The tragic death of Shivshankar Mitra, a Bank of Baroda chief manager in Baramati, Pune, who took his own life on July 17, 2025, citing unbearable work pressure, is not just a personal tragedy—it’s a damning indictment of a system that grinds its employees to breaking points.
Mitra’s suicide note, penned before he used a rope to end his life in the very branch he managed, laid bare the suffocating stress of his job, pleading for banks to stop overburdening their workforce. His story is not an isolated cry but an echo of countless others in India’s banking sector, where relentless targets, long hours, and a culture of silence around mental health are driving employees to despair.
This isn’t new. In 2019, a State Bank of India employee in Mumbai left a note blaming unrealistic loan recovery targets before taking her life. In 2022, a private bank manager in Gujarat cited similar pressures—endless performance metrics, insufficient staffing, and a lack of support—as reasons for his suicide. These are not mere anecdotes; they are symptoms of a toxic work environment that prioritizes profits over people.
The banking sector, particularly public-sector banks, operates under a relentless drive to meet financial targets set by distant boardrooms, often ignoring the human cost. Employees face punishing schedules, with many working 12-hour days, juggling customer demands, regulatory compliance, and aggressive sales goals for loans, deposits, and insurance products. The pressure is magnified for managers like Mitra, who are caught between appeasing superiors and managing overworked teams, all while navigating a labyrinth of bureaucratic inefficiencies.
The human toll is staggering. Studies by the All India Bank Employees Association have flagged rising mental health issues, with 60% of bank employees reporting stress-related ailments like anxiety, depression, and hypertension. Yet, the response from banks remains woefully inadequate—token wellness webinars or generic employee assistance programs that barely scratch the surface. Mitra’s note, urging banks not to overburden employees, is a call to action that demands more than lip service.
His death, captured chillingly on CCTV, is a grim reminder that the cost of inaction is measured in lives lost. Banks must overhaul their approach to workplace well-being with urgency and sincerity. First, they need to reassess unrealistic targets that treat employees like cogs in a profit machine. Sales and performance metrics should be grounded in reality, factoring in staffing levels and regional challenges. Second, adequate staffing is non-negotiable.
Chronic understaffing forces employees to shoulder disproportionate workloads, a problem exacerbated by slow hiring processes in public-sector banks. Third, mental health support must move beyond platitudes. Banks should invest in on-site counselors, mandatory stress audits, and regular check-ins that prioritize employee well-being over performance reviews.
Managers, in particular, need training to recognize signs of burnout in themselves and their teams, fostering a culture where seeking help is normalized, not stigmatized. Finally, leadership must lead by example, dismantling the toxic glorification of overwork and rewarding efficiency over endless hours. The banking sector cannot hide behind the excuse of “industry demands.” Other high-pressure industries, like tech, have begun integrating mental health frameworks, flexible work models, and transparent workload assessments—banks can and must follow suit.
The Reserve Bank of India and the government, too, have a role to play, enforcing guidelines that prioritize employee welfare alongside financial performance. Ignoring this crisis risks not just lives but the sector’s long-term sustainability, as burnout drives talent away and erodes trust. Shivshankar Mitra’s final plea was for his eyes to be donated, a selfless act even in his darkest moment. His death must not be in vain.
It’s time for banks to see the crisis staring them in the face and act before another employee becomes a statistic. The question isn’t whether they can afford to reform—it’s whether they can afford not to.