

I was a sensitive child, and I did not want to place even more pressure on my father. He was already doing his best to provide us with a good education. I decided not to join expensive coaching and focused on what was taught in school during Class 11.

I had always loved self-study and spending time with books. But I was repeatedly made to feel that self-study was not enough.

Eventually, my father enrolled me in a nearby coaching institute in Panipat for the state medical entrance examinations, which were later replaced by NEET. My days were spent at school, and my evenings were spent in coaching classes. By the time I returned home, I had no energy left for independent study.

Everyone around me said:

“This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.”

“Give it everything.”

“This examination will decide your future.”

My parents felt proud when they saw me surrounded by entrance-examination books. I also began to believe that this was the correct way to live: do not play, do not explore, do not develop hobbies and do not rest. Just study constantly and prove your worth through an examination.

By the end of the year, I was completely exhausted.

Along with physics, chemistry and biology, I also had mathematics as a subject. Because almost all my time was spent preparing for medical entrance examinations, I could not prepare properly for mathematics. I eventually had to leave the coaching classes and focus on my board examination because I feared failing the subject.

I barely passed mathematics.

As expected, I did not qualify for the state medical entrance examination.

I remember travelling to Chandigarh with my father for an AIIMS entrance examination. I had studied constantly, but during the examination, I was so exhausted that I fell asleep for some time.

I failed the entrance examinations.

Suddenly, people looked at me as though I had failed in life.

My parents remained supportive. They encouraged me to take another attempt, and my father even offered to send me to Kota for coaching. I refused. When he asked what else I wanted to do, I had no answer.

I was blank.

Until that point, I had seen only one possible future: clear the entrance examination and study MBBS. Nobody had helped me explore a Plan B. Nobody had told me about the many other possibilities available to a student interested in science.

My father bought the first laptop our family had ever owned. I spent hours searching online to understand what else I could study with science subjects.

Medical education in a private college was financially impossible for us. I also did not want to join an engineering college simply because I had studied mathematics. After exploring different options, I realised that I was deeply interested in physics. I also learned about courses such as biomedical sciences, zoology, botany and chemistry.

Delhi University appeared to be the nearest affordable and reputed option. I had never even visited Delhi before. I learned that admission cut-offs were extremely high. My overall marks were around 80%, partly because of my low mathematics score, but I applied anyway.

Fortunately, during that period, the introduction of the four-year undergraduate programme affected the admission cut-offs. I received admission to a Physics Honours course.

I still remember travelling with my father for the admission process. His business was not doing well, and we had sold our only car. We travelled by Haryana Roadways bus and sat on the cover of the bus engine because there were no empty seats.

When I reached the college, I was disappointed. The building looked old and neglected, and the toilets were dirty and unpleasant. I wanted to leave. But my father stood firmly beside me and encouraged me to remain in the long admission queue.

I got the admission.

I became the first person in my family to study physics and the first girl in my family to leave our home city for higher education.

This was shortly after the Nirbhaya case, when fear about women’s safety in Delhi was present in almost every household. My father nevertheless showed courage and trusted me to live and study independently.

That decision changed my life.

During my bachelor’s degree, I discovered a love for physics. I made lifelong friends who studied with me, laughed with me and encouraged my ambitions. However, even then, I could not simply enjoy learning. From the first year, I was already worried about the next entrance examination.

To pursue a master’s degree, I had to prepare for IIT JAM.

When I visited IIT Delhi during a technology festival and attended a lecture by Walter Lewin, I became highly motivated. I saw students experimenting, building and flying drones. I decided that I wanted to study at an IIT.

But once again, my interest, effort and curiosity were not enough. Everything depended on my rank in another entrance examination.

This time, I started preparing early. My bachelor’s degree fees were affordable, but living in Delhi was expensive, and my father continued to bear the cost. I felt a great responsibility to make the best use of his money.

I cleared IIT JAM, but my rank was not high enough to obtain the course and institution I had hoped for. I joined NIT Jalandhar for an MSc in Physics.

My master’s programme introduced me to many areas of physics, and I eventually became interested in nuclear physics. I wanted to pursue a PhD in the subject.

But again, the next stage of my education depended on another examination: NET-JRF or GATE.

I could not prepare properly for these examinations alongside my MSc coursework. After completing my master’s degree, I returned to Panipat and tried to find teaching work while preparing for the exams. I was told that I could not teach in a school because I did not have a B.Ed. degree.

After years of education and an MSc in Physics, I was sitting at home unemployed.

I locked myself in a room and prepared for GATE and JRF. I came out mainly to eat or use the washroom. My family knew I was struggling, but they continued to support me.

I did not clear JRF, but I cleared GATE.

My rank was not high enough to get the PhD opportunity I wanted. I decided that I could not spend another year preparing for yet another examination, so I applied to every suitable programme I could find.

Only then did I learn that an MSc Physics graduate could pursue several interesting fields, including photonics, materials science, atmospheric science and agricultural meteorology. Why had no one explained these pathways to me earlier?

I received admission to an MTech programme in Photonics at Cochin University of Science and Technology in Kerala. The programme was affordable, and I would receive a stipend.

My father immediately supported the decision.

My mother sold her gold bangles to help fund my travel and admission expenses. It was the first time my brother and I travelled by air and the first time we went so far from Haryana.

I settled in Kerala and was warmly welcomed. Shortly afterwards, I received an offer from the waiting list for the same programme at IIT Roorkee. During this uncertain and confusing period, one of the professors at CUSAT guided me and said, “IITs are institutions of national importance, and you may find broader opportunities there.”

