Cinema, in its quest to describe real-world phenomena, often ends up glorifying the phenomena it may

seek to ‘objectively’ portray. The makers of Bollywood’s 2019 Kabir Singh, stated that they were
depicting a reality that they had witnessed around them: men slap women.

Their portrayal of this slap, however, is accompanied by a bizarre and continuous glorification of the
man who does the slapping. For the makers of Kabir Singh, this “occasional slap” was an expression of
love. Love knows no logic is what the viewers are required to believe. But surely, love must know
respect?

In contrast to this glorification, the 2020 film Thappad attempts to reverse this portrayal of abuse.

“Just a slap, par nahi mar sakta,” Thappad’s protagonist tells us.

This reverse in portrayal is important to evaluate. What is the picture of intimate partner abuse that
Thappad furthers? What are the specific legal issues that the film flags and how do the filmmakers
address these issues?

Power and abuse

The essence of Thappad is not ‘just’ the slap as its title suggests, but rather the structural entitlement
enjoyed predominantly by men in intimate relationships. The film is a journey, exploring that sense of
entitlement and questioning societal forces that allow it to seep into intimate relationships, to the
extent that it takes an act of physical abuse to recognise years of disrespect, insensitivity and neglect.

From the first few scenes of the film, it is clear that the shared life of the protagonist, Amrita, and her
husband, Vikram, only has room for his dreams, ambitions and career. The individual lives of the women
in the house are focused on ensuring that Vikram receives exactly what he needs. The structural
patriarchal division of labour is reproduced where the work done by the man is ‘labour’, whereas the
work done by women of the house is their ‘duty’.

What changes the status-quo is a single thappad. Inflicted in full view of their families and friends after
Vikram loses his temper over a promotion he did not get, it is this slap which awakens the Amrita from
the life she had settled into. In the aftermath of the incident, Vikram makes feeble attempts, rooted in
an immense sense of self-victimisation, to justify his behaviour to the Amrita.

What he does not do is sincerely apologise to her.

The protagonist is portrayed not just through her steadfast determination to leave the marriage, but
also through her vulnerabilities, hesitation and self-doubt.

In an important scene, she tells her lawyer that perhaps she “made herself the sort of woman who could
be slapped”.

This reminds viewers that women are conditioned to search for roots of abuse in their own conduct.
Articulations such as “did I ask for it”, “could I have stopped it” are unfortunately relatable to most
women.

The law is an important lens through which this film can be seen. The filmmakers have highlighted the
constructed ideal of happiness that women are required to abide by – a heterosexual marriage, children.
In this context, we must ask – what does the law do when this ideal breaks down?

Law

The film has parallel storylines that span the lives of women who come from different social locations. In
mapping their trajectories, the film calls attention to various forms of gender-based violence and the
legal response to these issues.

Issues of marital rape – which is still not a crime in India – and the restitution of conjugal rights are
flagged. The focus of the film, however, is on the act of a husband slapping his wife, an act of intimate
partner abuse, or domestic violence, as it is more often called.

The world of the law is rightly portrayed as fundamentally inadequate; it cannot help Amrita in the ways
she needs it to.
In the beginning, she is clearly told by her lawyer that if the matter is contested in court, her case would
not be strong enough to successfully withstand trial. A trial in a legal system where women’s testimonies
are routinely disregarded and they are often accused of filing ‘false cases’. These are important
observations that call attention to the way in which legal systems further oppress women who have
survived domestic abuse – a process referred to as ‘secondary victimisation’.

In India, a divorce can take place either through mutual consent by both parties or by one party proving
‘fault’ (under the legally provided fault grounds). The judiciary, which is over-burdened with an
overwhelming case-load, is unable to adjudicate contested divorce cases within a short – or even
reasonable – time frame. The process of trial itself is emotionally distressing as the most intimate details
of the litigants’ lives are laid bare, in the form of pleadings and evidence, for scrutiny by courts.

The film throws a light on the fact that “sirf ek thappad” is rarely enough in the eyes of the law to leave
a marriage. Given that witnesses to this incident could be easily influenced, as they were in the movie,
even proving that this singular incident took place is a task fraught with challenges. “You still want to
play fair” is what the Amrita’s lawyer asks her.

“Usne mujhe maara, pehli baar. Nahi mar sakta. Bas itni si baat hai aur meri petition bhi itni si hogi,” is
the Amrita’s response.

Amrita is clear: her husband is not ‘entitled’ to hit her. Not ‘even’ once.

Unfortunately, in the Indian legal system the contents of her petition would simply not be ‘enough’ to
grant relief to her, and women like her, in a contested divorce. Her lawyer, though truly empathetic of
her unflinching position, was acutely aware of this reality.

The film arguably furthers the idea that our fault grounds must be liberally interpreted. Women should
not have to wait to be abused more than once or be brutally assaulted, to have ‘enough’ material to
make a valid case for leaving the marriage.

