Why Darlings matters

Any attempt by mass media to spread the message that spousal violence can and should be punished is to be welcomed

The film Darlings has generated heaps of appreciative conversation, not merely for its stellar performances, but also for its rather unusual handling of the grave issue of domestic violence. Starring Alia Bhatt in the lead role, the film pulls off a complex balancing act — it explores the emotions that keep women rooted to horrific situations of domestic violence (DV), and is darkly funny to boot. Part burlesque, part morality tale, part a modern-day fairy tale (its happy ending is more wish-fulfilment than realistic), Darlings, with its entertaining, comedic touch, will likely speak to a lot of people about the need to stand up to and punish perpetrators of domestic violence.

Two days before Darlings was released, on August 3, Mandeep Kaur, a 30-year-old NRI woman in New York, committed suicide after enduring years of assault at the hands of her husband over dowry demands and because she had not produced a male child. In a gut-wrenching video clip that she recorded and sent to a relative before she took her own life, Kaur said, weeping, “I tried to make everything right but nothing that I did was good enough… Forgive me Daddy, I tried very hard to live.”

Also Read: ‘Darlings’ and lessons for abused women

Like Alia Bhatt’s Badru in Darlings, Kaur too must have endured the serial assault, hoping that her husband would reform over time. And so, like her, Kaur too had vacillated between calling out her husband and putting up with his daily beatings. Like Badru, she too had filed a complaint against him, only to withdraw it forthwith.

Indeed, the social, emotional and financial underpinnings of a marriage and its break-up are often so compelling for women, especially those who are not economically empowered, that many find it next to impossible to exit the relationship, even if it is a toxic one. The fictional Badru is more fortunate. Her sassy, economically independent single mother regularly urges her to leave her abusive husband, and she is eventually able to turn the tables on the monster she is married to and avenge his treatment of her.

In another recent film, Thappad, the protagonist walks away from her marriage the first time her husband strikes her. She seeks and gets a divorce from him, but here too, her family stands by her decision and gives her the support she needs.

For real-life victims of DV who lack financial and familial support, there is often little scope to fight back. Many baulk at seeking institutional help, fearing more abuse, or perhaps because their parents tell them that it is a woman’s lot to accept the thrashings. And some, like Mandeep Kaur, quietly extinguish themselves to escape the eternal hell of their domestic torture chamber.

Intimate partner violence (IPV) is, of course, a global problem. According to the World Health Organisation, globally, one in three women has, at some time or the other, faced violence at the hands of a partner. In India too, spousal violence is the commonest form of crime against women. Data from the National Crime Records Bureau (NCRB) shows that of the total of 4.05 lakh cases of crimes against women in 2019, 1.26 lakh (over 30 per cent) were related to domestic violence.

Earlier this year, a study by BMC Women’s Health said that between 2001 and 2018, the majority of the domestic violence cases in India were registered under the offence of ‘cruelty by husband or his relatives’, and that the reported rate of this crime rose by 53 per cent over the period. That’s a staggering increase, despite an overall under-reporting of DV and the lack of anonymised data on individual cases — all of which make it difficult to determine the true extent of the problem.

While every crime against women is a heinous act, in many ways, violence in the household is the most crushing of all. It is not a single instance of sexual assault by an external aggressor — it is death by a thousand cuts, a daily onslaught of battery and humiliation at the hands of someone with whom you are supposed to have a relationship of love and trust. And it occurs inside your home, the place which is supposed to be your refuge. Spousal violence leaves a woman with no place to hide, no place to recoup, and its sickening regularity probably shatters her spirit more comprehensively than any other form of violence against her.

Also Read: Red Chillies Entertainment to remake Alia Bhatt-led 'Darlings' in Tamil, Telugu

Multiple studies around the world, including India, have shown that a woman’s vulnerability to domestic violence is significantly reduced when she has economic agency, owns land or money, has access to modern communication technologies such as mobile phones and television, and has higher levels of literacy and education. In fact, the spouse’s education is also an important factor here. By and large, the higher the level of their education, the lower is the chance of them assaulting the woman to assert their power over her.

Needless to say, social, legal and economic policy interventions must be made to empower girls and women, not only to reduce the odds of their experiencing domestic violence, but also to give them the strength to reject the shrugging acceptance of wife-beating as a social norm and leave an abusive relationship.

India has made some of these interventions. But their pace and implementation have been slow. Moreover, though there are a bunch of laws to help women seek redress from domestic violence, the low conviction rate is a serious drawback. According to the BMC study mentioned above, only 6.8 per cent of the DV cases filed under the head of ‘cruelty by husband or relatives’ had completed trials in 2018, with most of the accused being acquitted. (The overall conviction rate in cases of crimes against women was a poor 23.7 per cent in 2019, as per NCRB data.)

This, coupled with the fact that India’s law enforcement architecture is largely unsympathetic to women, with the police often loath to even register complaints from them, explains why many women are reluctant to report a crime, and why men continue to act as though they enjoy impunity when it comes to committing violence on a woman.

On Monday, the occasion of the 75th anniversary of India’s independence, and amidst renewed pledges of efforts to boost women power, 11 men convicted of raping Bilkis Bano and killing seven of her family members during the Gujarat riots of 2002, were freed from jail because their life sentences were remitted by the Gujarat government. The 21-year-old Bano was five months pregnant when she was gang-raped.

It is moments like these — numbing in their wanton disregard for justice being seen to be done for a violent crime against a woman — that perpetuate the culture of toxic masculinity and shape the social narrative which invests men with inordinate power over women to do as they please with them.

Any attempt on the part of mass media to counter this narrative is to be welcomed. A Darlings or a Thappad may be at a remove from the helplessness that afflicts many victims of domestic violence in India, but they are empowering precisely because they tell women that they do not have to tolerate spousal violence and that they can and should seek justice for the grievous physical and psychological harm that has been done to them.

(Shuma Raha is a journalist and author)

Disclaimer: The views expressed above are the author's own. They do not necessarily reflect the views of DH.