It takes immense courage and an insane amount of time for many women to speak about sexual harassment or misconduct. It takes only minutes for the world to dissuade them and decide they should have stayed silent.
The recent death of Deepak U, a resident of Kozhikode in Kerala, following allegations of sexual misconduct, is indeed tragic. But what is even more disturbing is the way the incident has been repurposed in the social media echo chamber—not as a moment for reflection or accountability, but as a warning aimed squarely at women.
The case raises many unanswered questions. Yet, what followed quickly was not an attempt to seek truth or clarity, but a rush to weaponise the situation into a public trial of women who dared to stand up for themselves.
The narrative was quickly changed from facts to fear-mongering!
There is no denying that Shimjitha Musthafa, a 35-year-old social media content creator and former panchayat member, who recorded the video during a bus trip showing Deepak's elbow allegedly grazing her chest, should have approached the police with the video evidence. Equally, one can only wish that Deepak had sought the legal route instead of taking matters into his own hands. These realities place anyone commenting on the case in a moral and ethical dilemma, a real grey area. Who is to be blamed? Who is the victim? Is it Deepak or Shimjitha? How are we sure?
These are questions that demand due process, not instant trial by social media courts.
Acting on a complaint filed by the man’s family, Shimjitha was arrested and remanded to judicial custody for 14 days on charges of abetment to suicide. However, it appeared as though Deepak’s death became less about justice and more about giving a prejudiced section of society an excuse to vent its resentment, particularly towards women.
Social media has since been flooded with memes and reels expressing solidarity with men portrayed as ‘hapless’ victims who must now guard themselves from cameras.
Videos of men boarding public transport holding cardboard shields to protect themselves from accusations of sexual misconduct may seem humorous or even relatable to the thousands who liked and shared them. What often goes unnoticed, however, is the quiet but vengeful misogyny being served alongside the laughter—an attempt to ridicule feminism and silence women.
I recently watched a reel by a journalist from a so-called reputable media organisation in Kerala, and it left me deeply unsettled. The wordplay was sharp, the delivery confident, but where were the journalistic ethics? Had the idea of avoiding a public trial been forgotten? Media, traditionally considered the fourth pillar of democracy, can shape or shatter public perception. It would serve better for everyone if journalists focused on reporting facts rather than assuming the role of judge and jury, conducting public trials.
One cannot forget the visuals of men’s rights activists in Kerala welcoming a man accused of touching himself in public upon his release from judicial remand. That was a moment when the country’s most literate state appeared to sink into profound moral shame.
Stories from older generations of women carrying safety pins while travelling on buses and trains are not uncommon. Public harassment is not new; it has simply taken new forms. Yet this unfortunate death has triggered a sudden sense of emergency, particularly among cis-men who now claim they must protect themselves from the feminists or feminazis.
At this point, the loudest voices shouting for ‘men’s rights’ do not seem to care about the man who lost his life. Instead, the solidarity on display seems aimed at discrediting feminism and fostering hostility toward women. Across the world, women continue to experience abuse, assault, and violence, and are still expected to live through all of it.
Using one tragic case to spew hatred, manipulate public opinion, and undermine women who speak up against abuse is nothing more than a continuation of generational misogyny. The best course of action now is to allow the law to function, let policymakers do their jobs, and resist the urge to turn tragedy into a tool for silencing women.
(The opinions expressed in this article are those of the author and do not purport to reflect the opinions or views of THE WEEK)