“I thought that if lokas existed at all, good women would surely go to one where men were not allowed so that they could be finally free of male demands.”
― Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni, The Palace of Illusions

Kolkata was shaken by yet another case of domestic abuse leading to murder a few days back when a 22-year-old woman was repeatedly stabbed by her estranged husband, first inside a café in the Beck Bagan area of Kolkata, and then again on the road outside, forcing her to flee while screaming for help. According to reports, locals apprehended the assailant and handed him over to the police. The woman was taken to SSKM Hospital, where she was declared dead on arrival. The 29-year-old husband had previously been arrested on charges of domestic abuse filed by his wife and was later released on bond.

Another man in Pune drilled in iron nails and put a lock over his wife’s genitals after he cast aspersions on her character.

Domestic violence against married women remains a significant and deeply concerning issue worldwide, encompassing various forms of physical, emotional, sexual and economic abuse within intimate relationships. Despite considerable efforts to raise awareness and enact legislative measures, it persists as a pervasive violation of human rights, affecting women of all ages, backgrounds and socioeconomic statuses.

One in three women in India is likely to have experienced intimate partner violence. However, only one in ten of these women formally reports the offence. According to the National Family Health Survey (NFHS) 2019-2021, 29.3 per cent of married Indian women aged 18 to 49 have experienced domestic or sexual violence, and 3.1 per cent of pregnant women in this age group have endured physical violence during pregnancy. These figures, again, only reflect the cases reported by women.

Domestic violence extends beyond spousal or partner relationships, encompassing various familial bonds. In India, the legal framework has broadened this definition to include sisters, widows, mothers, single women, and any woman living in the same household. Consequently, domestic violence encompasses both intimate partners and family members. According to Section 3 of The Protection of Women from Domestic Violence Act of 2005, any act or omission by the respondent that causes harm, injury, threats or abuse—whether physical, sexual, verbal or economic—constitutes domestic violence.

In India, certain laws specifically address the safety of married women from their husbands and their husbands’ families.

The Protection of Women from Domestic Violence Act, 2005: This law aims to protect women from domestic violence, encompassing physical, sexual, emotional and financial abuse. It provides explicit definitions of these abuses and extends its protection to women in live-in relationships, as well as family members such as mothers and grandparents, thereby safeguarding women from male family members.

In Bhartiben Bipinbhai Tamboli v. State of Gujarat (2018), the categories of violence covered by the Act were further clarified.
Sexual Violence: Sexual violence involves compelling a woman to engage in unwanted, dangerous or demeaning sexual acts, including name-calling, using objects or weapons during sex, and being forced to have sex by a spouse or intimate partner.

Physical Violence: Physical violence entails using force to cause bodily harm or injury. This includes physical assault, threats, abandonment in dangerous places, intimidation with weapons, coercing her to leave her home, harming her children and/or using force in sexual situations.

Emotional Violence: Emotional violence involves non-physical abuse that can be as damaging as physical violence. It includes name-calling, accusations, isolation, intimidation, domineering behaviour, insults and constant criticism.

Economic Violence: Economic violence occurs when a woman is deprived of financial support necessary for her and her children’s basic needs, prohibited from working, evicted by withholding rent, denied financial resources, or restricted access to shared domestic resources. It also includes selling or alienating her assets without consent.

The Dowry Prohibition Act, 1961: This criminal code prohibits the giving and receiving of dowry. Under the Dowry Prohibition Act of 1961, the practice of dowry is outlawed, and anyone found providing, accepting, or demanding dowry can face imprisonment for up to six months or a fine of up to 5,000 rupees.

Section 498A of the Indian Penal Code, 1860: This criminal law addresses cruelty towards women by their husbands or the husbands’ relatives. Harassment for dowry, whether physical or mental, by the husband or his family is a punishable offence under Section 498A of the IPC. Although marital rape is yet not criminalised in India, coerced sex with one’s wife may be considered ‘cruelty’ under this section. Section 498A also includes any deliberate behaviour that drives a woman to commit suicide or poses a threat to her life, limb, or overall health, encompassing both physical and mental well-being.

