n a recent evening in Kolkata, a city often hailed as the cultural capital of India, a young doctor was brutally raped and murdered. The details of the crime are harrowing, the loss indescribable and the outrage palpable. Yet, as the collective grief spills into the streets, there is a gnawing sense of déjà vu. How many times have we found ourselves here, staring into the abyss of such horror, grappling with the same questions and making the same demands? From the heart-wrenching Nirbhaya case in Delhi to the recent horrors in Hyderabad, Kolkata and Badlapur, India continues to be haunted by a seemingly endless cycle of sexual violence.

These crimes, as heinous as they are, are not isolated incidents. They are a part of a disturbing pattern where each episode of brutality shocks the nation, leading to public outrage, candlelight vigils and calls for justice. Yet, despite the public outcry, changes in law and promises of reform, these atrocities continue unabated. The perpetrators apparently have a sense of impunity.

The Nirbhaya case in 2012 was a watershed moment. The sheer brutality of the crime forced India to confront its deep-seated issues with gender violence. The outrage was unprecedented, with thousands taking to the streets, demanding justice and stricter laws. The Justice Verma Commission was constituted and led to significant amendments to India’s rape laws, including harsher punishments and broader definitions of sexual assault, sadly with little implementation. As years have passed, it has become painfully clear that legislative changes alone are not enough.

In 2019, the gang rape and murder of a young veterinarian in Hyderabad rekindled the nation’s anger. The police, under immense public pressure, shot dead the four suspects in a controversial move that was widely celebrated. The incident highlighted a troubling reality: in the absence of faith in the legal system, extrajudicial killings were being lauded as a form of justice. Completely inexcusable, this was not just a reflection of the public’s desperation but also an indictment of the state of the Indian judiciary, where justice is often delayed, if not outright denied.

The Kolkata case has once again brought these issues to the fore. The Supreme Court’s sharp criticism of the West Bengal government for its handling of the investigation is a reminder of the systemic failures that continue to plague India. The police, the judiciary and the political establishment have all come under scrutiny; yet the same patterns of inaction and inefficiency persist.

Each of these tragedies, instead of uniting the nation in a collective demand for change, often descends into a political slugfest. The ruling parties and opposition use these incidents as ammunition in their ongoing battles, selectively invoking cases to attack their rivals while ignoring similar incidents in their own states. The focus shifts from the victims and the need for systemic reforms to political point-scoring.

This selective outrage was evident in the recent Badlapur incident in Maharashtra, where two girls were brutally raped. The police’s inaction sparked protests, but the political response was predictably divided. This cyclical blame game not only distracts from the need for genuine reform but also trivialises the pain and suffering of the victims and their families.

Amidst this cacophony, there is a growing realisation, particularly among women’s groups, that the fight against sexual violence in India needs to go beyond the immediate demands for justice in individual cases. There is a pressing need to challenge the deeply entrenched patriarchy that pervades every aspect of Indian society. This includes not only sensitising and educating men but also ensuring that the legal process is more efficient and effective in delivering justice.

The conviction rates for sex crimes in India remain abysmally low; the legal process is often long, arduous and traumatising for the victims. Despite the reforms introduced after the Nirbhaya case, there has been little progress in ensuring swift and fair trials. The police, often the first point of contact for victims, are frequently ill-equipped, untrained and sometimes complicit in perpetuating the culture of impunity.

This is not just an issue that affects the urban elite or the professional classes. In rural India, where caste dynamics add another layer of complexity to the problem, sexual violence is often rampant and under-reported. The 2018 case of the rape and murder of a Dalit girl in Unnao, Uttar Pradesh, is a chilling reminder of how caste and power can be wielded to silence victims and shield perpetrators. The state’s initial response was to downplay the incident. It was only after sustained public pressure that the case was taken seriously.

India’s history of sexual violence is long and complex. The women’s movement in India, which gained significant momentum in the 1980s, was galvanised by the rape of a tribal girl by policemen in 1972 in Maharashtra. The Mathura rape case, as it came to be known, led to widespread protests and eventually resulted in the first major changes to India’s rape laws. However, as we have seen in the decades since, legal reforms alone have not been enough to stem the tide of sexual violence.

Successive laws have failed to address the larger systemic issues that allow such crimes to persist. The police force remains largely unaccountable, the judiciary is overburdened and inefficient and societal attitudes towards women remain regressive. Each of these institutions needs to be reformed and held accountable if we are to see any meaningful change.

The rape and murder of the Kolkata doctor, like the countless other cases that have preceded it, should not be viewed in isolation. It is part of a larger, more insidious problem that requires a multi-faceted response. This is not just an issue for the medical community or for the urban elite; it is a national crisis that affects every corner of India, from the bustling metropolises to the most remote villages.

The time for mere outrage has passed. What is needed now is sustained action on multiple fronts: legal, social and political. The laws need to be enforced more effectively, the police and judiciary must be reformed and society as a whole must confront and challenge the deep-seated patriarchy that allows such violence to continue much as they all sound hollow.

Only then can we hope to break this cycle of horror and ensure that the streets of Kolkata, Delhi, Badlapur or Unnao and every other city and village in India are safe for all. The voices of the victims must be heard, their pain acknowledged and their calls for justice answered—not just with words, but with real, lasting change.

The writer has been in the development sector for more than a decade. He currently works with an international non-governmental organisation based in Delhi. He may be reached at avinashcold@gmail.com