Pune: The tragic suicide of 23-year-old Vaishnavi Shashank Hagawane has once again cast a harsh spotlight on the growing crisis of domestic violence in Pune. Recent data obtained under the Right to Information (RTI) Act by activist Vihar Dhurve reveals a staggering 8,623 cases of domestic abuse and cruelty by spouses and in-laws currently languishing in Pune’s overburdened court system.
Vaishnavi’s case involves her father-in-law, Rajendra Tukaram Hagawane (57), a former Mulshi taluka president affiliated with the Ajit Pawar-led faction of the NCP. He was arrested by Bavdhan police following a complaint from Vaishnavi’s father. Allegations suggest a prolonged period of abuse from April 2023 to May 2025, ultimately ending in her tragic suicide.
“This is just one of thousands,” said RTI activist Dhurve. “Courts are overwhelmed. Each judge handles over 500 cases—some even more than 1,000. Under such conditions, timely justice becomes virtually impossible.”
Though legislative tools like the Protection of Women from Domestic Violence Act, 2005, and the Bhartiya Nyaya Sanhita, 2023, exist, their enforcement remains ineffective. Protection Officers, crucial for swift intervention, are often reassigned to unrelated administrative duties.
Advocate Rajendra Anbhule, who has filed a Public Interest Litigation in the Bombay High Court, criticised the judiciary’s handling of such sensitive cases. “These matters are treated as routine disputes,” he said. “Frequent adjournments, underused mediation, and lack of urgency have rendered the law ineffective.”
A further complication lies in the fragmented legal process. Victims are often forced to approach multiple courts—criminal, civil, and family—for redressal of a single incident. “It’s a legal maze,” said Neelam Gorhe, Deputy Chairperson of the Maharashtra Legislative Council. “We urgently need unified women’s courts or more frequent use of Lok Adalats.”
The Pune District Legal Services Authority claims to have deployed trained female lawyers at police stations and offers both virtual and in-person assistance. “Our support network is expanding,” said Sonal Patil, a representative of the authority. However, with the sheer volume of cases, these efforts are struggling to make a meaningful impact.
Meanwhile, NCP spokesperson and advocate Rupali Thombre Patil defended the existing legal structure: “There’s a due process that must be followed. Family reconciliation is often the goal, which naturally takes time. Rushed justice is not always fair justice.”
But critics argue that such a stance only enables further abuse. “This mindset gives abusers room to manipulate the system,” said one women’s rights activist.
Questions are also being raised about the role of the Maharashtra State Women’s Commission. Attempts to reach Chairperson Rupali Chakankar went unanswered. Shiv Sena (UBT) leader Sushma Andhare criticised the silence, calling state schemes like Lek Ladki, Beti Bachao, and Beti Padhao more symbolic than effective. “Women are still dying,” she said. “Backlogs mean tampered evidence, disheartened witnesses, and justice slipping away.”
According to a senior judicial official, there’s currently only one courtroom in Pune specifically handling domestic violence cases—and it’s shared with others. “We have fast-track courts for rape and POCSO cases,” the official said, “but domestic violence still isn’t given that urgency.”
Activists and legal professionals are calling for dedicated women’s courts, more judicial appointments, and mandatory gender-sensitisation training for trial judges.
As Vaishnavi’s death continues to haunt Pune, her case serves as a grim reminder that systemic reform is not just overdue—it’s a matter of life and death.