Deciding cases of abuse within marriages is a challenging task for courts. Every case is different and must
be judged on its merits. But there must also be a recognition on parts of courts that they are dealing
with relationships seeped in a power imbalance.
Further, what legal institutions must recognise is that an act of physical abuse is rarely actually isolated.
It often follows from emotional abuse and denial. Due to patriarchal social conditioning, we are
reluctant to categorise certain actions as ‘real abuse’. Then it takes one act of what is traditionally
perceived as violence (such as a slap, push or a punch) to make a person realise that they have suffered
from other forms of abuse, which may be more subtle in actual visibility than physical abuse but not in
form.

There is an urgent need for courts to be sensitive to these forms of abuse instead of being fixated on
brutal, violent and prolonged physical violence as the archetype case of abuse. Abuse, within a
relationship, can be emotional, sexual, financial and also (but not necessarily) physical in its form. This
recognition cannot come from the bare text of law alone, it must also be reflected in a sensitised judicial
discourse.

While the film does not delve deep into the issue of maintenance, the filmmakers address it briefly.
Amrita is seen telling her lawyer that she does not want to ask for maintenance as a matter of principle.
The conversation with her lawyer raises questions about what we consider ‘contribution’ in a marriage
and how that is tied to the idea of maintenance.

Feminists have fought long and hard to ensure that courts see that women have a share in their
husband’s income, particularly when his income is sustained by the household productive labour
undertaken by her. While the protagonist in the film is from an upper-class background who is capable
of starting afresh independently, for scores of women who do not come from the upper class and caste
backgrounds, maintenance is a necessity to sustain a legal battle and start an independent life.

Thappad navigates deeply complex areas with a rare honesty. Law and justice. Abuse and respect. Rage
and love. Even in dealing with these nuances, the film is clear in its core idea: a relationship of care is
never abusive. If it becomes abusive, it can no longer retain its claim that it is a space of care.

It is true that expressions of care, passion and love may take various spontaneous forms. But ‘love’
without respect is no love at all.

Films like 'Thappad' reiterate what 'just' a slap can do to a partner in a marriage and it's time for the law
to change with the times.

As the story is not far from reality, it makes us wonder if it is time we review our matrimonial laws in
consonance with the society.
As matrimonial discords often lead to endless legal battles, it is crucial to understand what the law and
the guardians of the law -- the courts -- have to offer in such situations. Contested divorce in India can
be sought in the court only upon satisfaction of certain legally accepted ‘grounds’ enumerated under
law. Those grounds are exhaustive.

Presuming that an isolated event like a slap in a party can be considered to grant divorce, the nearest
ground it would satisfy would be ‘cruelty’. However, the term ‘cruelty’ has not been defined under the
Hindu Marriage Act, 1955 or Special Marriage Act, 1954. Therefore, conclusions are arrived based on the
interpretation placed by the judiciary in matrimonial cases.

Law

Can you file for divorce over 'just a slap' in India? A legal view on 'Thappad'

Films like 'Thappad' reiterate what 'just' a slap can do to a partner in a marriage and it's time for the law
to change with the times.

Taapsee Pannu after being slapped at a party in Thappad

Amidst hypermasculine potboilers, movies like Thappad (Slap), which recently released on Amazon
Prime Video, provoke thought.

In the Hindi film directed by Anubhav Sinha, a husband slaps his wife at a party, which makes her
seriously reconsider the marriage. While she files for divorce, her husband decides to contest it.

As the story is not far from reality, it makes us wonder if it is time we review our matrimonial laws in
consonance with the society.
How does the law see a ‘Thappad’?

As matrimonial discords often lead to endless legal battles, it is crucial to understand what the law and
the guardians of the law -- the courts -- have to offer in such situations. Contested divorce in India can
be sought in the court only upon satisfaction of certain legally accepted ‘grounds’ enumerated under
law. Those grounds are exhaustive.

Presuming that an isolated event like a slap in a party can be considered to grant divorce, the nearest
ground it would satisfy would be ‘cruelty’. However, the term ‘cruelty’ has not been defined under the
Hindu Marriage Act, 1955 or Special Marriage Act, 1954. Therefore, conclusions are arrived based on the
interpretation placed by the judiciary in matrimonial cases.

The question here is whether just a slap by the husband at a party constitutes ‘cruelty’ under the law?
The principle enunciated by the courts is that ‘married life should be reviewed as a whole and a few
isolated instances over a period of years will not amount to cruelty’. However, the courts have made it
clear that if such ill-conduct is persistent for a fairly lengthy period, it will be ‘cruelty’.

In certain cases, the courts, without mincing words, have held that no decree for divorce on one isolated
incident can be passed. The approach of the court was that a single act of cruelty will not be sufficient
reason for divorce and there must be a course of cruel conduct over a period of time. The word ‘cruelty’
as grounds for divorce has been used in a very literal, ordinary sense and is not specific. It is for this
reason that pleadings are exaggerated to great lengths in desperation to make out a case for divorce.

