In Kashmir, men’s struggles with domestic abuse remain largely hidden, as stigma and a lack of legal support silences their pain, Babra Wan reports
Hesitation, nervousness, and confusion were etched on Mohammad Nabi’s face, his reddened hands rubbing against each other as he recounted his ordeal.
“As strange as it may sound, I used to be beaten by my wife on several occasions,” he said, his voice heavy with shame. “Being a man, I never spoke about it to anyone. This is the first time I am opening up.”
Mohammad, a 39-year-old from a small South Kashmir village, is an engineer by education but now runs a shop in his locality. He and his wife met during college and were quickly drawn to each other. “It was love at first sight,” he recalled. “When I saw her for the first time, I knew she was the one.”
In September 2014, the couple got married with the blessings of their families. “Everything was going well. I was working hard to secure a government job,” he said. However, as his attempts repeatedly failed, cracks began to appear in their relationship. “That was when the arguments started.”
Initially, the disagreements were limited to verbal spats. “There was constant use of abusive language. We both hurled insults at each other,” he admitted. The tensions, at first confined to the couple, soon drew their families into the fray. “When things began escalating, our families stepped in,” he said, adding that their intervention temporarily restored peace.
Hidden Pain
However, the calm was short-lived. The fights resurfaced, this time with greater intensity. “The arguments escalated into physical violence. She began hitting me,” Mohammad said, his tone sombre. “At first, it was with small things like the TV remote. Then she started throwing objects.”
The situation soon spiralled out of control. “There were times when she would grab my neck in anger. I would always run away because I did not want the situation to escalate further,” he said, his voice trailing off.
For several months, the situation seemed to stabilise, offering a semblance of peace. However, the fragile calm did not last long. Tensions resurfaced, manifesting in constant verbal disputes and, at times, physical altercations. “Even though we had constant verbal fights and frequent physical altercations, we both decided to give each other the chances we deserved, for the sake of our children and family,” said Muhammad.
Despite their efforts to reconcile, the emotional toll on Muhammad was profound. “I suffered mentally a lot,” he admitted. “Few people know about this, but I went to a psychiatrist to help me with my growing mental mess. I used to cry in the washroom. I used to beat my head because of all those violent episodes and altercations.” The strife affected not only Muhammad but also his children, particularly his daughter. Their well-being became the couple’s primary motivation to avoid taking drastic steps. “For the sake of my children, we decided to compromise,” he added, underscoring the heavy burden of maintaining a fractured household.
Hushed Scruffles
Muhammad’s story is not unique. In Kashmir, the harassment of men in their homes remains a hidden issue that is usually talked about in hushed tones. Social stigma and rigid cultural norms silence men, discouraging them from seeking help. Without formal support systems or specific legal protections, emotional, psychological, and sometimes physical abuse continues unchecked. Masculine ideals and scepticism about such claims further deter men from speaking out.
Yasir, a Srinagar resident, shares a similar tale of a brief but turbulent marriage. Married in May 2024, Yasir’s initial joy soon turned to despair. “For the first month, everything was fine. Then the torture started. It was not physical but mental,” he said. His wife’s extreme suspicion and controlling behaviour strained their relationship. “She questioned everything, even calls from friends. She assumed things that were not there and became toxic,” he explained.
Despite Yasir’s repeated efforts to address the issues, the cycle of apologies and unfulfilled promises persisted. “She would cry, apologise, and promise to change, but her behaviour never improved. I kept forgiving her,” he said. Over time, Yasir realised the relationship was draining him. “I no longer felt excited to come home. I was mentally exhausted, and our constant fights became unbearable,” he admitted.
For Yasir, marriage represented peace and companionship. Instead, it became a source of distress. “Her negativity consumed what could have been a beautiful relationship,” he reflected. Despite their struggles, Yasir and his wife are now living apart, hoping the separation will allow for personal growth and healing. “We both need to work on ourselves. Our families are supportive, and we are hopeful this time apart will bring the best for both of us,” he said.
