Individual freedom, family dignity, and a profound social analysis of a tragedy
“Freedom and tradition—both are right in their own right, but when they collide, the first thing to break is the ordinary family. The law does its work, society persists, and caught in the middle is the family that has neither rebelled nor committed a crime—yet it becomes the biggest victim.”
In a nation like India, with its vast and diverse social structure, individual rights and the collective norms of society constantly clash. The Constitution grants individuals freedom and the right to choose a life partner of their choice, but social traditions cannot accept a girl or boy making life decisions that are contrary to the wishes of their family and the beliefs of their community. This conflict is not new, but its tension has become even more acute in today’s ground realities.
This conflict was clearly exposed in a recent tragedy, when a young woman married a young man from her own village—a marriage that was perfectly legal, yet completely unacceptable in the eyes of society. Faced with social opposition, the Panchayat’s prohibition, family anguish, and prestige pressures, the girl moved to the city, but after some time, returned to her ancestral village as a daughter-in-law. This return was seen as a challenge to society and put immense psychological pressure on the family. This pressure escalated the situation to the point where the brother murdered his own sister. This single moment not only took away a life but also destroyed the entire family.
This incident isn’t just an attack on humanity; it’s also a mirror in which we can clearly see the greatest irony of our times—the law says one thing, society says another. Individual freedom goes one way, while traditions pull in another. The family that stands between these two is often injured on both sides. The law sets the age of adulthood, but it fails to understand the emotional structure of rural society, the family’s prestige, and community pressures. Meanwhile, society views the right to freedom as “disobedience” or “rebellion,” and imposes responsibilities on the family that are impossible to fulfil.
The family itself becomes the biggest victim of this conflict. The daughter’s departure from the village, comments from relatives, pressure from the Panchayat, and the threat of social prestige—all these events shake a home from within. The law urges the family to accept the girl, while society pressures them to reject her. These two forces tear the family apart—one part that the mind accepts, and the other that society refuses to accept. In such circumstances, reason becomes clouded, and emotions begin to dominate decisions.
The most horrifying aspect of this incident was that 95 percent of the comments on social media “justified” the murder. This isn’t just the opinion of a few individuals, but rather a sign of a dangerous collective mindset developing in society. When a society, under the pressure of its emotions and traditions, begins to consider even a crime like murder as justice, it is a very serious situation for any civilized system. The law has power only as long as society gives it moral support. When society begins to moralize violence, the law becomes not weak, but irrelevant. And this situation is the biggest warning for any nation.
The question of freedom of marriage also emerges from a new perspective in this incident. Indian law recognizes that a person is mature and capable of making independent decisions between the ages of 18 and 21. But is this age truly sufficient to make life’s most important decisions without family experience, social understanding, and understanding of future responsibilities? In the Indian family system, marriage isn’t just a matter of two individuals; it’s a matter of two families, relationships, and societies. Therefore, an impulsive decision made at a young age affects not just the individual but the entire family.
This is why many argue that parental consent should be required for marriage, at least until the age of 30. This idea stems from social experience, but is constitutionally problematic. If parental consent were made mandatory, it could lead to excessive pressure on young people, and in many cases, even repression. Yet, it is also true that families bear the brunt of the consequences of marriages conducted outside the family. This conflict is so profound that neither side can be completely justified or completely wrong.
Society often says that the girl “committed multiple murders in the family”—this language is emotional, not legal. The law cannot criminalize emotional death. But the family understands it as real because they experience it firsthand. This is the gap that is most difficult to bridge. The law says the decision is personal; society says the decision is collective. And between these two statements, the family around which such incidents arise is torn apart.
In this case, the family that chose neither crime nor rebellion suffered the greatest losses. The girl lost her life, the brother’s life ended in prison, the parents lost both a daughter and a son, the economic and social foundation of the family was shaken, and the children’s future became uncertain. However, for society, it remained a mere topic of discussion, and for the government, a mere case file.
The question is, what can the government do? Banning elopement isn’t the solution, but reforms to the process are needed. Mandatory counselling before contested marriages, family-youth mediation, clear limits on the powers of panchayats, and education on social responsibility in schools and colleges—all these steps are essential. Judicial and administrative institutions also need to understand the social suffering of families.
Yet government and law alone cannot solve the problem. Until society prioritizes dialogue over violence, until families choose dialogue over anger, and until young people stop basing their decisions on impulse, such tragedies will not stop.
Freedom does not mean arbitrariness, and tradition does not mean oppression. The balance between the two is the basis of civilization.
Ultimately, it must be understood that in the battle between law and society, no one wins – it is always a person and a family who loses.
