They were brides, girlfriends, influencers, wives — now, they are accused killers.Sonam. Muskan. Shivani. Ravina. Radhika. A string of young women from small-town India who, until recently, were navigating their own quiet corners of life. Today, they are front-page headlines and viral hashtags, painted in dual strokes — as women and as alleged husband-killers. Their names have become shorthand for both fascination and fury.They’ve forced a reckoning, one uncomfortable and controversial: what does it mean when a woman kills?These cases, each gruesome in its own way, have lit up national media and exploded across social platforms — often not with empathy or nuance, but with mockery, memes, and a healthy dose of misogyny. “Sonam Bewafa Hai” memes made a grim comeback. Instagram reels made villains of wives and martyrs of husbands. But behind the noise is a deeper truth, experts say — a story of gender, power, suppression, and a society in denial.

Breaking the mold — with blood

Let’s start with Sonam Raghuvanshi — now a household name. The Indore woman allegedly plotted her husband Raja’s murder during their honeymoon in Meghalaya, in cahoots with her ex-boyfriend and three hired assassins. Raja’s body was discovered in a gorge.Before that came Muskan Rastogi of Meerut, who allegedly killed her husband with the help of her lover, hid the body in a cement-filled drum, and tried to disappear.Shivani from Bijnor faked a heart attack as her husband’s cause of death, only for police to find ligature marks. YouTuber Ravina, too, allegedly conspired to kill her husband over his disapproval of her online persona. And Radhika, barely weeks into marriage, reportedly killed her husband in Sangli.All of them — except Ravina, who is 32 — are women in their 20s.

Doubly deviant, doubly punished

“Women aren’t expected to do this. When they do, society doesn’t just see a criminal — it sees a woman who’s ‘failed’ at being a woman,” says Professor G S Bajpai, vice chancellor at National Law University, Delhi.He references British criminologist Frances Heidensohn’s “double deviance” theory: a woman criminal not only breaks the law, but breaks gender norms. And that makes society recoil harder. “She is doubly deviant and hence must be doubly punished,” Bajpai explains to PTI.Unlike men, who are often painted as impulsive or power-driven, women who kill are branded unnatural, even monstrous. They’re dissected under a harsher spotlight — their outfits, lovers, social media habits, even smiles are scrutinised.

Not just the act — but the reaction

India recorded over 4.45 lakh crimes against women in 2022, according to the National Crime Records Bureau. But crimes by women? There’s no standalone category, mainly because they’re statistically rare.

Yet rare doesn’t mean irrelevant.

“Crimes committed by women make a disproportionate impact precisely because they upset our cultural expectations,” says Deepti Puranik, a criminal psychologist. “We’ve taught women to suppress, sacrifice, and stay silent. But pressure creates cracks. Sometimes, it erupts.”She believes early marriage, emotional immaturity, lack of agency, and forced relationships can all brew a psychological storm. Activist Yogita Bhayana agrees: “It became easier for Sonam to plan a murder than to admit she loved someone else. That says a lot more about our society than about her alone.”

Are these crimes of power — or powerlessness?

Here lies the paradox: are these women demonstrating a twisted form of empowerment — or are these acts born of deep disempowerment?For Bajpai, the answer is layered. “Men often kill for power. Women’s motivations are frequently rooted in victimisation, manipulation, or emotional trauma. When a caregiver turns killer, the world doesn’t know how to compute it.”He adds, “Let’s not forget — intimate partner violence largely moves in the opposite direction. Husbands killing wives is far more common. But those cases don’t dominate headlines in the same way.”Data backs him. Globally and in India, over half of all female homicides are committed by current or former partners.

Criminal, yes — but still a woman

The portrayal of these accused women has followed a familiar pattern: the “wife with a lover”, the “influencer who went too far”, the “manipulative seductress”. It’s not just lazy — it’s dangerous.Kulpreet Yadav, co-author of Queens of Crime, points out that policing, criminology, and media coverage have always been male-focused. “We don’t truly understand how women with criminal intent think. And that gap leads to oversimplified narratives.”

So, should justice be gender-neutral?

Bajpai disagrees. “A blind, one-size-fits-all approach will fail. Context matters. Gender, power dynamics, emotional and social triggers — all of it must be weighed to arrive at fair justice.”

The women behind the headlines

Beneath the lurid details, under the trending hashtags, there are still human stories — shaped by broken relationships, desperation, suppressed rage, or maybe something darker. No one is defending murder. But understanding it? That’s a societal responsibility.These women didn’t just defy the law. They defied expectations. And that’s what makes their crimes not just shocking — but revelatory.