New Delhi- In the heart of a society deeply entrenched in patriarchy and caste hierarchies, a woman's body often becomes the ultimate site of violence, humiliation, and control. Be it as a punishment for defiance, a tool to silence dissent, or a warning to an entire community, stripping a woman naked is an act that exposes the brutal realities of gender, caste, and power.
These atrocities are not isolated incidents; they are reflections of a systemic failure where laws, societal norms, and cultural complacency converge to enable such violence.
The question looms large: Why is it normal to disrobe a woman in India?
Behind this question lie countless stories of unimaginable cruelty, resilience, and resistance—narratives that force us to confront the rot within our social structures.
This report unravels the layers of violence through the voices of survivors who were stripped not just of their clothes, but of their dignity and humanity. Their stories, however, refuse to remain tales of despair; they are also symbols of resistance, courage, and the urgent demand for justice.
(The names have been changed to protect their identities).
It was March 14, 2006, a dark day that altered her life forever. Eighteen years ago, in Telgaon, Maharashtra, Ramabai's life was shattered. Stripped naked and paraded through her village, her only 'crime' was challenging the caste hierarchies as a Dalit woman. Her seven-year-old son Ajay was dragged from his school, stripped and paraded naked along with his mother and subjected to unimaginable public humiliation—a scene seared into their memories forever.
The reason behind Ramabai's horrific public humiliation and subsequent social ostracism in her village seems rooted in a toxic mix of caste-based prejudice, gendered control, and a suspicion that painted her as a threat to powerful figures.
RamaBai single mother from a marginalized community, was perceived as "overly smart" and defiant simply for asserting her autonomy—first in her divorce proceedings and later in her travels outside the village.
Telgaon has a population of about 2,500, with 80% being Marathas and other upper castes, while the rest belong to Dalit and backward communities. Ramabai is from the Charmakar community, which is classified as a Scheduled Caste.
Despite the conviction of the accused in 2020, justice remains elusive. Ramabai's compensation of Rs. 50,000, is a cruel reminder of how little value is placed on the suffering of Dalit women.
"They walk past my house countless times every day, their eyes full of malice. When there's no work, we lock ourselves inside, living in constant fear. I don’t know when they might storm in and attack us again. With no police protection, how can I feel safe? My son and I are barely surviving. All I ask is for the government to help us start over—give us a safe home and a small shop to make a living. Is that too much for someone who has already lost everything?" she says.
Recently, she submitted an application to the Social Welfare Department demanding Rs. 1 crore 10 lakh as compensation.
Mumbai based Dalit activist, Nagsen Sonare, National President of the Ambedkar Center for Justice and Peace (ACJP), expresses deep concern over the plight of Dalit women, referencing Ramabai’s case. He states, “ The mother-son duo have been living under constant threat, even though the accused were arrested and sentenced to five years in prison. They appealed and got bail, walking free while she remains trapped in fear. How can a marginalized woman fight against casteist oppressors when even her basic police protection has been withdrawn? It’s a mockery of justice and a glaring failure of the system.”
The Beltola incident is considered one of the most shameful days in Assam's history. According to government records, one person died and 230 were injured. However, the brutality inflicted on women was even more appalling. A 40-year-old woman was gang-raped, and a tribal minor girl was stripped naked and beaten. When the images of the incident surfaced, the entire nation hung its head in shame.
In 2007, Rashmi Orang, the 16-year-old tribal student activist, was part of a peaceful protest in Assam when her life took a devastating turn. She was a member of the Biswanath Chariali unit of the All Adivasi Students' Association of Assam (AASAA) in Sonitpur district. The AASAA had organized a 'Chalo Dispur' protest program on November 24 to demand tribal status for tea garden workers.
The protest spiraled into chaos as a mob descended upon her. Rashmi's eyes widen in horror as she recounts the traumatic events of that fateful day.
