Child rape isn’t dispute and marriage isn’t settlement

A minor girl, almost 15, was raped by a neighbourhood ‘bhaiya’ who was 22 years old. When her parents got to know what the child went through, they rushed to the police station in a fit of anger. They filed a complaint and an FIR was lodged against the youth. By the time the case finally came before the court, three years had passed. The girl was now 18 and the youth had proposed to marry the girl. Girls’ parents, who were once angry and tormented with the thought of the future of their child, had started shaking. Not in anger but in hope. The youth marrying their daughter was the perfect solution to their three-year ordeal. There would be no more judicial proceedings, court trips, society’s questions and their failing attempts to keep the family’s honour intact. They agreed and the court quashed all the charges against the youth because the dispute was “settled”. 

This is not a real story. But this is definitely someone’s lived reality. We probably cannot place her but we know that every POCSO case which ends in marriage and acquittal of the accused goes through a similar path, if not exactly the same path. 

When does marriage take centrestage in Indian households?

Primary education enrolment, which is typically from Grade 1 to 5, is almost universal in India. This means today, almost every child, irrespective of their gender, are in schools till they turn 7 or 8. But what happens when those children come home from schools, or when they turn 9 or 10, or in some fortunate cases 15 years of age? 

Children, especially girls, are taught to be good wives. They are, irrespective of all the anti-patriarchy slogans on social media and at Jantar Mantar, told that to be successful, a girl must marry. Even today, marriage is often the beginning and the end goal of a majority of families in India. Marriage is the solution to all the social, familial and economic problems. They say and believe that marriage alleviates poverty, ensures safety, preserves family honor and dignity and is what a girl should be prepared for.

So the answer to when does marriage take centrestage in Indian households, it is often right from the day a baby girl is born. 

How do we interpret when courts define justice differently?

When society goes astray or is clueless about the difference between right and wrong, just and unjust, the onus of being the guiding light often falls on our three pillars. Among them, judiciary is where the ball stops rolling or should stop rolling. Judiciary is where the line between right and wrong should become clear, deep and consistent. 

A rape is a rape is a rape. And a rape of a child is a criminal offence that cannot be written off. Marriage cannot dilute the crime. It is neither punishment nor justice. It is a compromise and just like a murder accused cannot, in any way, be acquitted if he promises to serve the family for the rest of his life, nor can a rapist be let scot free because he proposes to marry the girl. 

But the society often doesn’t see it like it. And so it is for the courts to ensure that the lines of justice are drawn clearly and loudly. But the courts seem to get it blurred too. 

For instance, Madhya Pradesh High Court recently exercised its inherent powers to quash criminal proceedings in a POCSO case, after noting that the parties had settled the dispute and were now married, holding that continuing the trial would serve no useful purpose and could prove catastrophic for both sides. Rape is not a dispute that can be settled. Rape is a crime and a punishment is the only justice that it calls for. 

Moreover, if the courts were united in this viewpoint, one could have sifted through the arguments and tried to reason with the judgment. But the courts vary too. 

In another case, the Gauhati High Court said that a romantic relationship does not grant a man “license” to force sexual relations upon a woman, refusing to quash a rape case involving a minor despite a compromise between the accused and the survivor’s family.

What these contrasting judgments ultimately reveal is a deeper uncertainty within the system itself. When courts interpret justice differently in cases of child sexual abuse, the message that reaches society is equally divided. For a family already grappling with stigma, fear, and fatigue, such inconsistencies do more than confuse. They influence choices. They make compromise appear acceptable, even desirable. And slowly, justice begins to look negotiable.

Which brings us back to the girl in the opening story.

If the law allows marriage to become an escape route, then what appears as consent may, in reality, be coercion shaped by circumstances. What is seen as resolution may, in truth, be surrender. Moreover, consent for a child under 18 doesn’t exist in our laws. 

The question, then, is not whether marriage can bring closure. It is whether the system should ever allow it to replace justice. Because when a crime as grave as rape can be settled behind closed doors, the line between right and wrong does not just blur. It begins to disappear.

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