Sharjah tragedy: Athulya said she was allegedly miserable in her abusive marriage — But couldn't escape

Dubai: In the aftermath of Athulya Sekar's tragic death in Sharjah earlier this week, the internet has been flooded with videos and interviews of her grieving parents, friends, and relatives.

Many speak of the signs — that she was being beaten, controlled, isolated. That her husband was possessive, suspicious, and volatile. And yet, despite seeing the red flags, most couldn’t do much. Some didn’t know how. Others were waiting for things to “settle.”

This isn’t to shame her loved ones. Grief is not a straight line, and guilt is not our place to impose. But we must take a hard, honest look at what Athulya’s short life is still trying to teach us.

In many Indian marriages — especially the kind arranged or facilitated by families — the couple barely knows each other. Living together before marriage is taboo in most communities. What’s worse, we rarely equip young people, especially women, with the emotional tools, economic independence, or self-preservation instincts needed to exit if things go wrong.

We focus so much on impressing the new in-laws, husband, or being dutiful and making the new union work that we forget the most fundamental right of all: safety.

If we’re going to lean into “tradition,” then it must be a two-way street.

If you’re going to insist a woman marries someone she hasn’t lived with, or has limited interaction with before marriage, then you — as a family, as a society — must also give her an exit plan. Not just a wedding. A way out, if things turn abusive.

Because it’s not always easy for a woman to “just leave.”

Who will take care of her if she returns? Who will raise her child with her? Can she afford to live on her own? And will she still be respected, or reduced to gossip as the family’s black sheep and “failed marriage” labels?

The uncomfortable truth is that many women are seen as economic liabilities. Even working women often don't earn enough to support themselves and their families. And when marriages break down, there’s rarely a support structure to catch them.

So what do we need to do?

We need to stop glorifying suffering as a mark of character. We need to teach both girls and boys to value their own lives, safety, and mental peace over societal approval. We must normalise asking for help, normalise leaving, normalize not being okay.

We must believe women — and men — when they say they are unhappy. Especially in a marriage. Especially when no one else sees what happens behind closed doors.

Because a young woman should not have to die to make us pay attention.

Teach your daughters that they can say no. Teach your sons that control is not love. And when someone says, “I’m scared,” or “I’m miserable,” or “I don’t feel safe,” don’t ask for proof. Ask how you can help.

That could be the difference between life and death.