On June 29, she was found unconscious inside a parked car in Avinashi, having consumed pesticide. She was rushed to a government hospital but declared dead on arrival. Before she took the extreme step, she had sent seven voice messages to her father, in which she described the abuse she had faced at the hands of her husband and in-laws, who had allegedly begun harassing her over the remaining dowry that was yet to be delivered.
Her husband Kavin Kumar, along with his mother and other family members, was arrested shortly after her death. They now face charges including dowry harassment and abetment of suicide. Speaking to the police, Ridhanya’s father admitted, “She came home just two weeks into the marriage. I told her to adjust. I didn’t know it would cost her life.” His words reflect a tragic, all-too-familiar sentiment: a father hoping for peace in his daughter’s marriage, unwilling or unable to foresee the danger beneath the surface.
Though illegal for over six decades, dowry continues to be an entrenched part of Indian weddings, transcending religion, caste, and class. According to the National Crime Records Bureau, 6,450 dowry-related deaths were reported across India in 2022. Tamil Nadu recorded 29 such deaths and over 220 cases filed under the Dowry Prohibition Act that year. But experts believe these numbers only represent a fraction of the reality, as many cases go unreported, buried under silence, stigma, and societal pressure.
In modern times, dowry often wears the mask of “gifts” or “support” for the newlyweds. Lavish gold jewellery, luxury vehicles, expensive household appliances—all are exchanged in full view of wedding guests and even captured proudly in social media reels. The word “dowry” may no longer be spoken aloud, but its presence is unmistakable. This reframing allows families to bypass the Dowry Prohibition Act, which clearly defines dowry as any property or valuable security given or agreed to be given directly or indirectly at or before a marriage.
The problem isn’t just legal; it’s deeply cultural. At wedding halls, guests clap while trays of gold are displayed, and gifts are stacked like trophies. Few question the motivations or the transactions taking place. This public endorsement of wealth as a measure of worth places enormous pressure on families of brides, especially when such exchanges are expected—and later used as leverage. The line between celebration and coercion is blurred.
Ridhanya’s case is not an isolated tragedy. Just days after her death, a similar incident was reported in Tiruvallur district. A young woman, just four days into her marriage, allegedly died by suicide after facing harassment from her in-laws. The complaint? Her family had given four sovereigns of gold instead of five, as initially agreed. In other recent cases—Kanagavalli from Ariyalur, Sindhuja from Madurai, Nageswary from Salem—women have died under suspicious circumstances shortly after marriage, with dowry demands emerging as a common thread.
The legal framework to address dowry exists but is riddled with challenges. Proving dowry harassment in court requires evidence—messages, audio recordings, or witnesses. Without such proof, many cases collapse. In addition, many families are reluctant to file cases, fearing social ostracism or further harm to their daughters. Often, women are told to “adjust” or “give it time,” as Ridhanya herself was advised.
Lawyers and women’s rights activists argue that the issue can’t be resolved by law alone. What’s needed is a cultural shift—one that makes dowry socially unacceptable, not just legally punishable. But that shift remains elusive. Today, weddings are increasingly extravagant, and the gold-to-love ratio seems to be climbing steadily. The applause is louder, the silence deeper.
At the heart of this tragedy lies a question we rarely ask: what are we really celebrating at weddings? When families gather to trade gold and cars under the banner of tradition, are they honoring love—or brokering a deal? The spectacle may be masked in rituals and framed in festive photographs, but its consequences can be deadly.
Ridhanya’s voice, captured in those last messages to her father, now joins a chorus of women whose lives were cut short by greed disguised as custom. Each time such a case makes headlines, the nation mourns—but how many pause to reflect on their own complicity? How many weddings will go on where trays of gold are exchanged while everyone looks away?
Until we start questioning what we’re applauding, this will not be the last such death.
If you or someone you know is facing domestic abuse or suicidal thoughts, help is available.
Women’s Helpline: 181
Suicide Prevention Helpline: 9152987821
Dowry is a punishable offense under the Dowry Prohibition Act, 1961.
