In a chilling reminder of the price women continue to pay for asserting their rights, a woman lawyer in Maharashtra’s Beed district was brutally assaulted—dragged to a field, surrounded by men, and thrashed with sticks and pipes—for the “crime” of filing a noise pollution complaint. The incident, which unfolded in Sangaon village of Ambajogai tehsil, has triggered state-wide outrage, yet the response from law enforcement and government authorities remains disturbingly muted.
Thirty-six-year-old Dnyaneshwari Anjan, a practising advocate at the Ambajogai Sessions Court, had reportedly approached the police with a complaint about loudspeakers blaring from a nearby temple, as well as the constant disturbance from three flour mills installed near her home. Villagers, including the sarpanch (village head) however claim that she was a persistent (and often exaggerated complaint), sometimes even filing false complaints! Her claim that the persistent noise triggered migraines and caused her physical distress brought her violent retribution. Instead of any attempts at dialogue with her, detractors resorted to what, increasingly is seen, vigilante violence.
On the morning of April 19, 2025, Anjan was attacked by her village sarpanch and at least nine of his supporters. According to her account, they dragged her to a farm and formed a circle around her, beating her with wooden sticks and plastic pipes—including on her head—until she nearly lost consciousness. The photos of her severely bruised and battered back, which she later shared publicly, went viral on social media, igniting an outcry among civil society, and opposition leaders.
An attack orchestrated by power and patriarchy
This was not a spontaneous act of rage—it was a deliberate, orchestrated punishment for speaking up. Anjan revealed that prior to the attack, the sarpanch had visited her house and told her parents to “reprimand” her, as though her assertion of rights was a form of insubordination. An FIR was registered a full day after the assault, under the Bharatiya Nyaya Sanhita (BNS), including sections for rioting (Section 191(2)), assault to outrage modesty (Section 74), unlawful assembly (Section 189), criminal intimidation (Section 351(2)), and voluntarily causing grievous hurt by dangerous means (Section 118(2)). And yet, as of the last update, none of the accused had been arrested. The police at Yusuf Wadgaon station claimed that search teams had been formed, but the perpetrators remain at large—shielded, perhaps, by political proximity or the comfort of knowing that consequences are rarely swift for those who harm women.
Political firestorm, but no real action
Opposition leaders were quick to condemn the incident. Maharashtra Congress chief Harshvardhan Sapkal declared it a “proof” of the BJP-led government’s failure to ensure women’s safety, stating, “If a woman lawyer is not safe, what about ordinary citizens?” He added that the lawyer was taken to a farm and mercilessly beaten till she fell unconscious, demanding the arrest of the accused and accountability from Devendra Fadnavis, who also holds the home portfolio.
Amol Kolhe, NCP (Sharad Pawar faction) MP, called the incident a “blot on a progressive state like Maharashtra”, invoking the legacy of icons like Jijabai, Ahilyabai Holkar, and Savitribai Phule, and pointing to the collapsed law and order under the BJP-Shiv Sena-NCP alliance. As per Hindustan Times, he added, “Instead of working for the people, alliance leaders are busy fighting among themselves for power.”
Even as the outrage spread online, with photos of Anjan’s injuries making the rounds, the BJP led Maharashtra state government’s silence has been deafening. As public confidence in the state’s protection mechanisms erodes, what is left is the image of a woman lawyer—bruised, nearly broken—punished for doing what the law allows: filing a complaint.
A female advocate was brutally beaten by Sarpanch and his accomplice at Beed District of Maharashtra. Beed again news for wrong reasons#Beed #beednews #Maharashtra pic.twitter.com/QftUfGeCbR
— Tikam Shekhawat (@TikamShekhawat) April 18, 2025
From Beed to Delhi: A wider crisis of safety for women in law
What makes the Beed incident even more disturbing is that it is not isolated. Just days earlier, in Delhi, a woman Judicial Magistrate was subjected to a shocking episode of intimidation and abuse—this time within the confines of her own courtroom.
After convicting an accused in a cheque bounce case under Section 138 of the Negotiable Instruments Act, Judicial Magistrate Shivangi Mangla recorded in her official court order that the accused and his lawyer hurled abuses, made death threats, and attempted to hurl an object at her. The convict told her, in open court, “Tu hai kya cheez… tu bahar mil, dekhte hain kaise zinda ghar jaati hai”—a direct threat to her life.
The lawyer, Atul Kumar, joined his client in pressuring the magistrate to resign and reverse her judgment. Judge Mangla noted that the harassment continued beyond the courtroom, including psychological pressure to quit her post. In her courageous response, she announced her intent to approach the National Commission for Women, and also issued a show cause notice to the lawyer, asking why criminal contempt proceedings should not be initiated against him.
Here was a woman judge, upholding the law of the land, being told she might not “make it home alive” for doing her job.
A systemic pattern of violence and intimidation
What connects Dnyaneshwari Anjan in Beed and Shivangi Mangla in Delhi is not just their profession—it’s the price they paid for exercising their legal rights and authority. In one case, a complaint. In another, a conviction. In both cases, the state’s promise of safety and institutional protection crumbled in the face of patriarchal rage and unchecked power.
It is not enough to call these “rare” or “shocking.” They are part of a wider pattern of systemic violence against women—especially those who step outside domestic spaces and challenge the authority of men in politics, religion, and even the courtroom.
What is at stake is the integrity of the legal system itself, the right to justice, and the belief that the rule of law can protect us.
Conclusion: When the protectors are left unprotected
The brutal assault on Dnyaneshwari Anjan and the threats against Judge Shivangi Mangla should not be seen as two separate news items—they are symptoms of the same disease. A society where women in legal professions are met with violence, abuse, and threats, simply for doing what the law entitles them to do, is a society teetering on the edge of lawlessness.
Where is the urgency in the state’s response? Where is the accountability from those in power? Notably, both the states where these incidents took place are being governed by the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) government. When perpetrators feel empowered enough to attack lawyers and threaten magistrates, they are signalling something far more dangerous—that they believe the law is on their side, or at least will look the other way.
Related:
When Courts Fail Survivors: How patriarchy shapes justice in sexual offence against women cases
Surviving Communal Wrath: Women who have defied the silence, demanded accountability from the state