Drums of Injustice: Are Men the Forgotten Victims of Indian Law?

A Gruesome Murder in Meerut and a System That Looks the Other Way

March 4, 2025, Meerut—a date and place now etched in infamy. Saurabh Rajput, a 34-year-old Merchant Navy officer, landed from London, his heart set on his daughter’s birthday candles. He never saw them lit. His wife, Muskan Rastogi, 32, had other plans. With her lover, Sahil Shukla, 29, she drugged Saurabh into a haze, plunged a knife into him, and didn’t stop there. They carved his body into 15 grotesque pieces, stuffed them into a cement-filled drum, and bolted to Himachal Pradesh for a twisted vacation. Their six-year-old daughter left behind, whispered to neighbors, “Papa drum mein hai” (Dad is in the drum)—a child’s innocent words that rip through the soul. This wasn’t just murder; it was a slaughter that mocks every shred of justice. So, Indian law, where were you for Saurabh?

A Pattern of Pain: From Meerut to Bengaluru

Half a country away, another man’s story screams for attention. December 2024, Bengaluru: Atul Subash, a 34-year-old IT prodigy, sat in his apartment, penning a 62-page suicide note—a manifesto of torment. He accused his wife and her family of relentless harassment—false dowry charges, emotional blackmail, a life squeezed dry. Then he looped a rope around his neck and stepped into silence. His LinkedIn profile still glows with accolades; his grave holds the truth. Two men, two tragedies—Saurabh’s blood stains a drum, and Atul’s despair stains a nation. Are these isolated horrors, or symptoms of a plague where men’s rights in India are rotting away?

The Law’s Blind Spot: A Critique of Gender Bias

Let’s peel back the law’s skin. In 1983, India birthed Section 498A of the Indian Penal Code—a sword against dowry wolves and abusive husbands. It promised women safety: if a husband or his kin tormented her—physically, mentally, or over-dowry—they’d face three years in jail and a fine. Cognizable (arrests without warrants), non-bailable (no easy escape), non-compoundable (no quick settlements)—it was a fortress. Fast forward to July 1, 2024: the IPC is dead, replaced by the Bharatiya Nyaya Sanhita (BNS). Section 498A is now Section 85, same teeth, same claws. It’s still a woman’s shield—noble in intent, forged from the ashes of bride burnings and dowry deaths.

But here’s the rust: it’s a one-way street. A wife cries “cruelty,” and a man’s handcuffed—evidence optional. The Supreme Court roared about this—calling it “legal terrorism” in 2005 (Sushil Kumar Sharma v. Union of India). In 2014 (Arnesh Kumar v. State of Bihar), they begged police to investigate before arresting them. Yet, false claims—Section 85 misuse—still shatter families. Atul Subash’s note points fingers at this beast: allegations that never stuck, but broke him anyway. The BNS had a chance to fix it—make it gender-neutral, and demand proof first. It didn’t. In September 2024, Law Minister Arjun Ram Meghwal hinted at tweaking Sections 85 and 86 to stop the bleeding. Words, not action. Law, why do you gag men while their wives wield you like a club?

In Meerut, Muskan’s crime isn’t Section 85—it’s BNS Section 103 (murder), a death penalty contender. She plotted since November 2023, duped Sahil with a fake Snapchat ID of his dead mother, and then executed Saurabh like a butcher. Her own mother demands the noose—a rare howl for justice. But will the courts match that fury? If Saurabh had diced Muskan, the nation would quake—protests, headlines, swift gallows. Why the hush now? Law, do you see a woman’s tears but not a man’s blood?

A Society That Shrugs

Step outside the courtroom—culture’s the real jailer. India worships masculinity: men don’t weep, they warrior on. Vulnerability? Weakness. So when Saurabh’s hacked apart or Atul’s swinging, society squints: “He must’ve earned it.” The National Crime Records Bureau (NCRB) begs to differ—75% of India’s 2021 suicides were men, over 1,00,000 lives, many crushed by marital hell. A 2022 study by the Centre for Research and Development found that 23% of urban married men faced spousal abuse—physical slaps, mental scars—but only 1% dared complain. Why? Shame, disbelief, no helplines. Women get shelter; men get silence. Why are men suffering in India, law, while you hand them nothing but stigma?

Meerut’s Drum: A Thunderous Reckoning

Muskan’s not a lone wolf—she’s a spotlight. Charged under BNS Section 103, she and Sahil face the ultimate price. The evidence is a horror show: bloodied knives, a drum of flesh, and a child’s testimony. Yet, whispers linger—will gender soften the blow? Courts have a history of mercy for women—emotional distress, coercion pleas—defenses men rarely win. If a husband pulled this, the rope would be knotted by dawn. The Meerut murder case of 2025 isn’t a footnote—it’s a thunderclap. Law, why do you flinch when the killer’s a wife?

The Numbers Don’t Lie

Dig deeper—stats paint a graveyard. NCRB’s 2021 data logs 4,28,278 crimes against women—32% “cruelty by husband or relatives.” Section 85 (old 498A) cases? Over 1,00,000 are filed yearly, but convictions limp at 10-15%. Falsehoods thrive—extortion, divorce leverage, revenge. Meanwhile, men’s abuse goes uncounted—no law tracks it. The Save Indian Family Foundation cries for balance, citing cases where men lose homes, kids, and sanity to baseless claims. Law, where’s your ledger for their tears?

A System on Trial

This isn’t about dismantling women’s rights—it’s about building a law that doesn’t pick winners by gender. Section 85’s roots were righteous—dowry deaths demanded it. But 2025 isn’t 1983. Women like Muskan wield power; men like Atul crumble under it. Gender bias in Indian law isn’t a glitch—it’s a fracture. Why no gender-neutral laws? Why no fast track for false-accusation victims? Why no helplines when men’s minds snap?

Questions the Law Can’t Dodge

• To BNS Section 246: Why can a lie jail a man, but a man’s truth frees no one?
• To the Courts: Will Muskan’s sentence match a man’s, or will her gender be her shield?
• To Parliament: When will you mend this Indian law failure—make it fair, not lopsided?
• To Society: Why do you mourn a woman’s pain but mock a man’s?

A Path Forward: Rebalancing the Scales

The Indian legal system must evolve, here’s how:

1. Reform Section 209 (now BNS Section 246): Mandate evidence before arrests and impose penalties for false complaints.
2. Gender-Neutral Laws: Enact domestic violence and harassment laws that protect all genders.
3. Mental Health Support: Establish helplines and counseling for men, breaking the taboo of male vulnerability.
4. Judicial Training: Sensitize judges to gender bias, ensuring equitable sentencing.
5. Public Awareness: Spark a national dialogue about men’s rights, free from accusations of misogyny.

These aren’t attacks on women’s rights—they’re steps toward true justice, where no one’s suffering is ignored.

A Question for Us All

To my readers: Saurabh’s drum isn’t rusting quietly—it’s roaring. Atul’s rope isn’t slack—it’s taut with a warning. How many men must bleed, break, or burn before India listens? The Meerut murder case of 2025, and Atul Subash’s suicide—they’re not tragedies; they’re indictments. Law, you’re on trial. Society, you’re the jury. That drum holds more than a body—it holds a question: Are men the forgotten victims? Don’t just read—rage. Demand a system where justice isn’t a coin toss, where every scream counts. The scales are tipping—make them level.