The Statesman spoke with a few women who had survived domestic violence at the hands of their husbands and in-laws. They shared their stories of resilience and how they moved forward with their lives. The names of the following individuals have been changed to protect their identities.

Moneesha speaks
“Growing up as a girl, my education wasn’t deemed important. Despite excelling in sports and having the opportunity to represent my school, my parents disapproved of girls participating in games, forcing me to stop. I was forcefully wedded to a boy my parents found on a matrimonial site, and problems arose almost immediately. Contact with my parents was severely restricted, and my husband was absent all day, only returning at midnight. My mother-in-law constantly complained about my dowry, and my husband joined in, demanding expensive items. When I didn’t conceive after six months, my mother-in-law declared me infertile, and my husband threatened to take a new wife. I wasn’t allowed to step out of the house or even make a phone call. Eventually, I became pregnant, but conditions worsened. My husband began gambling and drinking, leading to frequent arguments where he would beat me and even kick me out of the house. I miscarried then. Our househelp alerted my father, who took me to the hospital. No one from my husband’s family came to check on me, and I gradually stopped expecting them to. My father was incredibly supportive, and when I decided to file a criminal suit against my husband, he stood by me throughout the difficult process. Now I work in a boutique and earn well enough to support myself and my parents. Marriage, surely, is a good thing, but I do not see myself marrying again anytime in the foreseeable future.”

Srabani speaks
“At the tender age of 19, I found myself married to a man 21 years my senior. Tragically, my parents passed away while I was in my first year of college, leaving me under the care of my uncle and aunt who arranged my marriage within a year. Soon after, I became pregnant, but the joy of impending motherhood was marred by constant pressure from my mother-in-law to bear a son. Despite my husband’s absence on weekdays due to work, his weekend visits were fraught with insults and infliction of sexual violence upon me, even during my pregnancy. Feeling trapped and oppressed, I resented carrying my husband’s child. Initially, my father-in-law appeared kind, but when I approached him to explain the situation, he instructed me to remain silent, citing that ‘good women’ never spoke unfavourably of their husbands and intimate details shouldn’t be talked about outside the marriage. He even resorted to burning my lips with a cigarette he was smoking as a form of punishment. Determined to protect myself, I made the decision to leave my marital home upon giving birth to my son and renting a flat. Despite legal battles for custody initiated by my husband, I emerged victorious. In the initial months, we relied on my savings and the proceeds from selling my late mother’s jewellery. Subsequently, I secured a sales job, entrusting my son to the care of a compassionate neighbour who became like family to us. Today, my son, now almost 12, thrives in his studies at a reputable institution, reflecting the decency and understanding I had hoped for. Meanwhile, I have advanced in my career, grateful to have escaped the cycle of abuse and built a brighter future for myself and my son.”

Sweta speaks
“Ours was a love marriage. He had been my partner for three years. A few months after our wedding, my husband lost his job and decided to start a business, asking me for money to fund it. Wanting to support him, I gave him part of my savings from my job as a professor. After a couple of months, he asked for a larger sum, which I didn’t have. He then insisted I ask my parents for the money. When I refused, the abuse began. He would frequently beat me, and I would hide the bruises with makeup before going to work. A few of the other female professors noticed and approached me, but I initially denied their claims of domestic violence. After a year, I couldn’t endure it any longer. My body was covered in bruises, blue and red. I moved back to my parents’ house and sent him divorce papers. Now, I’m happily married to my second husband, who has been incredibly supportive. He’s an angel, and we’re expecting twins soon.”

Addressing domestic violence requires a multifaceted approach involving legal, social, and educational interventions. Additionally, providing accessible resources for survivors, including counselling, legal aid, and safe shelters, is imperative for their recovery and empowerment. Continued advocacy, awareness, policy and societal reforms are essential to create a future where every woman can live free from the fear of violence in her own home. Ending domestic violence requires a collective effort from all sectors of society, ensuring that the voices of survivors are heard and their rights upheld. Sure, the journey is challenging, but with collective effort and unfaltering commitment, it is possible to build a safer and more just society for all.

The author is a lawyer, and a journalist on the staff of The Statesman