How the Malimath Committee Denied Women Their Rights?

Section 498A IPC was inserted in the Indian Penal Code in 1983 and provides to protect women from cruelty in their matrimonial homes. The Malimath Committee Report (2003), twenty years after the enactment of Section 498A, noted,

“In a less tolerant, impulsive woman may lodge an FIR even on a trivial act. The result is that the husband and his family may be immediately arrested and there may be a suspension or loss of job. The offence alleged being non-bailable, innocent persons languish in custody. There may be a claim for maintenance adding fuel to the fire if the husband cannot pay. She may change her mind and get into the mood to forget and forgive. The husband may realize the mistakes committed and come forward to turn a new leaf for a loving and cordial relationship. The woman may like to seek reconciliation. But this may not be possible due to the legal obstacles. Even if she wishes to make amends by withdrawing the complaint, she cannot do so as the offence is non-compoundable. The doors for returning to family life stand closed. She is thus left at the mercy of her natal family…This section, therefore, helps neither the wife nor the husband. The offence is non-bailable and non-compoundable making an innocent person undergo stigmatization and hardship. Heartless provisions that make the offence non-bailable and non-compoundable operate against reconciliations. It is, therefore, necessary to make this offence (a) bailable and (b) compoundable to give a chance to the spouses to come together” (p. 191).

 

The Committee, while making such observations, expressed its apprehensions about the ability of the criminal justice system to provide justice. However, the committee has failed to recognize that

First, cruelty under 498A is listed as a cognizable, non-bailable, and non-compoundable crime and has to be dealt with accordingly. The criminal justice system, while dealing with each case, is expected to take abundant precautions in ascertaining the guilt of the accused person; therefore, to suggest that this offence be diluted implies distrusting the judiciary and labelling the trial courts as inefficient to effectively adjudicate the culpability of the parties.

Second, the context of the relationship between the perpetrator and the victim does not make domestic violence a lesser crime. Rather, the severity of the crime is adverse in situations where the batterer is in the position to exert financial, emotional, and social control over the victim because of the relationship, and the victim is financially dependent on the perpetrator.

Third, salvaging a violent marriage is not a viable option when a man is abusive, as he destroys the family through his violent actions. Families cannot be built on the edifice of bruised and battered bodies or scarred minds.

Fourth, the bitterness in a relationship already starts once a wife is being abused; therefore, suggestions should have focused on altering the men’s violent behaviour.

Fifth, the policemen are not overzealous in arresting the accused. Rather, studies have shown that women undergo hassles in filing the FIR. Also, at every step of the trial, mediation is enforced vehemently to compel women to reconcile.

Sixth, making the offence compoundable will not serve the purpose, as neither will it deter the perpetrator nor will it help to salvage the relationship. Experiences show that violence escalates in situations when women are pushed back into abusive situations without the guarantee of safety.

Last, the committee has failed to raise concerns relating to provisions of shelter homes, medical, or legal aid, or other facilities for the battered women, as its only apprehension was to save the family. This indicates its biased approach.

Despite its pitfalls, this erroneous approach sets precedents, is being repeated multiple times, and has major implications for diluting the procedures and provisions relating to criminal law. Over the years, the state has followed the recommendations blindly without testing the validity of claims or referring to the existing research to suggest changes. 

For more details, please see my book

Domestic Violence Law in India: Myth and Misogyny (2021), Routledge

 How the courts failed gender justice 

The Basic Premise Behind Domestic Violence Remains Unchallenged

Domestic Violence in India is premised on several notions such as 

1) The marital relationship is hierarchical and inegalitarian. Women are accorded a low status within a marriage and the family whereas a man is considered a master of the household 

2) The husband and his family have the authority to beat the wife besides demanding dowry. Chastisement is a prerogative granted to a husband who can commit violence against a wife in the guise of love and discipline. 

3) A violent husband is not made accountable even if he brutally murders the woman. The law grants immunity to violent husbands even if the husband is a drunkard, vile, or criminal.  

4) The family is a private realm and no one and not even the law should interfere with the privacy of such an institution. Domestic harmony is prioritized over violence against women. 

5) The doctrine of marital unity as propounded by Blackstone persists which prevents law framers and implementers to see complainant wives as separate persons or a citizen demanding protection under the law. 

6) Courts are expected to uphold constitutional values instead they are enforcing the family ideology 

7) The law has been used symbolically and superficially to address violence issues but no steps have been taken to address the root cause, for instance, the dowry law has failed to eliminate dowry or address dowry-related violence 

8) The legal discourse focused on blaming the victim, stigmatizing her, and penalizing women for not `adjusting’ within families  

9) Due to the backlash, the focus is shifting away from reality from `bad men’ who are battering or burning their wives to `bad or terrible women’ who are misusing the law. 

Most of these premises are never questioned even in a court of law. The law does not utilize the principles of rationality while adjudicating the claims of battered or murdered wives. It legitimizes and reiterates social inequalities within the institution of marriage.

