Duties to Herself: Marriage, Judgment, and the Modern Indian Woman
By Garima
The Twisha Sharma case has disturbed people not merely because of the allegations surrounding it, but because of how deeply relatable its emotional structure feels to countless middle class women in India. Across friend circles, hostel rooms, cafés, and late night conversations, young girls, especially those approaching the age where marriage becomes an inevitable social conversation, are discussing the same unsettling question: What exactly does the institution of marriage have to offer women if it demands the gradual erasure of who they are?
What has shaken so many women is not simply the tragedy of one case, but the terrifying realization that it could happen to any of us. Beneath the celebration of weddings and family values often lies an unspoken expectation that women must endlessly adjust, compromise, absorb pressure, and preserve the sanctity of marriage even at the cost of their individuality. And the larger, more uncomfortable question remains: how much abuse can be normalised in marriage for the sake of keeping the marriage alive?
People often argue that education empowers women. But how empowering is education if it does not translate into financial agency, emotional autonomy, or the ability to walk away safely? India continues to have one of the lowest female labour force participation rates in the world. A significant percentage of women work in the informal sector without financial security or independence. Many women leave the workforce entirely after marriage or motherhood due to domestic expectations and caregiving burdens. Even highly educated women are often expected to prioritise domestic duties over personal ambitions. The promise of empowerment remains incomplete when society still treats women’s careers as optional but their sacrifices as compulsory.
What makes the Twisha Sharma case even more unsettling is that it did not emerge from an uneducated or socially backward environment. Here were educated, articulate, urban individuals who outwardly represented progressiveness and modernity. Yet the public conversations and records surrounding the case reflected an extraordinary degree of control over a woman’s life: discussions around when she should have children, how she should perform domestic roles, even how and when she should pray. Religion, motherhood, marriage, all deeply personal aspects of a woman’s existence, appeared to become subjects of supervision and negotiation. That is what truly unsettles middle class sensibilities. Because it reveals that education alone does not necessarily dismantle patriarchy; sometimes it merely gives it more sophisticated language.
For many young women, this case has become a poignant reminder that marriage cannot become the graveyard of a woman’s identity. There are loving partnerships and kind men, certainly, but there is no “prince charming” who can replace a woman’s responsibility toward herself. That is why Henrik Ibsen’s Nora Helmer remains timeless even today. At the end of A Doll’s House, Nora realises that before anything else, she has a duty to herself, to understand herself, protect herself, and exist beyond the roles society imposes upon her. And perhaps that is the gentlest but most necessary reminder for young girls today: before becoming someone’s wife, daughter in law, or mother, they must first remain fully and courageously themselves.
The writer holds a Masters and works as a Digital Communications & Network Specialist. She’s a feminist youth leader under United Nations & G@WI Feminist Youth Leadership Programme.