"Someone from the crowd shouted, 'Strip her naked and beat her!' I shuddered at the thought. I pleaded with them, 'Beat me as much as you want, even kill me, but don't strip me naked, don't humiliate me.' But they didn't listen... They tore my clothes apart. There were many hands on my body, everywhere... I was left with no clothes on, and there were many people on the street. I ran frantically, screaming for help, but no one came to my aid. Women were standing outside their homes, but they didn't help me. Some traffic police were present, but they just watched the spectacle. A man kicked me hard, and I screamed... Men were laughing, chasing me, while women remained silent. I ran for about 2 kilometers to escape, but the police arrived late and instead of catching the culprits, they lathi-charged us, the tribals, and even beat me up."
Rashmi recounts that the terrifying ordeal on the streets was just the beginning. The trauma lingered for years. The incident took a toll on her mental health, and she struggled to cope with the trauma.
Rashmi states that the entire world witnessed the incident that occurred with her. "The faces of those who humiliated me are clearly visible, but the police arrested only four people. However, they too were acquitted, and now they roam freely in Guwahati. If what happened to me had occurred with a non-tribal person, the police would have arrested the accused and ensured they were punished. But in this country, the dignity of poor tribal people, especially daughters, holds no value."
She mentions that the case was ongoing in the High Court until some time ago. "I received a summons to appear in court only once, but I was seven months pregnant at the time and couldn't appear. Later, I was informed that the court had closed the case." She further states that due to a lack of financial resources, she has been unable to pursue the case.
"Fifteen years have passed since the incident, but I have yet to receive justice from the police, the government, or the judiciary. Despite numerous women's organizations, no one has come forward to help me. I wish a lawyer would come forward and offer to take up my case pro bono, as I don't have the means to pursue it in the Supreme Court."
She feels deep pain due to the discrimination faced by the tribal community. She cites the 2013 incident in Guwahati where a Brahmin girl was molested by 30 men, resulting in widespread outrage. The girl received a government job, a compensation of one crore rupees, and the accused were punished.
" Sonia and Rahul Gandhi came to Guwahati to console the girl, but In contrast, my case was ignored, and no one came forward to support me" she states. Rashmi got married to Bholoram Murari in 2014 and has an 8-year-old son, Sahil, who studies in the third grade.
Despite all odds,Rashmi refused to be silenced. Emerging as an activist, she began exposing human trafficking and fighting for the rights of tribal women. Rejecting compensation and government jobs, she transformed her pain into power, challenging the complicity of a society that normalizes such violence. “They tried to humiliate me, but they could not defeat me,” she says, her resilience echoing louder than the violence she endured.
In traditional Indian marriages, wives are socially conditioned to adopt a passive role, while husbands maintain a dominant position. This power dynamic reinforces the harmful perspective that men have an inherent right to sexual access, regardless of their wife's consent. As a result, married women experience sexual violence most frequently at the hands of their own husbands, reflecting the deeply entrenched patriarchal norms that undermine female autonomy and bodily integrity.
In June 2016, 25-year-old Shanti Meena from Kasotia village in Rajasthan's Udaipur district endured a horrific ordeal for defying societal norms. After eloping with her lover, she became the target of unimaginable cruelty orchestrated by her in-laws. They stripped her naked, tied her to a pole for hours, whipped her mercilessly, and forced her to carry her husband on her back for three kilometers under the scorching sun.
The entire village either actively participated in or passively watched this barbaric spectacle, shrouded in complicit silence. Shanti was paraded like an animal, her dignity stripped away to serve as an example of punishment for her defiance.
Her supposed crime? Exercising her agency within the framework of Naata Pratha, a traditional custom prevalent in Rajasthan's tribal communities that allows men and women to leave their spouses and choose new partners. Shanti's decision to elope crushed her husband’s male ego, triggering this degrading display of patriarchal vengeance. Brought back to the village, she faced public humiliation in a chilling reminder of how deep-rooted misogyny operates under the guise of tradition and honor.
Though her physical wounds have healed, the psychological scars remain. Whom would you chose to live now, the lover or your husband?
To this Shanti has a stern answer- " None of them. One married me and one loved me but both came out as men who failed to protect me, I am not educated but i can do all odd jobs and earn enough to fend for myself" she said then.
