The marital contract
The idea that marriage confers a blanket consent has long embedded the Indian law. Section 375 of the IPC which is now Section 63 (exception 2) of the Bharatiya Nyaya Sanhita, says that if a wife is over a certain age, a husband cannot be charged with rape. The Jihotstar show 'Chiraiya', which stars Divya Dutta, goes against this idea. The story follows Kamlesh, a woman who at first follows traditional rules, and her sister-in-law Pooja, who is forced to have sex by her husband, are the main characters in the series. Chiraiya is a six-episode web series that talks about the taboo topic of marital rape in a way that everyone can understand. Their story makes visible what a married wife may feel but would not be able to name i.e. being forced to have sex by your husband is violence, not marital obedience. Feminist scholarship, particularly the work of Carole Pateman has argued that the 'marital contract' is often a fiction that conceals women's lack of real choice in marriage. In her work The Sexual Contract she argues that in the context of marriage traditional views treat a bride's consent as perpetual and complete- you can see this happening in real world when Pooja confronts Kamlesh about her husband's abuse, Kamlesh responds with “patni to ho,” implying that sexual access is an inherent obligation of wifehood.
Activists challenging the marital rape exception and narratives like Chiraiya consistently emphasise that consent within marriage cannot be presumed to be implied, permanent or irrevocable. MacKinnon writes that rape is a crime of gender inequality. The presumption that a wife has consented simply by virtue of marriage reflects patriarchal understanding of intimacy and ignores the fundamental aspect of rape which is about power and gender inequality and not a mere lapse in agreeing to sex In the beginning of the show, Pooja's experience is dismissed by her family as irrational where even the possibility of harm within marriage is denied. As the show progress, Kamlesh's own beliefs start to fall apart, showing how women themselves are often taught to believe these myths. These changes make the series force viewers to think critically about what marriage has come to mean and, more importantly, what it should no longer justify.
Indian law has treated a wife's consent as given at marriage. Even though the lower age of marriage was raised from 15 to 18 years in rape law but the exception – “exception when wife is under x years of age” – remains. Criminalising marital rape is a constitutional issue, violating Article 14 and Article 21, by nullifying the rights of wives arbitrarily distinguishes married women from others. It gives a wrong signal to the society that a married woman's body is her husbands to use thereby violating her right to privacy, health and liberty. Marital rape's immunity plainly disables a wife's autonomy by ignoring that sex by force is the ultimate invasion of bodily integrity and self-determination and doing so lawfully undercuts the Constitution itself. However, the understanding of marriage has evolved. It is no longer tenable to view marriage as the wife's total surrender of autonomy. Even if consent is present at the time of marriage, such consent cannot reasonably be stretched to cover all future sexual acts, particularly those that are coercive. Kamlesh's journey in the show illustrates the view of a loving wife where the idea of refusing sex is incomprehensible, but Pooja's suffering forces her to rethink. This turning point in the show reveals the value of the institution of marriage which should be based on mutual respect and not on one-sided duties.
The violence the law cannot see
Unlike the dry statutes in our country, chiraiya humanises the issue. In its early episodes, Pooja is repeatedly subjected to forced sex despite her clear resistance, making visible what the law continues to obscure. The family's unreasonable reaction and Kamlesh's inability to comprehend that the idea that a husband could rape his own wife shows how social pressure makes people ignore the crime, which leads to silence and shame that makes the injury worse. Chiraiya traces the layered nature of this harm, which is emotional, psychological, and physical. While not all women will have the same experiences, the series focuses on a group of experiences that are often ignored or not given enough attention.
Flavia Agnes, a prominent feminist lawyer critiques that this legal immunity given under section 63 of BNS effectively tells women they have no right to say no to their husbands once married. Instead, women must rely on domestic violence and cruelty laws. Agnes argues that the Protection of Women from Domestic Violence Act (2005) already covers “sexual violence” by a husband and section 498A IPC punishes 'cruelty' including sexual harassment. But one need to understand that these provisions are general cruelty remedies and not a punishment for 'rape'. Indian law recognizes domestic violence but draws the line at naming marital rape. Bringing a case under these provisions does not centre the violation of sexual autonomy instead it forces women into more complicated claims of cruelty. Even then, the burden remains heavy which requires the proof of abuse within a system already marked by reluctance where the police are often hesitant to register complaints due to concerns around alleged misuse.
Chiraiya illustrates how this gap leaves victims feeling almost invisible. As Professor Agnes puts it, focusing only on the penetrative aspect of abuse ignores the broader power violence which women face and even forces them to choose a different and tangled path sometimes for example filing a false dowry case as seen in the series itself, instead just to get justice.
Where can women turn when the law looks away?
The opposition side of criminalisation often bring up fears of misuse or threats to marriage. There is a very common perception that women will weaponize rape charges against husbands leading to dissolution of marriage. But should the possibility of misuse be enough to deny recognition of a fundamental right? These kinds of arguments often take the focus off the victims, which makes even the real cases seem suspicious and makes women less likely to come forward. Preventing violence within marriage in fact redefines it on more equal and dignified terms. Chiraiya does a good job of bringing attention to marital rape, but it does not do enough to help women who might find themselves in the same situation. What options does a woman realistically have when the law does not recognise marital rape as an offence?
The Protection of Women from Domestic Violence Act, 2005 lets women seek for protection orders, residence rights, and monetary relief. They can also file a complaint for cruelty under Section 86 the Bharatiya Nyaya Sanhita framework. Finally, they can get a divorce on grounds of cruelty under personal laws. Additionally, she may approach women's commissions, legal aid services, or support organisations for assistance and counselling. These alternatives are often fragmented and emotionally draining, forcing women to deal with a system that does not fully acknowledge their experience. By not foregrounding these pathways, Chiraiya at least leaves its viewers with recognition of harm, but without a roadmap for resistance or exit.
Lastly, even if the law continues to hesitate, narratives like Chiraiya ensure that this issue can no longer remain invisible.
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