Oh, what dumb viral trends

This is with reference to the article “Oh, what dumb viral trends!” by Haniya Fatemah Kharal (YW, February 14). It was a lovely and to-the-point article elaborating on the viral trends that teenagers blindly follow. For example, the dangerous sanitiser trend.

The underlying theme and the pressure of fitting in explained a lot about why people follow such trends, even when they not comfortable.

I liked how the writer balanced humour with a serious message. It wasn’t just about mocking these trends, but also about understanding the mindset behind them. The idea of JOMO at the end stood out as a refreshing takeaway, reminding us that it is perfectly fine not to follow the crowd.

Areeba Khan,
Multan

II

I really liked the article “Oh, what dumb viral trends!” by Haniya Fatemah Kharal because it was relatable to the youth and trends of today.

The article leaves readers with, first, self-awareness: just because something is popular doesn’t mean it is worth doing. Second, it introduced the idea of JOMO, the joy of missing out, as a positive alternative. Choosing not to follow every trend, thinking for oneself, and staying safe and sensible is also empowering.

Sadia Iftikhar Shafi,
Peshawar

A driving lesson from my mum

This is regarding the story “A driving lesson from my mum” by Amna Tabassum (YW, February 14). The story was simple but very relatable, especially for anyone who has tried learning something new and struggled with it.

The writer beautifully balanced the story with the lesson that learning comes with discomfort, and sometimes the people who push us the most are actually helping us grow.

The mother’s strictness may seem harsh at first, but we should understand that it comes from care and responsibility.

Muhammad Usman,
Faisalabad

An embarrassing day

This is with reference to the story “An embarrassing day” by Ahmed Umair (YW, February 21).

The story was light and full of humour. It showed that embarrassment, no matter how intense it feels in the moment, like freezing when asked a simple question or spilling a drink on your clothes, is temporary.

What matters more is how you respond to it. Instead of letting shame or self-consciousness take over, the writer chose to keep enjoying the day, which made the experience memorable rather than miserable.

Aliyan Qazi,
Hyderabad

Published in Dawn, Young World, April 4th, 2026

I’m in my hostel room right now, staring at the long list of assignments due this Sunday. No matter how much effort I put in, the overwhelming burden doesn’t fade away.

Why was life meant to be like this? Why are we imprisoned in the vicious rat race of “social standards, competition and excellence”, ultimately putting our mental health at stake?

I wish this world weren’t like this. University life wasn’t meant to be a never-ending series of trauma and stress. I dream of a life in which mental health is regarded, respected and acknowledged. It should be talked about openly, just like career options and politicians’ comments.

I imagine walking into the first day of university and hearing the professor say, “Students, I know university is tough. If you ever feel like drowning, just knock upon my door and we’ll resolve it together,” instead of the monotonous commentary about “tough syllabuses, burning competition and attendance policies”.

I don’t dream of a perfect world. I just dream of one where students don’t have to pretend they are fine, where success didn’t cost us our sleep, peace and mental health

Being a university student, I feel no shame in confessing that I struggle with mental health issues, just like thousands of other young minds. Right now, mental health feels like a secret everyone carries, afraid to talk about. Everyone smiles, laughs and pretends to be the luckiest person alive. We post snaps of filtered faces, empty meet-ups and lonely trips. We celebrate, we dance, we sing, but beneath these masked personalities lies the sad reality I wish wasn’t there.

Almost everyone is fighting a silent battle within. Almost every one of us has Googled something related to depression or anxiety symptoms. We are all trying to hide the crisis that is breaking us silently.

But in my ideal world, this wouldn’t be the case. The transformation would start in the classrooms, because that’s where most of us learn to hide pain and pretend to be happy. Instead of teachers whose fear prevents students from asking study-related questions, let alone sharing personal issues, we would have professors who recognise that we are young people with feelings, wishes and shortcomings.

They would show flexibility and leniency when they sense rough patches in our lives. When we wouldn’t participate in class discussions, they would privately inquire about our problems rather than mocking us in front of the class.

And the school culture would be entirely different. Right now, things feel so bleak. The race to be the “most prominent”, “most dominant”, “most intelligent”, “most talented” and many more “mosts” is burning away our creativity and intelligence.

I wish that saying, “I pulled an all-nighter studying chemistry,” was a matter of shame, not pride, because it puts our mental health at stake. Today, we wear exhaustion and struggle as a badge of honour, and the one who destroys his health the most to study is admired by his peers.

In my ideal world, we would value balance over burnout. Study groups wouldn’t just be meant to share notes, timetables and marks, but also to open up about the tense affairs of daily life. At the annual award distribution ceremony, there would be awards for sports, event management, debating, acting and even participation, rather than only hailing the student who topped all the sections in the final exams.

There wouldn’t just be exams that test our rote learning and academic knowledge, but also our emotional intelligence and well-being.

The physical environment matters in mental health too. I dream that school campuses wouldn’t just be a collection of lecture halls and science labs. There would be green areas, quiet spaces and even pet animals, aiming to ease the mental exhaustion of students.

Libraries wouldn’t just be pre-exam preparation zones, but intellectual centres for discussions, awareness campaigns and reflective writing. I dream that common areas in hostels wouldn’t just be an “extra room” for seniors, but places where students from all classes could openly share their memories of the day.

I wish that therapy sessions weren’t stigmatised or trivialised. Access to them would be straightforward and judgement-free. The century-old stereotype that youth have no real struggles in their lives would be overturned, and elders would be willing to listen and help.

Counsellors would be visible and accessible. There wouldn’t just be “discipline in-charges”, “subject heads” and “exam controllers” in schools. There would also be psychologists, therapists and trainers ready to help students navigate mental struggles.

The students themselves, including us, would be different too. Somehow, our Instagram DMs would be more than just a rubbish collection of forwarded reels. We would learn not just to hear, but to truly listen. We would support each other with more than a formal message saying, “I am with you.”

We would learn to recognise the signs of struggle in our best friends’ minds. We would stop asking our friends’ marks just to make sure their number was still below ours. We would celebrate small victories, like a presentation delivered despite haunting anxiety.

And most importantly, I wish this world would teach us that our value and capability aren’t determined only by our productivity, grades, jobs or payslips. I wish to see a world where rest, peace and recreation are equally valued, where taking care of mental health isn’t seen as weakness or selfishness.

I wish for a world where speaking about our longings and asking for help is considered bravery, not cowardice. Where the wisest thing is to understand our limits and learn how to sometimes say “no” to dreams, expectations and desires.

This is the world I want to live in, a world where I can wake up knowing that I will be supported. Where every student like me gets to be fully human, and where our worth isn’t decided by the GPA we hold or the job we get.

I know this sounds unreal and idealistic. But maybe… maybe it’s not pure fantasy. Maybe we can build something close to this vision. For that, we need to change our perspective, thinking and stereotypes. We need to stop measuring success only by material standards.

Compassion, mercy, happiness and joy should be equally valued. Someone who learns to stay composed despite whatever life throws at them should be admired. We need to understand that we deserve mental peace and well-being. We deserve the world I am describing.

And if each of us keeps talking about it, demanding mental peace, we might even get there one day.

Published in Dawn, Young World, April 4th, 2026