In 2023 alone, over 83,000 cases of assault with intent to outrage a woman’s modesty were recorded across India.
The most disturbing incident in May 2023, in which two Kuki-Zo women were forcibly paraded naked and filmed by a mob in Manipur's Kangpokpi district, sent shockwaves across the nation when the horrific video surfaced in July 2023.
In another incident, a woman was stripped, attacked for questioning land encroachment in Karnataka's Belagavi. The daughter of the victim informed the police that the woman was stripped and attacked on July 31, 2023 and that the woman's son too was attacked on August 1.
In December 2023, a mother was paraded naked on the streets in Vantamuri village near Belagavi city after her son eloped with a local girl. The girl's relatives stripped the elderly woman naked and paraded her in the village before tying her to an electric pole and beating her. The case was reported from a place located close to the Suvarna Vidhana Soudha in Belagavi, where the winter session of the Assembly was underway.
In August 2023, a 20-year-old pregnant woman in Rajasthan was paraded naked by her husband and in-laws after she allegedly left him for another man.
In July 2021, a 23-year-old tribal woman in Gujarat suffered a similar fate for eloping with another man.
In April 2018, a minor girl was allegedly molested by a group of local youths in Jehanabad, Bihar. The incident occurred when the girl, who had gone to a photo studio with a friend, accepted a ride from a male acquaintance. He took her to a secluded spot, where she was molested by him and a group of local youths, who also filmed the incident.
In May 2015, five Dalit women in Uttar Pradesh were paraded naked and caned by members of a higher caste after one of their relatives eloped with a Dalit boy.
In 2014, a 45-year-old woman in Rajasthan's Rajsamand district was paraded naked on a donkey after being accused of killing her nephew.
Hidden within this figure are thousands of untold stories of women who are stripped or assaulted as punishment or public shaming. These are not random acts but deliberate displays of power, caste dominance, and patriarchal assertion. Whether in villages or cities, in the name of ‘justice’ or vendetta, women’s bodies continue to be used as tools of retribution, reflecting a societal conscience that has normalized such violence.
Dr. Gaytri Tiwari, a retired professor from the Department of Human Development & Family Studies at Maharana Pratap University of Agriculture and Technology (MPUAT) Udaipur, offered her insightful perspective on the issue of gender-based violence.
Tiwari states, "Gender-based violence is a complex issue, exacerbated by legal inadequacies and societal norms. The pervasive treatment of women as secondary citizens, relegated to inferior status within families, perpetuates a culture of disrespect and lays the groundwork for deeply ingrained patriarchal values."
She adds, "I firmly believe that this issue transcends rural-urban divides, with educated urban women facing equal levels of gender-based violence, however, they often conceal their vulnerability due to fear of social stigma and repercussions on their social standing."
Tiwari also highlighted the inadequacies of the legal system, stating, "The lethargic and tardy legal system accelerates the problem, with justice often taking years to deliver. Consequently, gender-based violence remains a pervasive issue that has not been effectively addressed."
Traditional social structures predominantly favor male dominance, with women often viewed as subordinate, creating a power dynamic that manifests through victim-blaming cultures, familial honor systems that silence survivors, and cultural interpretations that reinforce women's perceived subservient status.
At the core of these heinous acts lies the deadly intersection of caste, gender, and patriarchy. Dalit and tribal women face double vulnerability—their caste identity and gender make them prime targets for punishment. Whether it is land disputes, inter-caste marriages, or perceived defiance of societal norms, dominant groups often resort to sexual violence and public humiliation to 'teach a lesson' to these women and their communities.
Bhanwar Meghwanshi, an author and Dalit rights activist from Rajasthan, explains: “Sexual violence, especially stripping a woman, is used as a tool to assert dominance and silence Dalit and Adivasi communities. Women’s bodies become battlefields in caste conflicts and patriarchal disputes.”
