For the last few days in India, two deaths of young women have dominated the National conversation. What went so horribly wrong? Two daughters brought up with love, married off with hope, and are now dead.
Twisha Sharma, 33, an MBA graduate, was found dead at her marital home in Bhopal's Katara Hills on May 12. She had married lawyer Samarth Singh just five months earlier, leaving behind her career of modelling and acting. Her family claims she endured relentless mental torture, dowry harassment, and a forced abortion at the hands of her husband and his mother, who is a retired district judge. CCTV footage from the night of her death shows a suspicious three-hour gap between when she was last seen alive and when her death was officially recorded. Her husband has since fled and remains a runaway, with police offering a ₹30,000 reward for his arrest and a Lookout Circular issued to stop him from leaving the country. His mother secured anticipatory bail — a decision Twisha's family is now challenging in the Madhya Pradesh High Court.
Deepika Nagar, 24, a BA BEd graduate, on the other hand, grew up in Kudi Khera in Greater Noida, not very far from her matrimonial home in Ecotech, died on the night of May 17 after allegedly falling from the terrace of her in-laws' three-storey home in Jalpura. She had married Ritick Tanwar, a real estate businessman studying law, just 17 months earlier, with her family spending nearly ₹1 crore on the wedding. Despite this, her in-laws allegedly demanded an additional ₹51 lakh and a Toyota Fortuner. Hours before her death, she called her father crying, saying she was being beaten. Her post-mortem revealed brain haemorrhage, ruptured spleen, liver, and kidney injuries inconsistent with a simple fall. Three accused, including her husband and father-in-law, have been arrested.
Both cases expose a brutal truth — in India, no social status, education, or wealth protects a woman from the institution of dowry.
Sister Sarika said, “Over the past month, her workload had increased. Her feet were hurting, and she was weak after two abortions due to medical complications, but her mother-in-law used to make her complete all household chores,” she said. “How could a 24- year-old woman manage the entire house? But she was still managing it alone. I said do what you can and leave the rest.” Her family kept trying to settle and hoped things would improve, but they didn’t. Meanwhile, Twisha's messages read like someone losing herself: “I am trapped. I miss home.” An MBA graduate and former beauty pageant contestant, she wanted to work and keep her identity, but that space appears to have disappeared after marriage. Hope that many married women are taught to cling to while being told to adjust, compromise, and protect family honour, even as that “peace” becomes a war on the woman herself.
Samar Singh (Twisha’s husband) is in police custody; his 7-day remand has ended, and CBI is likely to seek an extension. The CBI team has since arrived at Giribala’s residence in Bhopal’s Katara Hills and conducted a thorough interrogation of key individuals linked to the case. Among those questioned was Samarth’s brother, Siddhant Singh, who serves as an air force officer. CBI has intensified the Twisha Sharma death probe after arresting her mother-in-law, retired judge Giribala Singh, for destroying and concealing evidence and allegedly trying to influence people by contacting those with power. The investigation now includes her call records to check for attempts to hide or alter facts. Additionally, they recreated the crime scene late at night to help investigators get deeper insight into the sequence of events. The MP High Court has flagged a lack of cooperation by the accused and highlighted WhatsApp chats and harassment allegations. Autopsies revealed at least six antemortem injuries.
The CBI’s investigation examined every detail, including the terrace where Twisha allegedly died, a nearby shed, and conducted a 360° recording to reconstruct the alleged “tunnel view”. A mysterious belt was found at the scene, and later reports confirmed that the belt had not been included in either of the two autopsies conducted, fueling further suspicion about its significance and why it was omitted from forensic analysis.
The Dowry Prohibition Act, 1961, criminalises giving or taking dowry and lays down a minimum five-year jail term for this crime. “Whoever commits dowry death shall be punished with imprisonment for a term which shall not be less than seven years but which may extend to imprisonment for life,” it adds.
While the CBI’s involvement in both cases offers a fair chance for justice, it also exposes the deep-rooted systemic flaws that have long allowed genuine cases of dowry-related deaths to collapse under the weight of legal and procedural failures. One of the most alarming realities is the staggeringly high acquittal rate in such cases, with national statistics revealing that only between 11% and 17% of dowry death cases result in convictions. This means that roughly just one in every six cases ends in a conviction, leaving the vast majority of victims and their families without any semblance of justice.
Crime stories once again expose a deeper social problem in India: a mindset that persists despite dowry being illegal for over five decades. What stands out is not just the crimes, but the attitude that allows them. Captured in the common phrase “Paraya Dhan,” meaning a married woman is “someone else’s property”, when women are treated as property, they stop being seen as individuals and become transactions, expectations, burdens, or objects to control.
Both cases are under investigation, and families are demanding justice. They raise a bigger question: what happens when a woman is told to leave her job, depend entirely on her husband’s family, and cut herself off from her own support system? If that family turns her out, where does she go? This is why financial independence is not just about career or ambition, but it’s about security with dignity. The money you earn gives you freedom to walk out of an abusive home, rent a house, get a lawyer, and start again. Yet many women are still encouraged to sacrifice their careers after marriage, to prioritise the family they married into, and to keep everyone happy at the cost of their peace.
Even as more women are educated and working, the reality is that for many, work never ends. A man may log off, but a woman comes home to care for the house, children, and elderly, carrying the emotional burden of holding the family together. When that woman speaks up or refuses abuse, she’s often told she’s “breaking the family,” met with guilt and name-calling. The conversation cannot be only about dowry laws; it must be about the mindset that says a woman must endure everything to save a marriage, that her success, freedom, money, and happiness matter less than keeping the household together. In 2026 India, no woman should have to choose between safety and marriage, and no family should teach daughters that suffering in silence is a virtue.
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