Mazhar* was not the most intelligent or studious one in our class, but he was good at batting, so that is mostly how I remember him.

He was isolated and often the last one to get the teacher's attention. After school, I did not hear of Mazhar again for at least 20 years. And when I finally got news of him, it was something none of us can ever be prepared for.

Mazhar had shot himself in the head.

Also read: One person commits suicide every 40 seconds: WHO

When I first read about it on social media, I was too shocked to move. Then, I contacted a few close friends, but most of them did not know anymore about the incident than I did. Finally, through a series of inquiries, we were able to piece together some information to get to the bottom of how Mazhar had been suffering.

It was a sad but familiar tale of a person yearning for help, signalling distress, but to no avail.

Mazhar lived with his wife in a different city than mine. He did not have any children after six years of marriage. His marriage was about to collapse as his wife had decided she did not want to live with him. She considered Mazhar very irritable, always angry and too controlling.

Mazhar became more and more withdrawn with time and lost touch with his close friends. He was in debt and the money he earned was barely enough to sustain the family's food and housing expenses.

He did not die without any warning signs.

He called some of his old friends and apologised for his mistakes — most of them trivial.

He also called the people who had lent money to him, saying he would return the money very soon.

As his wife grew more and more angry, he told her that she would soon have her freedom back.

He bought a gun, telling people that he was worried about the security of him and his wife.

A few days prior to his death, Mazhar stopped shaving and had grown a bushy unkempt beard.

For weeks, he did not go to work, and mostly just slept around or watched TV at home.

No one picked on these clues. Maybe it would have made a difference, maybe not. But speculating either way is useless now.

When one person commits suicide, it does more damage than just end one life; it also causes lifelong emotional pain for the friends and family members of that person.

Read on: Mental Health Day: Suicide and media

It is safe to say that most of us will forget about what happened to Mazhar and will return to our lives as before.

I just wonder, did he try to share his feelings with someone? What about medical help? What could have we have done differently to avoid this death?

In western countries asking questions like the above is called “Psychological autopsy”. It identifies the factors associated with a particular suicide with the aim to prevent future occurrences.

American psychologist Thomas Joiner explained “why people die by suicide” in his book. He said that “thwarted belongingness” and “perceived burdensomeness” are responsible for creating a desire of suicide. These individuals then develop, “acquired capability” to kill themselves by overcoming the natural fear of death.

Explore: The alarming rise of teenage suicides in Pakistan

Mazhar's story is neither unique nor uncommon. Unfortunately, our incessantly competitive, increasingly extroverted world does not care to hold back and engage with anyone who chooses to isolate him/herself. This is as true of Pakistan as it is the rest of the world.

Such apathy perpetuates the depression of the marginalised, who already wish they could completely detach themselves from every activity around them.

As a society, we rarely recognise depression as an illness and rather equate it with weakness. For men, it gets even harder to talk about 'feelings', a notion considered 'feminine'. 'Real' men are loathe to associate with it. Thus, a treatable illness becomes a preventable death, and no one seems to understand what went wrong.

Pakistan's suicide rates have shown a sharp increase in the last few years, with a higher frequency amongst adolescents and young adults. The causes are often multi-factorial, what with there being no shortage of domestic issues, marital conflicts, poverty, unemployment, abuse, violence and mental health problems in the country.

Still, Pakistan's suicide numbers — the known ones at least — stand comparatively smaller than most developed countries. Stronger religiosity and family connections are cited as protective factors responsible here. But since, in Pakistan, attempting to kill oneself is an offence punishable by law, the number of reported suicide attempts are almost certainly much lower than the real numbers.

Also read: Suicide and depression: Can we snap out of snap judgements?

All one can hope for is that people begin to readjust their attitudes toward depression and suicide; start treating it less as a criminal act or character flaw, and more as a grave public health concern; stop stigmatising depression and build a society that reacts to the warning signs of suicide, instead of shunning it.

I am not sure if I would have been able to prevent Mazhar from ending his life had I stayed in touch with him.

I just know that simply too many Mazhars go ignored by us everyday, when they shouldn't.

*Name changed to protect privacy