He further adds, "Women in these communities are disproportionately subjected to violence, primarily driven by caste-based practices and deep-seated religious superstitions. The patriarchal caste system imposes stringent restrictions on women's autonomy, governing their marriage, divorce, and choice of partner. Any attempt to defy these norms is met with brutal violence, both within the caste and family. Furthermore, women from these communities are vulnerable to sexual violence perpetrated by the upper-caste community, particularly in cases related to land rights, where rape is used as a tool of revenge. Inter-caste and inter-religious marriages often result in collective rape or honor killings."
Religion-based violence is another significant threat faced by Dalit and tribal community women. In these communities, various forms of hypocrisy are perpetuated in the name of deities, spirits, and witches. In rural areas, unscrupulous individuals masquerading as spiritual leaders deceive women into believing that witches are responsible for their poverty, illness, and other problems. Widowed Dalit women are frequently targeted and branded as witches, triggering a cycle of violence against them.
"Women accused of witchcraft are often subjected to inhumane treatment, including being stripped naked, paraded through the village, and humiliated. Honor killings are commonly carried out to prevent women from exercising their agency in marriage, while sexual violence is perpetrated under the guise of witchcraft to usurp the property of single women. Ultimately, caste and religion play a devastating role in perpetuating gender-based violence", Meghwanshi asserts.
The NCRB’s Crime in India Report 2022 highlights the alarming persistence of witch-hunting in India, with 85 people killed in witchcraft-related violence in 2022 alone. Between 2012 and 2022, 1,184 such deaths were recorded, with Jharkhand (22.6%), Odisha (16.1%), Madhya Pradesh (15.1%), and Chhattisgarh (13.1%) accounting for the majority.
Since 2000, over 2,500 women have been murdered on accusations of witchcraft. While six states—Bihar, Jharkhand, Chhattisgarh, Odisha, Rajasthan, and Assam—have specific laws criminalizing witch-hunting, laws in Maharashtra and Karnataka focus on black magic and superstition without explicitly addressing witchcraft. Women are lynched, hacked, their heads shaved, sexually assaulted, made to eat faeces, disrobed. " The only time it becomes visible is in cases of death [nearly 98 per cent of witch-hunting deaths involve women]. But these women are not just dying; they live in isolation, are stigmatised and stripped of dignity,” reveals Dipta Bhog from Nirantar Trust, a community-level feminist research and advocacy organisation based in Delhi.
We spoke to Jharkhand based social activist Padma Shri awardee Chhutni Mahato, the 64 year old woman whose story is a harrowing tale of the deeply rooted superstitions and prejudices prevalent in certain rural areas of the state.
Born in 1959, Chhutni , a simple woman from Birbans village in Thana Gamharia, Jharkhand, has been advocating for awareness about the fallacy of witchcraft not only in her own village but throughout the country.
Chhutni Mahato's life was marred by a devastating accusation of witchcraft in 1995. When a neighbor's daughter fell ill, the village panchayat declared Chhutni a witch, subjecting her to relentless harassment, abuse, and humiliation. She was forced to endure horrific assaults, including attempted rape, and was even coerced into drinking human excreta as part of misguided exorcism rituals.
Shunned by her community, Chhutni was denied entry to her own home, forcing her to spend nights under a tree with her children, facing immense hardship and injustice.
"I could not let others suffer the same fate I endured. After finding solace in my maternal home with the support of my brothers, I resolved to end this cruel practice of branding innocent women as witches," says Mahato, a survivor of witch-hunting herself.
Through sheer determination and compassion, Chhutni has rescued over 130 women from harassment and discrimination and saved the lives of more than 50 women who were at risk of falling victim to this barbaric tradition. "Every woman I help reminds me why I chose this path. It’s not just about saving lives; it’s about restoring dignity to those who were stripped of it unjustly," she adds.
Her exceptional efforts were recognized in 2021 when she was honored with the Padma Shri, one of India’s highest civilian awards. "This award is not just mine—it belongs to every woman who fought alongside me and every life we’ve saved together."
Despite the brutality they endured, survivors like Ramabai, Sita and Shanti refuse to be defined by their trauma. Ramabai continues to demand rightful restitution, her resilience standing tall against state apathy. Sita Orang turned her humiliation into activism, becoming a beacon of hope for tribal women. Shanti's story challenges us to confront the deep-rooted misogyny that enables such violence.