A Deep-Rooted Issue
Yasir’s story sheds light on a rarely acknowledged issue: the emotional and mental abuse endured by men in marriages, especially in Kashmir. Cultural norms in the region impose ideals of toughness on men, leaving no space for vulnerability. Emotional abuse, manipulation, and constant criticism often go unrecognised, with many men suffering silently out of fear of mockery or societal judgment.
The problem is exacerbated by false accusations, financial exploitation, and threats of public humiliation. A local psychologist noted the lack of legal and social support for men facing domestic harassment. “This neglect fosters an environment where such experiences are trivialised or ignored,” she said.
The psychologist emphasised the need for societal awareness, legal reforms, and safe spaces for men to share their struggles without fear of stigma. “Victims of emotional abuse often suffer from chronic stress, anxiety, and depression, leading to a deep sense of helplessness and loneliness,” she explained. The long-term impact includes eroded self-esteem, self-doubt, and diminished self-worth.
Men frequently turn to unhealthy coping mechanisms, such as substance abuse, or withdraw socially. The fear of public shame prevents many from seeking help, further harming their mental health. “In severe cases, prolonged distress can lead to suicidal thoughts or actions, highlighting the urgent need for systemic recognition of these issues,” she added.
Yasir’s narrative underscores a silent crisis. Without societal change and institutional support, countless men will continue to endure their struggles alone, their voices unheard.
Behind Closed Doors
A 55-year-old man, married for over three decades, shared his deeply personal ordeal. “If you want to see how a broken man looks, you should look at me carefully,” he said. “My wife is a wonderful woman, a great mother to my children, and a beautiful homemaker. But she constantly harasses me mentally. I have cried in front of her, begging her to stop the mental torture. The shouting, the arguments—there is no end to it. Our elder daughter, who is 27, refuses to marry because of what she has witnessed in our marriage.”
The man described how his wife’s behaviour has pushed him to the brink. “There have been days when, during dinner, she started a fight or began taunting me. I would leave the table without finishing my meal. There have been moments when I contemplated suicide. Imagine how torturous it must be for a grown man like me to think of ending his life.”
He insisted that his experience was far from unique. “If you think this is uncommon, you are mistaken,” he said. “I know others who suffer the same. A friend of mine had a heart attack because of the constant harassment he faced from his wife and her family. But who talks about people like us?”

Generational Impact
Bari is a professional with a good property scattered across Kashmir. He married a Srinagar lady who is also a good professional. The life was normal till they became proud parents to two children. Then, for no apparent reason, the man started becoming a target of ridicule and critique. It reached a level that one day the woman took her two kids and started living in a rented flat in Srinagar. The man, hoping the situation will improve one day, would feed them by paying a good amount every month.
After many years, a relative of the two said, the woman was counselled to return home and live with her husband. She obliged. “She only came and stayed as a stranger in the house for maybe a month or more,” the relative said. “Then one day when her husband left for office, she drove her kids and her belongings to a new flat she had hired. For many months now she is living on her own.” She was approached by some relatives but she refused to return and, interestingly, she offered no reason for her behaviour.
Finding no plausible reason, the relative said they were seeking answers to the phenomenon – the lady had a decent man as her husband, they have two children, the man has enough property and multiple houses and still she lives separately. “We found that this was a family tradition,” he said. “Her mother had done the same thing to her husband and her two aunts – mother’s sisters – had the same story. They all married had children, deserted their husbands after a good spell of torture and then filed cases to get the property.”
Ali is another instance. A well-earning migrant to the city, he fell in love, married and settled with a professional and raised a family. “For the initial few years, it was hanky dory and then tensions took off,” Ali said, “By the time I realised that I was perhaps better single than married, we had two children.” For the sake of their children, the couple continued living in an “abusive” relationship but managed to have everything basic to life.