 A few attempts have been made to change the approach and the attitude of law implementers to see women as partners and citizens with equal rights. Legal reforms could not make a dent in the construction of women’s `natural’ position within the existing power structure that creates the everyday reality of their life within and outside the family. Additionally, the justice system is a part and parcel of a larger patriarchal society where the system is corrupt and inefficient. Courts used both the logic relating to chastisement prerogative and marital privacy while prosecuting men in cases of wife beating. Language of hierarchy, love, and discipline is used to protect violent men and the tropes of both hierarchy and interiority are used to cover bias in the hierarchical marriage arrangements. The regime of immunity is utilized to justify brutal violence while utilizing the dimensions of feelings and domestic space.  

 

The Justice System Has Failed to Meet the Changing Needs of the Society

Analysis of spates of judgments shows that women are being tortured, brutalized, burned alive, murdered, or forced to commit suicide yet, tragically, the current judicial discourse focuses on misuse or abuse of law by women. The cases relating to dowry deaths, murders of wives, the suicide of women in marriage, and domestic violence, found little space either in the media. No sensitivity is being displayed when a wife dies rather such cases are being normalized and trivialized and what is prioritized is fake concerns raised by fragile masculinity, probably because women’s concerns are no longer deemed relevant by the patriarchal society. Dowry deaths have been highlighted during the decade of the 80s and the laws have been reformed then, however, no monitoring or follow-up has been done to ensure that the system of dowry coercion is eliminated. Similarly, domestic violence cases are being reported in increasing numbers, yet no accountability has been fixed to ensure that actions could be taken to monitor the situation. The system has not devised ways to monitor the situation if the police are following the procedures or conducting the investigation seriously.  The criminal justice system has failed to respond to the changing situation. Similarly, civil law ignores the realities of women’s lives. Perhaps, the state is not willing to accept the agency of women challenging and defying patriarchal norms. Yet, with the existence of a strong constitutional paradigm besides advancement in terms of education, awareness, and enhanced aspirations, women are challenging the conventional stereotype and are defying age-old norms. However, once women enter the courtrooms, they face similar patriarchal restrictions which they have been dealing with outside the court spaces. The courts and investigative agencies dominated by men have failed to transform at the same pace and this lag in expectations of women and working of state is creating complications. The need, therefore, is to renovate the mindset and attitude of the state toward women’s concerns.

Excerpt from my book Women and Domestic Violence Law in India: A Quest for Justice (2019) Routledge

 

Why Are Courts Ignoring the Everyday Realities of Women’s Struggle for Justice?

 Why Are Courts Ignoring the Everyday Realities of Women’s Struggle for Justice?

In recent years, a troubling narrative has taken hold in many Indian courtrooms: the idea that women are misusing the Domestic Violence Act. This narrative, often repeated without thorough evidence, reflects a deep-rooted suspicion of women's voices, especially when they speak out against abuse. What the courts fail to see—or choose to ignore—are the everyday, lived realities of women who are systematically silenced, disbelieved, and denied justice.

Let me share the story of one of my clients, which highlights the grave injustice being carried out in the name of procedure and skepticism.

She was a government employee, financially independent, and had a daughter from a previous marriage. Hoping for companionship and stability, she married a man from Calcutta who had been divorced. What unfolded after the marriage, however, was nothing short of betrayal and abuse. This man emotionally and financially exploited her. Under the pretext of buying a house for their future together, he took control of her salary, drained her savings, and even coerced her into taking loans in her name.

Then he vanished, leaving her with mounting debt, false promises, and a child to support.

When we approached the court under the Protection of Women from Domestic Violence Act, hoping for relief and protection, the response was disheartening. Despite repeated efforts, the man refused to appear before the court. Instead, he sent her threatening messages, harassing her from a distance. When we presented these messages as evidence and requested a protection order, the court did not act. Rather than offering urgent protection to a woman clearly under duress, the court insisted on giving the man yet another chance to appear.

For nearly a year, this cycle continued. The police claimed they had pasted the summons at his address in Calcutta—a symbolic gesture at best. The legal system moved at a glacial pace while my client lived in fear, burdened by debt, and emotionally shattered. Eleven months later, she received news that he had died. Just like that, the court closed the case.

No protection. No justice. No acknowledgment of the harm she endured.

And now, she is left with nothing but the consequences of his lies—trapped under the weight of loans taken in her name, with no recourse, no restitution, and no home. The documents for the house were fake. There is no property to claim, no inheritance to fight for, only a lingering sense of abandonment—not just by the man who exploited her, but by the very system that was supposed to protect her.

She tried to console herself, thinking of this as her karma. But are these really her failures, or is it because of the indifference of the system that she suffered? 

Is this what justice looks like?

The courts' reluctance to believe women’s experiences of domestic violence reflects a dangerous and systemic failure. While concerns about misuse of the law exist and should be addressed responsibly, they cannot become an excuse to dismiss genuine cases outright. Every time the courts delay action, demand yet another piece of evidence, or wait endlessly for the accused to respond, they are enabling abusers and endangering survivors.

Justice delayed is not only justice denied—it is justice undone.

