When Dreams Turn Heavy: The Silent Emotional Battles Of Indian Students Studying Abroad

The death of 22-year-old Indian student Saketh Sreenivasaiah in California has once again drawn attention to a difficult, often unspoken reality: life abroad can be exhilarating, but it can also be quietly overwhelming for young students navigating adulthood in unfamiliar worlds.

Saketh, originally from Karnataka, was pursuing a master's degree in Chemical and Biomolecular Engineering at the University of California, Berkeley after graduating from IIT Madras. He had been missing for several days before being found at Lake Anza. His roommate, Baneet Sidd, later spoke about subtle behavioural changes, less sleep, minimal interaction, and a growing emotional detachment, signals that, in hindsight, felt deeply worrying.

His story is not just a tragic incident; it reflects a wider, complex emotional landscape faced by thousands of Indian students studying overseas.

When opportunity meets isolation

Studying abroad is often seen as a dream, global exposure, academic excellence, independence, and career prospects. Yet beneath that promise lies a quieter reality. Students who leave home at 20 or 22 are not just moving countries; they are crossing emotional thresholds.

They arrive in environments where everything is unfamiliar, language accents, food, weather, social norms, classroom expectations, and interpersonal boundaries. Even everyday acts such as seeking help, making friends, or expressing vulnerability require adjustment.

In India, most young people grow up within layered support systems, parents, extended family, neighbours, and familiar cultural rhythms. Abroad, these disappear overnight. What remains is a single rented room, a demanding course load, and the expectation to function independently.

Loneliness rarely announces itself loudly. It creeps in gradually, missed calls home, meals eaten alone, weekends without conversation, and the pressure to appear "strong" and successful.

The invisible pressure cooker

International students carry multiple burdens simultaneously:

Academic intensity: Western universities emphasise self-driven learning, research, deadlines, and continuous assessment. Many students struggle silently to keep up.

Financial anxiety: High tuition, rent, insurance, and daily expenses weigh heavily, especially when families have made sacrifices to fund the education.

Career uncertainty: Visa rules, internships, and job placements create constant pressure to perform.

Identity displacement: Students often feel caught between two worlds, not fully at home abroad, yet slowly drifting from the life they left behind.

Social comparison in the digital age: Social media amplifies the illusion that everyone else is thriving, travelling, networking, succeeding. Students hesitate to admit they are struggling.

These pressures intensified during global lockdowns, when many students were confined to small rooms thousands of kilometres away from family. Even today, the after-effects linger: anxiety, burnout, and a fear of failure.

At this age, the fragile bridge between adolescence and adulthood, emotional resilience is still forming. When distress builds, it can feel unmanageable, and the idea of escape can tragically appear easier than endurance.

The silence around mental distress

One of the biggest challenges is that distress rarely looks dramatic. It shows up as:
• Withdrawal from conversations
• Irregular sleep or eating habits
• Emotional numbness
• Loss of interest in hobbies
• Statements like "nothing matters anymore"

These signals are often dismissed, by friends, by families, and sometimes by the students themselves, as temporary stress.

In reality, they can be warning signs of emotional exhaustion.

The cultural expectation to "be strong" worsens the silence. Many students hesitate to tell parents about struggles, fearing worry, judgement, or financial guilt.

What parents can do, even from thousands of miles away

Distance does not mean helplessness. Families remain the strongest emotional anchor for students abroad. The challenge is to transform that connection from supervisory to supportive.

1) Shift from monitoring to listening

Instead of asking only about grades, placements, or expenses, ask:

• How are you feeling lately?
• Are you sleeping well?
• Have you made time for yourself?

Conversations should feel safe, not evaluative.

2) Normalise vulnerability

Let children know it is okay to feel lost, homesick, or uncertain. Share your own struggles from youth. Emotional honesty from parents gives permission to open up.

3) Watch for behavioural patterns

If calls become shorter, messages less frequent, or responses unusually flat, gently check in. Avoid confrontation; express concern.

4) Encourage community

Urge students to:
• Join clubs or interest groups
• Participate in campus events
• Stay connected with fellow Indians and international peers

Belonging reduces emotional isolation.

5) Make mental health support a norm

Encourage them to use university counselling services. Present it as a routine resource, not a crisis measure. Therapists recommended by someone who has used their services too can help, by counselling in person or online. Several lives have been saved and most people have found their mojo back after such therapy sessions. Find one that is not into blame game or into creating more fissures within a family but helps the distressed student find his 'even keel' and 'joie de vivre' (joy of living or an exuberant enjoyment of life) back.

6) Reduce performance pressure

Reassure them that:

• Grades are not identity
• Career paths are rarely linear
• Returning home is not failure
Security reduces fear.

7) Stay predictably present

Fix weekly video calls. Celebrate small moments, cooking successes, a new friend, a finished assignment. Consistency builds emotional stability.

Giving young people perspective

Students abroad are not just chasing degrees; they are building identities. What they need most is perspective:

• Struggle is not permanent.
• Confusion is part of growth.
• Failure is a teacher, not an endpoint.
• Asking for help is strength.

Parents can help by reinforcing a long-view mind-set, life is not decided in a semester, a job application, or a visa cycle.

Remind them that they are loved beyond achievement.

The role of friends, institutions, and society

Peer circles often notice changes first. Encouraging a culture where friends check in on each other, not just socially but emotionally, can save lives.

Universities, too, must strengthen:

• Accessible counselling
• Cultural transition programmes
• Peer support networks
• Faculty awareness training
A student's well-being should be treated as integral to academic success, not separate from it.

Holding on through the rough seas

The journey from youth to adulthood has never been simple. But today's students face it in a hyper-competitive, hyper-connected, yet emotionally fragmented world.

They live in digital silos, far from home, under relentless pressure to succeed quickly and visibly.

Watching over them does not mean controlling them. It means staying emotionally available, a steady lighthouse across oceans.

Parents cannot remove every storm. But they can ensure their children know they are not sailing alone.

And sometimes, that knowledge, that someone will listen without judgement, stand without conditions, and stay without distance, becomes the difference between sinking and surviving.