“For most of the last many years, my wife was talking rough and bad about me to our kids and I was ignoring it thinking they would eventually realise,” Ali said. “Now, when my kids understand life better, they have realised that whatever was fed to them against me was incorrect and now they hate their mother,” Ali, who believes he suffered the torture of his spouse for the sake of his kids has eventually resulted in an abnormal upbringing of them. “Ideally, I should be happy that my kids have understood the crisis our family had but I am unhappy because my kids have lost even a minuscule of respect for their mother which adds to my pain. I lost the prime of my conjugal life to abuse and now our kids are losing their precious time to hate – all the three of us have suffered.”
Harassment beyond Marriage
A man, speaking anonymously, shared his ongoing battle for his brother’s freedom, who has been jailed following his wife’s suicide. “When we talk about harassment, it is not just spousal harassment,” he said. “Both my brother and his late wife were victims. She was constantly harassed by her family, which led to her suicide. Now my brother is in jail, even though he had no role in her death.”

In his mid-forties, the man revealed how the fight for justice has upended his own life. “My wife harasses me too. She says I should stop pursuing this case and focus on my family, or she will file a domestic violence case against me. She has spoken so ill of me in the neighbourhood that I barely leave my home. On one side, I have my innocent brother, and on the other, my wife is tormenting me.”
Breaking down, he spoke of the immense emotional toll. “Had Allah not been with me, I do not know what would have been left for me. Your spouse is meant to be your support, but I have never seen that peace or love in my marriage. Everything in my marriage is unfortunate. I guess both my brother and I are unlucky in this regard.”
Emotional Abuse
Men and women are supposed to be closest to each other once they land in a relationship and start raising a family. They have emotional interdependence and financial reliance on each other. The partnership is built on love, compassion, and respect to the extent that in Muslim societies they are seen as each other’s garment, which has grace, beauty, and the embellishment of the body.
In too many marriages in Kashmir, however, the men suffer emotional abuse that touches the levels of torture and turmoil. “We have everything at home but we do not have anything that we could call peace of mind,” Ali said. “To the entire world, we are a couple, a happy, self-made family but that is incorrect. We are not a couple at all. We are two strangers caught in a situation that we share the house, people call our home.” Ali said almost every fifth marriage in Kashmir somehow falls in this category in which the husband, a victim of emotional abuse, is sick, suffering from psychiatric diseases or simply cardiac issues. Health and medical science have established decades earlier that are linked to happiness in marriage in cthe ase of married people.
This abuse, Ali added could be a major factor in pushing “discarded” men from seeking emotional support from elsewhere thus pushing society to a new abnormality. In cases of physical torture, the men have something to show up and cry about and explain, Ali pointed out, but in case of emotional abuse the men are sitting ducks – they do not talk, they cry in their private spaces and eventually internalise it to the extent that it consumes them as human beings.
Allegations and Fallout
In many cases, men find themselves ensnared in false accusations tied to domestic violence, dowry demands, or emotional abuse. These allegations can have devastating repercussions, from protracted court battles to societal ostracism and irreparable damage to personal and professional reputations. The fear of imprisonment, public judgment, and the lengthy judicial process can take an enormous toll on mental and emotional health.
“Men often feel isolated, as friends and family hesitate to get involved in legal disputes,” explained a psychologist, who requested anonymity. “The financial strain of legal fees and the risk of losing one’s job only add to the burden.”

The psychologist highlighted the psychological consequences of false accusations. “The emotional toll includes anxiety, depression, and a sense of hopelessness. The traditional notion that men cannot be victims perpetuates an environment where their side of the story is often disregarded. Addressing this issue requires a balanced approach to ensure that laws protect genuine victims without being misused for personal vendettas.”
A System of Disparity
“There are no proper laws for men,” lamented a practising lawyer, reflecting a sentiment shared by many advocates for men’s rights. He explained that India’s legal framework on domestic violence is largely designed to protect women. The Protection of Women from Domestic Violence Act, 2005 (PWDVA), is gender-specific, providing exclusive relief and protection to women facing abuse. Male victims, however, are excluded from this legislation, leaving them with limited legal recourse.
Men can turn to gender-neutral provisions under the Bhartiya Nyaya Sanhita (BNS), such as Section 115, which deals with voluntarily causing hurt, and Section 351, addressing criminal intimidation. “Male victims can also file civil suits against harassment or rely on constitutional safeguards like Article 21, which guarantees the Right to Life and Personal Liberty,” he said.
