A double-edged narrative: how the Sonam-Raja murder and Deepika Padukone's casting row reveal media bias, caste patriarchy, and the urgent need to defend feminism against regressive backlash. Vinta Nanda writes…

The Sonam-Raja honeymoon murder case and Deepika Padukone’s casting controversy highlight India’s deeply entrenched caste, class, and gender biases. As media narratives weaponize isolated incidents to undermine feminism and women’s rights, core issues like caste-based marital coercion, unequal pay, and workplace sexism are dangerously sidelined. Vinta Nanda explores how patriarchal structures distort justice, suppress women’s agency, and manipulate public discourse. With a focus on caste discrimination, media bias, and gender equality in India, it calls for a critical re-examination of outdated traditions and a reaffirmation of feminist progress.  

The country has found itself captivated—and horrified—by a chilling crime. Raja Raghuvanshi, a newlywed husband from Madhya Pradesh, was found murdered on his honeymoon in Meghalaya. His wife, Sonam, is now the prime accused. Media reports allege that she conspired with her lover Raj Khushwaha and hired three contract killers to end her husband's life just days after their wedding.

The story has all the makings of a tabloid sensation: betrayal, romance, caste tensions, and a honeymoon turned fatal. But instead of leading to meaningful conversations about social structures or gender justice, the national discourse has veered into dangerous territory. Across media platforms and public debates, the incident is being used to argue that women are now as “ruthless” as men—and worse, that laws protecting women have gone too far.

This framing reveals less about the crime and more about society’s discomfort with women who don’t conform, whether by breaking laws or asserting professional autonomy. In both this case and the simultaneous controversy surrounding actor Deepika Padukone, a pattern emerges: patriarchy is quick to reassert itself the moment it feels challenged.  

When Individual Crime Becomes a Weapon Against Feminism

Let us be clear: If Sonam is guilty of orchestrating her husband’s murder, she must be held accountable under the law. But her gender is incidental to the crime. Legal systems are meant to assess evidence, not extrapolate identity-based guilt. Yet that’s precisely what some media outlets are doing—treating this one case as evidence of a larger narrative that women are misusing their rights and protections.  

This isn’t justice; it’s agenda-setting. And it echoes a long-standing patriarchal pattern of using isolated incidents involving women to attack broader social movements for gender equity. No one suggests that male-perpetrated violence—rampant and systemic—should delegitimize men’s place in society. Yet women are judged collectively every time one of them is accused.

The Media’s Convenient Silence on Caste and Class

What’s even more troubling is what is not being discussed: the caste and class dynamics at the centre of this story. According to reports, Sonam was allegedly in love with Raj Khushwaha, a man who worked in her father’s factory—a clear indication of a class divide. Further, Khushwaha belonged to a different caste than Sonam, which sources suggest was the reason she was not permitted to marry him.  

Instead, Sonam was married off—reportedly against her will—to a man from her own caste and community. If this is true, then the tragic event is not just a murder but a culmination of systemic oppression rooted in caste-based control and patriarchal coercion. Why has this aspect received almost no attention from national media?  

This silence is telling. Caste and class remain taboo topics, especially when intertwined with issues of gender. In a society still deeply hierarchical, the autonomy of a woman—especially in choosing a life partner outside her caste—threatens not just the family’s “honour” but the very foundation of caste supremacy. The result is often coercion disguised as tradition, and violence masked as propriety.   

The Hidden Cost of ‘Tradition’ in a Developing Society

Sonam’s case, tragic in every form, should be prompting deep national introspection: Why do families in 21st-century India still prioritize caste over consent? Why is a woman’s personal choice still subjugated to community expectations? Why is the punishment for defying caste boundaries still so severe—social ostracism at best, violence at worst?

We must recognize that casteism and classism are not relics of the past. They are living, breathing systems of control that disproportionately affect women. The right to love and marry across caste lines is not just a romantic ideal; it is a marker of modern, democratic progress. A society that claims to be developing must confront these systems, not sidestep them.

When women like Sonam are denied agency over their own lives and choices, it is a form of structural violence—one that often leads to psychological trauma, rebellion, and in extreme cases, tragedy. If media houses were doing their job, they would be using this case to interrogate these structures, not weaponize it against feminist progress.  

Deepika Padukone and the Right to Professional Equity

Another debate erupted in the entertainment industry recently. Actor Deepika Padukone was reportedly dropped from a major film directed by Sandeep Reddy Vanga after she requested equal pay and an eight-hour workday—reasonable demands for a new mother and a top-tier professional. Instead of being lauded for championing workplace equity, she was labelled "difficult."

This isn’t new. Women in the film industry—and across sectors—are routinely sidelined the moment they assert themselves. They are told to be grateful, not demanding. While male actors in their fifties are still cast as romantic leads opposite actresses half their age, women over forty are considered past their “prime.” Behind the scenes, male directors are celebrated for aging like “fine wine,” while women are discarded like “stale water.”  

These double standards are not cultural quirks—they are symptoms of systemic misogyny. And when someone like Deepika challenges them, the backlash is swift and punitive. Meanwhile, Sandeep Reddy Vanga, whose past films have been criticized for glorifying toxic masculinity, faces no such professional scrutiny.  

A Feminist Reckoning, Not a Feminist Retreat

What ties the Sonam case and the Deepika controversy together is not simply their gendered undertone, but the media’s treatment of both. Instead of using these moments to challenge oppressive traditions, mainstream narratives have rushed to question the validity of women’s rights movements. This reactionary stance seeks to portray feminism as overreach rather than redress.

This is a dangerous pivot. The gains of feminist and anti-caste movements in India have been hard-won. They were not designed to shield criminals or stifle fairness, but to correct centuries of imbalance, injustice, and invisibility. To let one crime—or one casting change—hijack that progress is to let patriarchal narratives win once again.

Justice for Raja Raghuvanshi must be pursued, as must fairness in workplace negotiations for Deepika Padukone. But let us not allow either case to erase the larger truth: that women, especially from marginalized castes and classes, are still fighting for the basic right to be seen, heard, and respected. Their fight is not over. It is only just beginning.