We need a judicial system that understands the complexity of domestic abuse, especially when it involves financial manipulation, coercive control, and emotional trauma. Women don’t just need legal provisions; they need courts that act swiftly, sensitively, and decisively.

Until then, the law remains a promise unfulfilled. And women like my client will continue to pay the price.

Indian families though glorified are the most violent institutions

 

Indian families, though often glorified, can be among the most violent institutions when it comes to the treatment of women. This truth emerges from my own experiences and in conversations with women who have sought justice in courts, sharing their everyday realities. While Indian families are romanticized in Bollywood films, on television, and across various media platforms, the reality of life within these family structures is far from idyllic for many women.

In fact, families are often where the roots of violence and discrimination against women take hold—long before they are even born. The pervasive issue of female foeticide and infanticide begins in the very homes where female fetuses are aborted or newborn girls are killed. The skewed sex ratio in India stands as a grim reminder of this systemic violence, underscoring the brutal preference for male children.

Even if girls manage to survive these early years, they are still subjected to discrimination within the family. They are often denied access to basic necessities like food, health care, and education. In many households, resources are disproportionately allocated to boys, ensuring that girls are left behind in terms of nutrition and opportunities for growth. This neglect affects their physical and emotional development and limits their future career prospects.

Moreover, from an early age, girls are conditioned to view their natal homes as temporary. They are taught that their primary purpose is to get married and move out of their parents' home, as if their existence and worth are secondary to the needs of the family they will marry into. This mentality reinforces the idea that women have no permanent place in the family they are born into, while men are expected to inherit and stay within their family structures.

The discrimination extends into economic resources as well. Property rights are a glaring example of how women are systematically denied access to the wealth and resources that are often reserved for male members of the family. In many parts of India, women still struggle to claim their rightful share of inheritance, even when the law explicitly grants them such rights.

Violence within the family is another harsh reality that many women face. Dowry violence, domestic violence, and even incest are forms of abuse that occur in the so-called "safe" space of the home. Wives and daughters-in-law are often treated as outsiders, no matter how many years they dedicate to serving their husbands and in-laws. Their emotional and physical well-being is disregarded, and their contributions to the family are undervalued.

Furthermore, the cultural rituals, customs, and traditions that are celebrated as part of Indian family life often work to the detriment of women and girls. From early childhood to marriage and beyond, girls are expected to conform to an ideal of self-sacrifice and submission. The pressure to adhere to these norms can be stifling, and the consequences of resisting are severe, ranging from social ostracism to physical and emotional abuse.

Despite all of this, the narrative remains that the family is a place of safety, warmth, and comfort. This myth is perpetuated by a society that is largely blind to the violence and discrimination that occur behind closed doors. The comfort and safety of family life are often reserved for men, while women are left to endure hardship and injustice in silence.

The reality is that for many women, the family is not a place of love or refuge but a system that perpetuates their oppression. The glorification of Indian families in the media only serves to obscure this truth, perpetuating a dangerous narrative that women’s suffering is invisible and unimportant. Until we confront and address these deep-seated issues within the family structure, we cannot hope to achieve true gender equality in Indian society.

The Invisible Weight: The Emotional Toll of Supporting Survivors of Domestic Violence

 

The Invisible Weight: The Emotional Toll of Supporting Survivors of Domestic Violence

Working with women who are survivors or current victims of domestic violence is not just a professional responsibility—it’s a deeply emotional and often overwhelming experience. It is never easy. While I’ve committed myself to being a source of support, the emotional weight of their trauma often seeps into my own mental and emotional well-being.

There are moments when the urgency of their need collides with the fragility of my own mental state. Sometimes, women reach out in the middle of the night, desperate and afraid, because there’s no one else they can turn to. Just a few nights ago, one of my clients called me at 1:00 a.m. Her husband, heavily intoxicated, had beaten her and thrown her out of the house—into the freezing winter night. She had nowhere to go. No one else to call. In those moments, being her only support is a privilege—but also a burden that leaves lasting echoes in my mind.

On another occasion, I was scheduled to give an important interview. Just an hour and a half before the scheduled time, a woman called me in tears. Her voice shook with fear, pain, and desperation. She needed immediate help. I listened, comforted, and tried to guide her—but emotionally, it left me shaken. I carried that pain with me into the interview, and I couldn’t give it my best. As a human, I was disturbed. Her pain had become mine, and it was difficult to compartmentalize.

Many times, when I listen to the harrowing stories of abuse, violence, and betrayal, a deep anger rises within me. It’s not just a reaction to the injustice these women face, but also a reflection of my own unresolved emotions. Even as a child, I found it difficult to tolerate injustice. It would agitate me, unsettle me. And now, hearing these stories—each one a saga of pain, survival, and shattered dignity—it sometimes opens old wounds within me. Wounds I thought had healed.

These experiences are a reminder that supporting survivors is not just about offering services or professional counsel. It is about carrying a piece of their pain, being present in their most vulnerable moments, and sometimes, losing parts of yourself in the process.

But despite the emotional toll, I continue. Because every call answered, every woman heard, and every moment spent with a survivor fighting for dignity is worth it.