The Growing Menace of Dummy Admissions in Kashmir
Rayees Masroor
Recently, an interesting and rather disturbing anecdote unfolded in a rural higher secondary school in one of the corners of the Valley. With the examination notification issued, students facing attendance shortages were being interviewed to ascertain the reasons for their prolonged absence from school. One such twelfth class student was sitting rather proudly on a sofa, sandwiched between his English teacher and his father. The teacher began asking him a few basic questions related to the subject. To everyone’s surprise, the student could not answer a single question satisfactorily. What was even more striking was that the student appeared completely comfortable with his inability to respond. He offered one meaningless justification after another, even in the presence of his father, who had reportedly spent a substantial amount of money on his residential coaching in Srinagar.
Unfortunately, this was not an isolated case. Dozens of other students who had enrolled themselves in different coaching centres in the medical stream faced similar questions from teachers and lecturers, with most of them struggling to demonstrate even a basic understanding of what they were supposedly studying. This incident raises a much larger question: what exactly are we gaining when students abandon regular schooling in the hope of securing better academic results through coaching?
The growing preference among students, particularly those from rural areas, for coaching centres and libraries in Srinagar over regular schooling is becoming a serious concern. Dummy admissions are certainly not a new phenomenon in Kashmir. What is worrying, however, is the scale at which this culture appears to be expanding and the casual manner in which it is increasingly being accepted by parents and society.
Coaching, in itself, is not the problem. Genuine academic support, mentoring and specialised preparation can certainly help students. But coaching cannot and should not become a substitute for schooling. The two serve fundamentally different purposes. Interestingly, the very term “coaching” is, in fact, somewhat of a misnomer in the Kashmiri context. Coaching, in its true sense, implies personalised guidance, individual attention and mentorship tailored to the needs of a particular learner. What we often see instead is large-scale commercial classroom teaching, where dozens or even hundreds of students are taught together, with little scope for the individual mentorship that the word “coaching” traditionally suggests.
A school is not merely a place where students are taught chapters from textbooks. It is an environment where they learn to communicate, collaborate, question, participate, experiment, compete and coexist with others. It is where they develop social and emotional skills, discipline, civic sense and a broader understanding of society. Unfortunately, the prevailing coaching culture often reduces education to marks, ranks and examination performance.
There is another uncomfortable reality that needs to be acknowledged. Some students who leave their schools and take admission in coaching centres or libraries do not necessarily spend all their time studying. In many cases, particularly among students who come from rural areas to Srinagar, the absence of parental supervision and the attraction of city life can turn the entire arrangement into an expensive exercise in self-deception.
Parents believe their children are studying in a competitive academic environment. The children, meanwhile, may be attending classes irregularly, spending long hours outside academic spaces or simply moving between coaching centres and libraries without developing the conceptual understanding that regular schooling is meant to provide. The consequences can be serious. The National Education Policy 2020 places considerable emphasis on conceptual understanding, critical thinking, creativity, communication, collaboration, experiential learning and the development of 21st-century skills. These objectives cannot be achieved by treating education as a race to complete syllabi and solve examination papers.
A child who spends most of his or her formative years sitting in a coaching classroom may learn how to reproduce answers, but education must aspire to produce much more than that. It must produce a learner who can think, question, analyse and apply knowledge.
There is therefore a need for an honest conversation about dummy admissions. Instead of pretending that the practice does not exist, we should acknowledge it and regulate the ecosystem around it. If a student is formally enrolled in a school but spends the academic year attending a coaching institution elsewhere, there must be greater accountability on all sides.
One practical measure could be to establish a system whereby coaching centres maintain proper attendance records of enrolled students and share daily, weekly or monthly attendance information with the schools where those students are formally admitted. Such a mechanism would not only discourage irregular attendance but would also make parents more aware of how their children are actually spending their time.
Coaching institutions too must recognise that with influence comes responsibility. They should not become silent partners in a system that allows students to remain absent from their schools for months while continuing to enjoy the formal status of regular students. The concerned government authorities, for their part, must also introspect. If students are increasingly choosing coaching centres over schools, it needs attention. Schools need to become more engaging, academically rigorous, technologically relevant and responsive to the aspirations of contemporary learners. Attendance should not merely be treated as a bureaucratic requirement; it should be connected with meaningful participation in school life.
Parents perhaps have the most important role to play. Spending a large amount of money on residential coaching does not automatically guarantee academic success. Nor does sending a child to Srinagar make him or her academically competitive. Education ultimately depends on consistent effort, quality teaching, discipline and the ability to learn independently. The anecdote that unfolded in that higher secondary school should therefore not be dismissed as merely an amusing incident involving an unprepared student. It represents a deeper crisis in our understanding of education. If dummy admissions, prolonged school absenteeism and an unregulated coaching culture continue unchecked, we may end up producing students who have spent enormous amounts of time and money around education without actually receiving the education they needed.
The stakes are too high. Behind every such student is a family with hopes, sacrifices and dreams. We must therefore have the courage to confront the problem before it becomes normalised. Coaching should supplement schooling, not replace it. And attendance should reflect learning, not merely paperwork. If we fail to address this menace today, we may discover tomorrow that the price was not merely a few missed classes, but the compromised future of an entire generation.
(Rayees Masroor is an educationist and columnist based in north Kashmir. He writes extensively on educational, social and youth-related issues. He can be reached at rayeesmasroor111@gmail.com)
