Mariticide: When Marriage Turns into Motive
- Sakshi Mishra
- Feb 4
- 6 min read

In the dim corridors of criminal law, few terms carry the chilling weight of "mariticide," the intentional killing of one's husband. This serious crime often hides within the everyday fabric of marriage: love, loyalty, and the semblance of domestic peace, until underlying motives—be it greed, betrayal, prolonged abuse, or ambition—are revealed. Each instance of mariticide originates in a home once filled with daily routines, now captured in police reports, courtroom exhibits, and forensic evidence. The law, in its quest for truth, must penetrate these façades to expose the realities behind such intimate betrayals. India's judicial history is marked by cases that expose the deepest breaches of trust within domestic walls.
The infamous Nithari case (2005–06), although mainly remembered for its serial killings, serves as a grim reminder of how domestic spaces, traditionally seen as sanctuaries, can become sites of unimaginable betrayal and crime. Similarly, the Indrani Mukerjea case (2015), though not involving mariticide, highlighted the alleged orchestration of a daughter's murder by her own mother, revealing a disturbing pattern of manipulation and psychological control.
Such patterns, often examined by courts in marital murder cases, highlight how the pursuit and misuse of power within close relationships can erode not only marital bonds but the very foundation of family trust. Through careful legal scrutiny, Indian courts strive to untangle these complex webs, uncovering the underlying truths. The Shraddha Walkar Aaftab Poonawala case (2022) forced the nation to confront a chilling modern crime. Although this was the murder of a wife, it reignited important discussions about domestic violence, coercive control, and the disturbing ways in which marriages can hide psychological torment until the ultimate act of violence occurs. In many mariticide trials, defense attorneys strategically highlight prolonged abuse, marital discord, or psychological distress to reduce culpability, turning the courtroom into a dynamic arena of conflicting narratives, rather than a straightforward crime scene investigation. This approach challenges judges and juries to weigh emotional and circumstantial factors alongside forensic evidence, emphasizing the complexities inherent in such prosecutions. One of the most notorious cases echoing mariticide is that of 'Cyanide Mallika,' where the accused notoriously exploited marriage, systematically poisoning multiple men for financial gain. Although her crimes extended beyond the murder of spouses, this case exemplifies how matrimonial bonds can be used as tools of calculated criminality. The prosecution was compelled to address not only the serial murders but also the broader issue of fraudulent relationships deliberately engineered to facilitate these crimes. This forced the law to examine the intersection of trust, deception, and fatal intent, significantly expanding the scope of judicial scrutiny in cases rooted in matrimonial fraud and lethal manipulation. Mariticide is not merely an act of murder; it involves a legal dissection of the institution of marriage itself. Each case compels the judiciary to confront a fundamental question: How does justice respond when the person pledged to protect and cherish becomes the architect of deadly betrayal? In grappling with this dilemma, the law must carefully balance empathizing with the complex motives behind such acts and upholding the imperative to censure and punish the gravest violation of trust. This
ongoing judicial inquiry transforms every mariticide case into an arena where the boundaries between human desperation and criminal culpability are rigorously examined. In India, media and public discourse predominantly focus on violence against wives, particularly cases colloquially termed “dowry deaths.” However, crimes in which husbands become victims, specifically acts of mariticide, often receive little attention, both in reportage and legal consideration.
Notably, numerous cases remain sub judice, with public information limited mainly to initial charges, arrests, or mere suspicion. Rarely are definitive verdicts or trial outcomes made available to the public. From a legal records perspective, both police reports and official crime statistics seldom categorize mariticide or incidents where a wife is the primary accused in the killing of her husband. Instead, such offenses are grouped under generic headings like “murder” or “domestic crime,” making it difficult to accurately assess their scale or pattern.
This evasive treatment raises a critical legal and social question: Why do crimes against men, particularly husbands, within the context of matrimonial relationships, continue to be relegated to obscurity? Is India’s legal and societal framework unwittingly perpetuating a narrative that neglects male victims?
Until these questions are addressed transparently by lawmakers, law enforcement, and society at large, the true extent of such crimes may continue to be shrouded in mystery and insufficiently addressed within India's justice system. Shamli highway murder 2025, Atul Subhas case. These examples are not isolated; there are, in fact, numerous cases where men have tragically lost their lives, often simply because they are part of a system that exhibits a demonstrable gender bias.
From a legal standpoint, such recurring incidents raise serious questions about the objectivity and inclusiveness of our justice system. How many more lives must be lost before these patterns are acknowledged and addressed? The failure to systematically recognize, document, and investigate crimes against husbands not only distorts crime statistics but also undermines the foundational principle of equality before the law.
Why does the legal machinery in India continue to overlook male victims within matrimonial disputes? If justice is meant to be blind, then why is there a persistent gap in protection and recourse for men who fall victim to domestic violence or even mariticide? Until these systemic discrepancies are confronted and rectified, true legal equity will remain an aspiration rather than a reality within the Indian judicial context. Dowry harassment is not limited to a single gender; it can be inflicted upon either spouse, making it imperative that the legal framework addresses this broader reality.
To ensure true justice and equality, Section 498A of the Indian Penal Code must be amended. The revised provision should explicitly recognize any spouse or in-law as a potential victim of dowry-related abuse. Only by making protection universal, rather than selective, can the law fulfill its duty to safeguard all individuals, regardless of gender.
Should our laws not reflect the fundamental principle that every individual, whether husband, wife, or in-law, deserves equal protection from dowry harassment? Until this shift is made, the spirit of fairness and impartiality in our legal system will remain incomplete. The immediacy of arrests in alleged domestic abuse cases often enables false accusations to gain undue traction, sometimes at the expense of genuine justice. In an effort to restore balance and safeguard the rights of all parties, it is proposed that a mandatory pre-arrest investigation window of 48 to 72 hours be instituted. This critical period would ensure that decisions are based on substantive evidence rather than mere allegations.
During this investigation window, authorities should thoroughly verify medical records, diligently searching for any inconsistencies or indications of fabrication. In parallel, it is crucial to cross-examine digital evidence such as messages, phone calls, or emails. This step would help corroborate or dismiss the claims being made and establish a clearer understanding of the context.
Formal counseling sessions between the involved parties should also be facilitated within this period. These sessions can play a vital role in clarifying misunderstandings or unearthing the true motives behind the accusations. Furthermore, recording the preliminary statements of all parties on camera would ensure transparency and act as a deterrent against the propagation of false narratives.
Does not every accused individual deserve a fair chance before the irreversible step of arrest is taken? Instituting this measured and objective process would truly serve both the interests of justice and the principle of due process enshrined in Indian law. In my considered opinion, the current legal framework does not fully address the complexities and realities of domestic violence and marital crime as they affect all genders. It is incumbent upon lawmakers and the judiciary to recognize and address systemic biases, ensuring that every victim receives due recognition and redress. Only by pursuing genuine legal reform can we move towards a system where justice is not selective, but universally accessible and just.
The deaths of men like Atul Subhash and the surge of mariticide cases in Uttar Pradesh highlight a troubling pattern: legal systems remain attuned to only one kind of victim. These are not mere anomalies, but evidence of systemic bias. While the judiciary responds promptly to the grievances of women, it too often overlooks men silenced by false allegations or manipulated laws.
In courtrooms, truth grapples with narrative, and justice falters when the law is partial. Violence knows no gender, but our statutes often do.
Meaningful reform, not just sympathy, is essential. Laws that protect only one side ultimately fail to deliver true justice for all.
“Mariticide is the darkest clause in the contract of marriage unsigned, unseen, yet fatal.”



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