It is also essential to point out that generally, this principle has been employed in favour of women as
against cruelty alleged by husbands based on an isolated incident.

Needless to say, the courts do not condone a single act of violence which is grievous and inexcusable in
nature, and such an act would pass the test of cruelty. Thus, as far as the principle adopted by the courts
is concerned, a single instance such as what Amrita (Taapsee Pannu) in Thapppad endured, may not
necessarily lead to cruelty to dissolve a marriage.
Sacrosance of Marriage

The intent behind such an approach adopted by the courts is not to trivialise isolated events or render
them frivolous but solely to guard and to strengthen the marriage as it is considered a ‘sacramental
relationship’. One may even say that it is a sincere effort of both the Legislature as well as the Judiciary
to protect the ‘Sacrosanct Marriage’. “The vow to be together for better or worse cannot be so lightly
broken,” the court has observed in the past.

But should the court continue to uphold a marriage where one partner feels there’s no dignity in it?
When Amrita takes the firm stance of going ahead with a divorce over the slap and the subsequent
indifference with which she’s treated, she is confronted with questions like ‘Just a slap?’, ‘Would it not
sound unreasonable?’, ‘Give him another chance?’.

Many like her suffer from indignities rising from isolated incidents that have a long-lasting impact. Many
more suffer from violence and stigma. Leave alone an incident like a ‘slap in a party’, should the law
compel a wife to live in a marriage where she is not loved or which doesn’t make her happy? Are
incompatibility and lack of love not a good enough reason to exit a marriage, even if the feelings are not
mutual? Should an unhappy union continue in the name of the solemn preservation of a ‘Sacrosanct
Marriage’?

Detractors may argue, pointing out a greater chance of ‘abuse of the law’ and an ‘easy escape from
matrimonial accountability’. It is true that laws are often misused. However, it is the duty of the
Legislature to enact laws without giving room for abuse. Furthermore, the courts are also clothed with
the constitutional power and judicial responsibility to interpret the law in its right sense and to check
abuse of law.

What is a No-Fault Divorce?

In such circumstances as Amrita faces in Thappad, a No-Fault Divorce would be useful. A No-Fault
Divorce enables a spouse to obtain divorce on ‘irreconcilable differences’, ‘incompatibility’ or
‘irremediable collapse’. In other contested divorce proceedings, the spouse seeking a divorce is
burdened to establish ‘fault’ (Cruelty, Desertion, Adultery and so on) on the part of the other partner,
therefore making it a Fault Divorce.

Under Indian law, divorce can be sought mainly in three categories. The first category is based on the
traditional theory of matrimonial fault, the second based on the theory of frustration (for example,
when one spouse suffers insanity, leprosy or venereal disease, the other spouse can obtain divorce) and
the third is by mutual consent.

Apart from the third category, the other categories of litigations are endless and burdensome.
Prolonged legal battles consume a great deal of time, emotion and money. It is needless to mention the
clogging of litigations in the courts.

No-Fault Divorce in India

In the year 1978, the Law Commission of India in its 71st Report on The Hindu Marriage Act, 1955 has
recommended insertion of a new section 13C for divorce on the ground of ‘irretrievable breakdown of
marriage’. Subsequently, the courts have echoed a need for an amendment in divorce laws enabling No-
Fault Divorce.

On 30th March, 2009, the Law Commission in its 217th Report recommended the introduction of
“Irretrievable Breakdown of Marriage” as a ground for divorce. The Marriage Law (Amendment) Bill,
2010 was brought in by the UPA government and introduced Section 13C – ‘Divorce on ground of
irretrievable breakdown of marriage’. The Bill enabled both the husband and wife to seek divorce on
irretrievable breakdown of marriage but granted protection to the wife to oppose the petition on the
ground of hardship.

However, the Bill failed to be cleared by the lower house of the Parliament and lapsed with the
dissolution of the 15thLok Sabha in 2014.

Presently, Indian law does recognise No-Fault Divorce but only by the Supreme Court with a distinct
nomenclature called ‘irretrievable breakdown of marriage’. In cases where the Apex Court is convinced
beyond any doubt that there is actually no chance of the marriage surviving and it is broken beyond
repair, it may grant a ‘divorce due to an irretrievable breakdown’.

The Supreme Court alone exercises such a power under Article 142 of the Constitution but very sparingly
after years of legal battles, and only upon extraordinary circumstances. Therefore the real fruits of No-
Fault Divorce are hardly realised by spouses.
The introduction of No-Fault Divorce may have failed in India but it is not the end. The law must
transform itself to social sensitivities and awareness. Films like Thappad reiterate what just a slap can do
to a partner in a marriage and it is time for the law to acknowledge this. It is the public need and voice
that will compel the legislature to enact the law, and it is the courts that will protect the dignity of law
enacted.