I did not have enough money to leave Kerala and take admission in Roorkee. A close friend lent me the amount I needed and told me to take the opportunity.

I joined IIT Roorkee.

There, I met an excellent teacher who introduced me to optical fibres. The research component of my MTech allowed me to understand what scientific research actually meant and helped me identify the field in which I wanted to build my career.

I later applied for a PhD position at the Technical University of Denmark because its topic closely matched my master’s research. I was selected for a salaried PhD position.

At the same time, my family faced a severe health crisis.

During the second wave of COVID-19, my father became seriously ill. He experienced nausea, itching and loss of appetite. After reviewing his old medical reports, I learned that he had advanced chronic kidney disease.

There was no nephrologist available to us in Panipat, so we travelled to a hospital in Gurugram. The doctor told us that treatment and dialysis needed to begin immediately.

My father initially refused.

He feared that the money required for his treatment would leave nothing for my travel and initial expenses in Denmark. He wanted to delay his treatment until after I had left for my PhD.

My friends helped me by lending me money. Only after I showed my father that I had enough funds to travel did he agree to begin treatment.

He had spent his entire life earning money for his family but had no health insurance and had neglected his own health while supporting our education.

Leaving India while my father was undergoing dialysis was one of the hardest decisions of my life. But the PhD stipend available to me in India would not have been enough for me to support his medical expenses. I went to Denmark because I needed to build a future and help my family financially.

Today, I have completed my PhD and work as an engineer in a respected international company in the field of optical fibers. My father is proud of me. He has remained on dialysis since 2021.

I am grateful for every opportunity I received. I am grateful to my parents, teachers, friends and mentors. But I cannot stop asking:

Why did education have to be so difficult?

Why did my family have to make such extreme financial sacrifices for me to study?

Why are entrance examinations treated as the ultimate measure of a child’s intelligence and potential?

Why must families pay enormous amounts to coaching institutes simply to give their children a competitive chance?

Why do children have to sacrifice their health, hobbies, friendships and childhood to prepare for one examination?

Why are career options not properly explained in schools?

Why is practical learning still missing from so many science programmes?

Why does a student who fails one entrance examination feel that life itself is over?

Why is affordable, high-quality education not treated as a basic right for every child and young adult?

My story ultimately led to a successful career, but it could easily have ended differently. Many talented students do not have parents who can keep paying, mothers who can sell jewellery, friends who can lend money or mentors who can guide them at the right moment.

Talent exists everywhere in India. Opportunity does not.

What this petition asks for
This petition is not against examinations, academic standards or merit. It asks that one examination should not be allowed to decide a child’s entire future.

We call upon the Government of India, state governments, universities and education regulators to take the following steps:

1. Make quality public education genuinely affordable through the undergraduate level. No capable student should abandon higher education because of tuition fees, accommodation costs, books, transportation or examination fees.
2. Reduce dependence on private coaching institutes. Schools and colleges must provide sufficient teaching, entrance-examination preparation, study materials, doubt-clearing support and academic mentoring within the formal education system.
3. Regulate coaching institutes and dummy-school arrangements. Coaching fees, advertising claims, student working hours, mental-health protections and links with dummy schools should be transparent and properly regulated.
4. Introduce meaningful career counselling in every secondary school. Students should learn about a wide range of educational and career pathways—not only medicine, engineering, civil services and a few famous institutions.
5. Reform admission systems so that one high-pressure examination is not the only measure of ability. Admissions should consider a balanced combination of academic performance, aptitude, subject interest and other transparent criteria where appropriate.
6. Provide stronger financial support based on economic need. Scholarships, hostel support, travel assistance, digital access and emergency education funds should be easily available to students from low-income and lower-middle-income families.
7. Improve the quality of public colleges and universities. Students deserve safe buildings, clean toilets, functional laboratories, updated libraries, trained teachers and meaningful practical experience.
8. Protect students’ mental and physical health. Schools, colleges and coaching institutes must discourage extreme study schedules and provide access to counselling, sports, arts, recreation and adequate rest.
9. Create flexible pathways between disciplines. Students should be able to explore and move between areas such as medicine, biology, physics, engineering, photonics, materials science and environmental science without feeling that one decision at the age of 16 or 17 has permanently closed every other door.
10. Ensure that no student is treated as a failure because of one examination result. Our education system must recognise curiosity, persistence, creativity, practical ability and different ways of learning.

Education should not require a family to sacrifice everything.

My parents gave me more than they could afford. My mother sold her jewellery. My father postponed his own medical treatment because he believed my education was more important than his health. My friends lent me money when I had no other option.

I succeeded because many people carried me when the system did not.

But education should not depend on extraordinary sacrifice, luck or personal connections.

A child should not need to leave their city just to access good teaching. A student should not need expensive coaching to compete in a public examination. A family should not have to choose between healthcare and education. A young person should not spend their entire childhood believing that one rank will determine whether they are worthy of respect.

We must build an education system that allows children to learn, question, experiment, rest, play and discover who they are.

We must stop glorifying exhaustion as hard work.

We must stop confusing examination performance with intelligence.

We must stop allowing financial privilege to determine who receives the best guidance and opportunities.

I am starting this petition for every student who has felt lost after an entrance-examination result, for every parent struggling to pay school and coaching fees, and for every curious child whose potential may never be discovered because quality education remains unaffordable or inaccessible.

Please sign this petition and demand an education system that values learning over rank, opportunity over privilege and human potential over examination scores.

Quality education should not be a luxury. It should be a right.