Listen To Your Daughters: Why Twisha Sharma Case Is A Stark Warning To Girl Parents

Listen To Your Daughters: Why Twisha Sharma Case Is A Stark Warning To Girl Parents Written By, Last Updated: May 22, 2026, 12:41 IST Twisha Sharma and Palak Rajak had sent out distress messages to their families days before their deaths. Rapid Read Parents walking hand in hand with their daughter. (AI generated image) There has been a disturbing pattern emerging from across India over the past few weeks. Different cities. Different families. Different names. But the same horrifying story. From Twisha Sharma to Deepika to Palak Rajak, young women trapped in abusive marriages kept sending warning signals before their deaths. Some spoke about dowry harassment. Some spoke about emotional torture. Some feared physical violence. Some even hinted they may not survive. Yet somehow, in case after case, those cries for help did not translate into rescue. And that raises an uncomfortable question society still avoids asking honestly: when daughters repeatedly say they are unsafe, why are families still telling them to “adjust"? Because behind every dowry death headline lies another silent tragedy – a woman who probably believed her maternal home would protect her, but never truly felt she could return to it permanently. As daughters, most women are raised with the belief that no matter where life takes them after marriage, their parents’ home remains their safest place. The one place where they can speak without fear. The one place that will catch them when things fall apart. Twisha Sharma likely believed that too. In the weeks leading up to her death in May 2026, Twisha sent increasingly desperate messages to her family from her marital home in Bhopal. They were not vague emotional outbursts. They were direct distress calls. On May 7, Twisha messaged her mother saying, “Mera jeevan narak ho gaya hai" — my life has become hell. She begged her parents to come and take her away. She spoke about sustained mental torture and physical abuse allegedly inflicted by her husband, Samarth Singh. She told people close to her that she felt trapped. Her family later alleged that she was being pressured over property and financial assets worth nearly Rs 20 lakh. Earlier, in April, she had returned to Noida and reportedly warned her parents that her husband and mother-in-law had questioned her pregnancy and were allegedly forcing her to terminate it. Then came the final call. On the night of May 12, Twisha was on a frantic WhatsApp call with her mother when the line suddenly disconnected. Minutes later, she was found dead. Five days before her death, she had sent a clear red flag to her family. Five days. A plea like that should have been enough to bring a daughter home immediately. Why that did not happen is something only her family can answer. But the larger social reality behind such decisions is painfully familiar in India. Families often hope things will “settle down." They worry police complaints may “ruin" the marriage. They fear social stigma, gossip, judgment from relatives, or the label of a “failed marriage." Many daughters themselves are emotionally conditioned to endure suffering because they are repeatedly told marriage requires sacrifice and adjustment. But how much adjustment is too much adjustment? And why are women still being taught to preserve marriages at the cost of their own safety? The same painful pattern appeared in the case of Palak Rajak. Palak had reportedly confided in her mother, Seema, about the harassment she faced after marriage. According to her mother, Palak had complained not only about her in-laws but also about harassment by her brother-in-law. “When she came home, she used to tell us that her in-laws troubled her and that her brother-in-law harassed her," Seema said. Yet, like many Indian families, they chose patience over confrontation. “We thought taking police action would only worsen relations. We used to explain things to them. They would behave properly for a few days and then start troubling her again. They never really changed," she said. That statement captures the tragic cycle many women are trapped in. Abuse happens. Families intervene informally. The abusers temporarily behave better. Hope returns. The woman is sent back. Then the harassment begins again, often worse than before. Seema also alleged that despite giving substantial dowry, the demands never stopped. “We had already given them a car, Rs 2.5 lakh in cash, and 10 tolas of gold. They were demanding a Brezza car. They should not have done this. They should have sent our daughter back to our home instead. Why did they kill our daughter?" she said. Her grief is devastating. But it also forces another difficult question into the open. If Palak had already spoken about harassment inside that house, why was she sent back there at all? These are painful questions, but necessary ones. Because India in 2026 still struggles to move beyond the “log kya kahenge" mindset. And more importantly, log kyun kahenge? Why are people still