The alleged murder of a man by his fiancée in the widely discussed Siya Goyal case has reignited calls on social media for a Men’s Commission Bill. Within hours of the news breaking, hashtags, reels, and posts questioned whether Indian men are now “safe” and whether the country needs an institution exclusively dedicated to protecting men. Every victim deserves justice.
If a man is murdered by his partner, it is a crime that deserves a thorough investigation, prosecution, and accountability. Violence against men is real. False accusations exist. Domestic abuse against men exists. These experiences should never be dismissed simply because the victims are male. But there is another question worth asking.
Why does it often take one high-profile case for the conversation to suddenly shift away from the much larger and statistically documented epidemic of violence against women?
Across India, reports of rape, domestic violence, sexual assault, stalking, acid attacks, dowry deaths, and harassment continue to emerge every day. Many more incidents never enter official records because survivors fear stigma, retaliation, or simply do not trust the system enough to report what happened to them.
For millions of women, concerns about personal safety are not sparked by one sensational case. They are shaped by lived experience. They influence daily decisions about public transport, late-night travel, workplaces, clothing, education, and even marriage itself.
That does not make men’s fears invalid. It does, however, raise questions about proportionality. A society can acknowledge male victims without pretending that gender-based violence affects everyone in identical ways. Recognizing one injustice should not require minimizing another.
The discussion surrounding a Men’s Commission also deserves nuance. If the objective is to ensure that male victims of domestic abuse, harassment, or false accusations have better access to legal aid, counselling, and institutional support, that conversation is legitimate. Public policy should respond to genuine gaps in protection.
However, if the debate becomes a way to argue that men are now the “real victims” while ignoring the scale of violence faced by women, it risks distorting the evidence rather than responding to it.
Gender justice is not a competition. Supporting women does not require ignoring male victims. Supporting male victims does not require dismissing women. The challenge before India is not deciding which gender deserves empathy.
It is building institutions that ensure every victim is heard while remaining honest about where violence is most widespread and where systemic inequalities continue to exist.
One tragic case deserves justice. But it should not erase thousands of others that continue to unfold, often without headlines, every single year.
