SubscriberWrites: Twisha Sharma was not a “Perfect” Victim—And Why That Should Not Matter

As scrutiny shifts from the circumstances of Twisha Sharma’s death to her personal choices, the article argues that women need not fit the mould of a “perfect victim” to deserve justice, dignity

File photo of Twisha Sharma | Instagram

Thank you dear subscribers, we are overwhelmed with your response.

Your Turn is a unique section from ThePrint featuring points of view from its subscribers. If you are a subscriber, have a point of view, please send it to us. If not, do subscribe here: https://theprint.in/subscribe/

The death of 33-year-old Twisha Sharma in Bhopal has sent shockwaves throughout
the country. A familiar narrative has engulfed her alleged suicide—a young woman killed merely within five months of marriage; allegations about dowry harassment; WhatsApp texts revealing how she felt suffocated in her marriage; and Trisha’s frantic appeals to her parents to take her back. In the middle of this all is an absconding husband and an influential retired judge, Twisha’s mother-in-law Giribala Singh, seen in a hard-to-believe indifferent state even as she overlooks the dead body of Twisha being dragged down their apartment stairs!

Television debates have been raging; social media has been rallying for #JusticeForTwisha;
the Supreme Court has taken a suo moto cognizance of the case titled and the CBI has taken over the investigations. The court has urged the media to avoid recording statements of persons “who are likely to be potential witnesses/accused and unnecessarily pre-judge
outcome on certain issues which have to be probed”. Whatever may be the ramifications of a “media trial” and the outcome of the CBI probe, a larger trial has already begun and gained momentum: the trial of Twisha Sharma’s character.

This case hits hard because Twisha does not fit the mould of an “ideal” victim who
could be unconditionally mourned for by the custodians of “family values” and “ideal
womanhood”. Twisha worked in the glamour industry; met her husband through an online
dating app; dared to visit her matrimonial home before marriage; was ambitious and did not care much about expected household duties such as watering plants, cooking food, or even performing daily prayers. Moreover, prioritising her career over motherhood, she went ahead for an abortion without the consent of her husband or mother-in-law. In Giribala’s words, she supposedly denied, “even a minute’s happiness of becoming a father” to her husband.

In short, Twisha flouted all the codes that define a “good woman”—a woman who is compliant, accommodating, domestically inclined, sexually restrained, and committed to furthering her family line. Giribala Singh described Twisha as “swacchand”—implying excessive independence—a trait hardly to be associated with traditional feminine values.

She portrayed Twisha as an emotional wreck, an unstable person, a “difficult” woman who could not be relied upon. She repeatedly alleged that Twisha was a schizophrenic, a woman in whom two personas clashed with one another. Furthermore, Singh vehemently objected to Twisha’s sexual autonomy, breaching into matters that should have been strictly between a married couple, and even made outrageous comparisons between Twisha’s sexual choices with those of sex-workers—morally judging both her daughter-in-law and sex-workers as inherently debased.

Not only this, she even justified Samarth Singh (Twisha’ husband) hurling misogynistic abuses and alleging an illegitimate pregnancy against his wife. In a nutshell, Giribala Singh has woven a narrative that implies that Twisha’s presumably reckless lifestyle
explains, if not justifies, her untimely death.

Well, was Twisha emotionally complicated, impulsive, glamorous, and uninterested in
domestic life? Was Twisha struggling with mental health? Was Twisha not a virgin before
marriage? Did she want to live differently? The answer to these questions can be positive, but are these reasons enough for someone to be humiliated, rebuked or ultimately killed?

The fact that she did not conform to the standards of an ideal wife has somehow become a justification to treat her as a lesser victim. Her emotional complexity has become ammunition to vilify her character. In conservative social media conversations, her example is being used as a warning to women so that they better toe the line drawn for them.

Whatever may be the legal outcome, the case begs another uncomfortable question:
Does education automatically produce empathy, respect for women and gender sensitivity?
Twisha’s husband, a product of National Law School of India University, Bengaluru, and
Giribala Singh, a retired district judge, prove otherwise. Education may provide a
sophisticated social veneer but it can also arm individuals with privilege and resources to
manipulate narratives.

The case exposes the fault lines in “modern” Indian marriages which may celebrate online dating, women’s careers, and Instagram feminism. However, the very
framework of marriage remains feudal. Women may earn, travel or speak freely and appear
independent, yet they are expected to “adjust”, prioritize family honor over their own dignity and silently absorb humiliation and coercion.

Twisha pleaded her parents to take her back only to be advised to “adjust” and “ignore”. It proves that men are not the only torchbearers of patriarchy; women have an equal, perhaps bigger and more damaging, role to perpetuate the same at every level. In this context, mental health has also suffered the brunt of prejudice.

Mental vulnerability is still equated with unreliability, madness, and deviance. Predictably, whenever conversations around women surface, another question is immediately raised: what about men who face domestic abuse? The simple answer to this is that male victims deserve as much attention as women and domestic abuse against anyone is
a crime.

However, these concerns are selectively invoked when violence against women
comes to the fore—not necessarily to mobilize constructive action but to deflect, dilute, and
trivialize the debates around gendered violence. Instead of routine whataboutery, there is a
need to understand that two truths can coexist. Acknowledging structural misogyny does not negate male suffering.

Twisha Sharma does not need to be a “perfect” victim, a saint, a sacrificial woman, to
deserve justice. Her case should be a clarion call to stop collapsing conversations around
gender-based violence to a scrutiny of the victim’s personality—be it the length of her
clothes, her mental state, her sexual history, her compliance, or her freedom to be her own
person rather than someone who merely “adjusts”.

Till the time a woman’s anxiety is weaponised against her, her choices become a proof of irrationality, and her unhappiness is framed as self-created, India would remain no country for women!

These pieces are being published as they have been received – they have not been edited/fact-checked by ThePrint.