A lecturer of law and a Dalit activist based in Kerala, Bindu Ammini is among the first two women of reproductive age to enter the Sabarimala temple after the Supreme Court of India’s September 2018 ruling to allow every Hindu pilgrim, irrespective of their age, caste, and gender, to do so.
However, when Bindu Ammini entered the temple along with Kanaka Durga, they were met with physical, verbal, and mental harassment. As recently as January 2022, Bindu Ammini was repeatedly assaulted by an RSS member (Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh, a Hindu right-wing organisation). In addition to multiple attacks, she was also cyber-bullied, with a fake pornographic video that uses her face being circulated.
When asked why she entered a temple at risk to her well-being, she said: “I did it to reclaim the dignity of womanhood, Bindu who has relocated to New Delhi to fight for a larger cause, offers a clarion call: “Women must break free from stereotypes and speak up. Unless we speak, no one will speak for us.”
The Global Gender Gap Report 2024, released by the World Economic Forum in June 2024, too, paints a grim picture of progress towards gender equality—one that resonates deeply with the violence and systemic inequalities faced by women in India. The report estimates it will take 134 years—five generations beyond the 2030 Sustainable Development Goal (SDG) target—to achieve full gender parity.
With a global score of 68.5 per cent, reflecting minimal improvement from last year, the findings highlight persistent barriers across economic participation, education, health, and political empowerment. While 97 per cent of the world's economies have closed more than 60 per cent of the gap, the question looms: who is left behind?
For marginalized and vulnerable women, the gap manifests not only in statistics but in the everyday battles for dignity, safety, and survival. As we delve into harrowing stories of women stripped of their rights, agency, and often even their clothing, this report becomes a stark reminder of the structural inequalities that fuel such atrocities, amplifying the vulnerability of those already on society's fringes.
The offence of outraging a woman’s modesty is codified under Section 354 of the Indian Penal Code (IPC) and Section 74 of Bharatiya Nyaya Sanhita (BNS). It is designed to protect women from acts of assault or criminal force that insult their sense of decency and dignity. While the IPC does not explicitly define "modesty," it broadly encompasses propriety, decency, and femininity, regardless of the victim's age.
To constitute the offence, two essential elements must be proven: the act of assault or criminal force and the intent or knowledge that such an act is likely to outrage the woman’s modesty. The focus is primarily on the intent of the accused, making the victim's reaction secondary to establishing culpability.
Examples of such acts include inappropriate touching, forcible disrobing, or making indecent gestures or remarks. The law aims to deter actions that degrade or violate a woman’s sense of morality and decency.
The punishment prescribed for this offence is imprisonment ranging from one to five years, along with a fine. It is categorized as a cognizable, non-bailable, and non-compoundable offence, emphasizing its seriousness and the need for stringent legal action.
Despite legal provisions, India's lack of a robust victim and witness protection program severely hampers the justice system. Without adequate protection, victims and witnesses become reluctant to testify, leading to dropped cases and low conviction rates. Even when trials are completed, the pace is remarkably slow, with Indian trials taking an average of six years, in stark contrast to Canada's 300 days for sexual assault trials. This sluggish pace is likely due to various factors, including inadequate resources, inefficiencies in the justice system, and lack of effective witness protection measures.
Stripping as a form of violence is not an isolated act; it is a manifestation of systemic failures enabled by caste hierarchies, patriarchal norms, and societal silence. True justice demands more than token compensation or superficial arrests. It calls for dismantling the structures that perpetuate such violence—from law enforcement to judicial systems, education to community accountability.
For every Ramabai, Rashmi and Shanti, there are countless others whose stories remain buried in silence. It is our collective responsibility to listen, amplify their voices, and demand systemic change. Until then, the question will continue to haunt us: Why is it so easy to disrobe a woman in India?
The time to act is now, for as long as women’s bodies remain battlefields, we remain complicit in this war against humanity.
( Geetha Sunil Pillai is a Laadli Media Fellow. The opinions and views expressed are those of the author. Laadli and UNFPA do not necessarily endorse the views)
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