In the Silence Trend: How School Bags Are Becoming a Daily Burden for Students

Jessica Talukdar

In recent years, a silent but deeply consequential transformation has been unfolding across school corridors in India—one that rarely commands headlines but quietly shapes the everyday realities of millions of children. The weight of school bags, once considered a minor inconvenience, has now grown into a persistent burden that affects not only posture but also the psychological and physiological well-being of students from the earliest grades through adolescence.

A walk outside any school gate during dismissal offers the clearest picture. Children as young as six or seven—barely out of their toddler years—can be seen hunched beneath oversized backpacks that often outweigh their own capacity for endurance. What was once a manageable load of notebooks and a lunchbox has evolved into a cumbersome haul of textbooks, reference materials, art supplies, and personal essentials, all crammed into a single bag. This visual is no longer an exception but the norm.

Though awareness around this issue surfaced sporadically over the last decade, the situation appears to have worsened, not improved. Particularly in private schools and competitive academic environments, the culture of excess—excess homework, excess tuition, excess books—translates quite literally into physical weight. Students from Classes 6 to 10, already navigating the challenges of puberty, academic pressure, and identity formation, now also contend with daily strain on their backs, necks, and joints.

The health consequences are far from abstract. Orthopaedic specialists across Indian cities have raised alarms over the rising number of adolescents showing signs of early spinal stress. According to a joint study by the Indian Journal of Paediatrics and the Postgraduate Institute of Medical Education and Research, carrying bags that exceed 10% of a child’s body weight can lead to irreversible musculoskeletal damage. Yet, in many cases, schoolbags weigh between 15% to 20% of a student’s total weight. The consequences are compounded in schools where students must climb three or four flights of stairs multiple times a day—an effort taxing even for a physically fit adult.

What makes this issue more urgent is its insidiousness. Unlike visible injuries or sudden illnesses, the strain of a heavy bag accumulates slowly, often dismissed as “normal.” Children rarely complain unless the pain becomes unbearable, and parents—accustomed to the same patterns—don’t always question the routine. But the ripple effects are real: from disturbed sleep cycles due to muscle tension to chronic back pain that shadows students into adulthood. In children with pre-existing conditions—such as sinusitis, scoliosis, or respiratory issues—the added pressure becomes outright harmful.

The psychological toll is no less pressing. Young girls, often between the ages of seven to nine, are among the most affected. Their physical frames, still in early developmental stages, are rarely suited to carry such disproportionate loads. But beyond the physical burden lies another weight—the subtle message that academic success is inseparable from overexertion. Carrying heavy bags daily becomes a metaphor for an education system that confuses pressure with performance.

This problem is not limited to high schoolers. Students in lower primary grades—Classes 1 through 3—reportedly carry bags weighing up to 4–5 kilograms. For a child who herself weighs only 18–22 kg, that’s equivalent to an adult carrying over 15 kg on their back every single day. It’s not just uncomfortable; it’s developmental sabotage.

Previously, certain mitigation systems had been proposed and, in some cases, implemented. Rotational timetables that limited subjects per day, locker systems within classrooms, and digitized resources were briefly introduced in some urban schools. There was also the once-common practice, particularly for higher grades, of dividing large textbooks into parts. Subjects like social science were often split into three or four sections, reducing daily load. Even class notebooks or copies were customized—thinner, lighter versions replacing bulky registers. These simple interventions helped reduce the burden significantly.

Additionally, students were once encouraged to coordinate with partners about which books to carry. These informal agreements, sometimes school-approved, ensured that only one student needed to carry a shared textbook on a given day. In other cases, teachers communicated clearly about the day’s requirements, often sending reminders via WhatsApp groups or school apps. These digital tools, now widely available, offered practical ways to streamline what students needed to carry. Yet today, despite the continued availability of these systems, many schools have regressed. Either due to administrative apathy or a return to traditional academic expectations, such practices have vanished.

In many schools, especially in higher classes, the culture of overpacking has crept back in. Students now carry full sets of textbooks, reference books, multiple notebooks per subject, drawing kits, lab journals, and more—all without clear communication on daily requirements. The earlier flexibility and coordination are gone, replaced with an unspoken pressure to be overprepared, no matter the cost. The result is that both younger and older students are equally overburdened.

This issue is particularly alarming for children living in hilly or mountainous regions. The physical strain of climbing steep roads or navigating uneven paths with a heavy bag is significantly worse than in flatter urban areas. In such contexts, the risk to a child’s spine, knees, and overall stamina is magnified. Similarly, students who do not have access to private or school transport suffer disproportionately. Carrying these heavy bags to and from school daily—sometimes over long distances—reduces their physical energy, leading to exhaustion even before classes begin.

Parents have taken note. Many report growing concern about their children’s posture, fatigue, and irritability. Yet their worries are often brushed aside, lost in the larger narrative of academic rigour. Meanwhile, government guidelines have remained largely ineffective. The Ministry of Education's recommendations—that bags should not exceed 10% of a child’s body weight—are rarely followed. Schools that do enforce it tend to be in elite urban pockets; the vast majority continue unchecked.

There remains room for reform. First, schools can revisit older systems that worked. Trimming and segmenting large textbooks can be reinstated. Teachers should issue daily or weekly lists of required books and copies, particularly for primary and middle school classes. A designated day for lighter subjects can be built into the timetable to provide relief. Digital books, though not a universal solution, can be introduced where infrastructure allows. Class lockers, even simple cubbyholes, can help students store rarely used materials.

Additionally, for the younger grades, the practice of using workbooks with printed exercises can reduce the need to carry multiple notebooks. If properly managed, schools can create a weekly schedule where children carry only the essentials. Regular checks by school administrators to weigh bags at random can also instill discipline in teachers and students alike.

Ultimately, schools must stop treating this as a side issue. The weight of a child’s schoolbag is not an isolated concern—it is a visible marker of how we value student welfare. As India continues to modernize its education system, focusing on NEP reforms and digital expansion, this most basic concern must not be ignored. A child hunched under the weight of textbooks cannot stand tall in life.

Unless actionable, consistent reforms are implemented—combining past wisdom with present possibilities—we risk turning an entire generation’s foundational years into a silent struggle against gravity.

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