The lawyer acknowledged that some avenues exist for men falsely accused under gender-specific laws. “The misuse of laws, such as Sections 85 and 86 of the BNS, dealing with cruelty against women by husbands and their relatives, is a growing concern. Male victims can file complaints for defamation, or malicious prosecution, or seek relief through Section 528 of the BNSS to quash false FIRs. However, the reality remains stark—there is no dedicated domestic violence law for men in India, leaving them vulnerable and without a structured mechanism for justice or protection.”
Exploiting the System
Another lawyer, based in Baramulla, shared her experience of women misusing the legal system. “I receive calls from women offering me large sums of money to file domestic violence cases against their husbands,” the lawyer said. “They ask me to build strong arguments against them, just to make things difficult for their husbands. Some women seem solely intent on harassment and are willing to spend any amount to achieve that.”
Such cases underline the broader issue of legal exploitation, which often results in prolonged battles, financial strain, and immense emotional distress for the accused.
A Tragic Catalyst
The recent case of Atul Subhash, a 34-year-old software developer from Bengaluru, has brought this issue into sharp focus. On December 9, 2024, Subhash died by suicide, leaving behind a 24-page note and an 81-minute film detailing the alleged harassment he endured from his estranged wife, Nikita Singhania, and her family. He accused them of demanding large sums of money to settle their divorce case and falsely accusing him of dowry harassment.
In response, Singhania and her relatives were arrested on charges of abetment to suicide. Subhash’s death sparked a country-level conversation about the misuse of India’s anti-dowry laws, with men’s rights groups advocating for reforms to prevent such laws from being weaponised.
The sociological implications of the case have drawn significant attention. “When it comes to women, there are so many laws,” a sociologist observed. “But when men suffer, it rarely makes the news. Why did it take a death to highlight this issue? Countless men like Atul suffer in silence and whose stories are never told. Meanwhile, women’s cases often receive immediate attention and legal recourse.”

A Call for Reform
The disparity in India’s domestic violence laws has long been a contentious issue. While laws protecting women are undeniably essential, critics argue that the absence of similar protections for men leaves a significant gap in the legal system. Subhash’s case serves as a stark reminder of the urgent need for a balanced legal framework—one that safeguards all victims of abuse, regardless of gender.
Until such reforms are introduced, the silence surrounding male victims will continue to perpetuate cycles of injustice, leaving many without the support and recognition they deserve.
An Ordeal of Marriage
Three years ago, Arif married in a grand celebration organised by his parents. Initially, life seemed perfect. Arif, a Dubai-based manager, took his wife with him, believing he was living a dream.
“All was going well. I thought I was living a beautiful fairy tale. But I forgot that every fairy tale is not beautiful,” he recalled.
Soon, the relationship turned sour. “My wife became both physically and emotionally violent. She started giving me threats, saying she would file a domestic violence case if I did not meet her demands for a freer lifestyle,” Arif said.
The harassment extended to both families. “She would call my parents, abuse them, and accuse me of neglect and violence. Then she involved her family, making false allegations against me,” he added.
Unable to endure further, Arif flew home with his wife and filed for divorce.“I filed a case in the Family Court, but she started sending people to pressure me into withdrawing it,” he explained.
Reflecting on two years of torment, Arif admitted, “I felt mentally exhausted and cried often. It felt like a sin to have married her.” However, when divorce discussions began, his wife made efforts to reconcile. “She tried her best to mend things. I think I should give our marriage a chance,” he said.
His family also endured emotional strain but chose to support the reconciliation. “Breaking a marriage is not always necessary,” said Arif’s mother. “Marriage is constant work. Our son suffered deeply, but we now wish the best for him and his wife. May they live in a beautiful marriage.”
Arif remains cautiously hopeful. “We will try our best to stay in a blessed marriage. I will ensure that, even if we fight, neither of us suffers,” he said.
(Names in this story have been changed to protect the anonymity of the victims).