The Madhya Pradesh High Court’s Indore bench has drawn a stark line between persuasion and predation. A practicing advocate—someone meant to guide and protect people lost in the machinery of the law—has been denied anticipatory bail after being accused of luring a woman into a physical relationship on the false promise of marriage, all while hiding the fact that he was already a husband and father. Justice Gajendra Singh, hearing the case, refused to give the accused the protective umbrella that would have kept him safe from arrest. The application was filed under Section 482 of the Bharatiya Nagarik Suraksha Sanhita, 2023, the equivalent of what was earlier known as Section 438 of the Code of Criminal Procedure. The case arises from an FIR registered at Police Station Najhiri, Ujjain, under Section 69 of the newly enacted Bharatiya Nyaya Sanhita, 2023—a provision that specifically criminalises sexual intercourse obtained by deceitful means, including a false promise of marriage. In the judgment, the accused has been referred to simply as “S.” The refusal to grant anticipatory bail is not a judgment of guilt, but it does say something powerful about the gravity of the accusations and the very thin safety line between a personal betrayal and a criminal exploitation.
What makes the case so unsettling is how it began. The woman did not meet the advocate at a party or through friends; she came to him for legal help. She was a woman seeking counsel from an officer of the court, someone whose everyday duty is to stand beside people when they are missing. It was inside this space of trust that the accused allegedly proposed marriage, telling her that he liked her and wanted to build a future with her. He also told her that he was single, a statement that the prosecution says was a calculated lie. The woman felt uncertain at first. Court records say she initially refused the proposal. But she later agreed, “considering her future,” a phrase that reveals how much women in our society are expected to measure every life decision against the promise of stable. The accused took her to a hotel on Dewas Road on September 7, 2025. The room was booked in his name. There, according to the case, he insisted that she physically sustain him. When she resisted, he returned to the same safe word that had brought her there: marriage. That assurance softened her resistance. Physical relations were later established and repeated on several occasions. Every time she pushed a marriage for a future, he invented an excuse: his mother’s health was poor; he asked for more time. The stalling continued until she refused to be put off any longer. It was only then—right before the FIR—that he dropped his mask and refused to marry her at all. The final blow came when she discovered the truth about his previous life: he was already married and had a one-year-old child.
The accused tried, as everyone does, to fight the narrative. His lawyer, Advocate Manish Yadav, argued that his client was the victim of an afterthought, not a calculated predator. He pointed out that in an earlier complaint filed in 2024, the woman had not spoken of any physical relationship with his client. In that earlier version, according to the defence, nothing about the relationship appeared. The defence also highlighted proceedings before the Sub-Divisional Magistrate, Ujjain, dated June 7, 2026, arguing that the resurfacing of these allegations should be viewed with suspicion—a late, exaggerated addition to a simpler complaint. They told the court that the accused was a permanent resident of Ujjain, not someone likely to run away. They reminded the court that trials in India do not finish quickly, and a lasting legal battle would be unbearable if the man was held guilty during the investigation and period of trial without proof. On paper, these are standard arguments, and the court did not reject them. But the court also did not allow them to become magic. The conducting investigation, the substance of the woman’s story, and the unequal positions and correspondence were much more potent.
What helped the woman’s case even more was the presentation from her side. Advocate Sanjay Kumar Chouhan, appearing for the victim, reminded the court that a disappointment in love cannot be a reason to erase unethical conduct. He argued that the failure of the relationship after a false promise is exactly the kind of case Section 69 was meant to provide. He revealed details of a separate happenings, written confirmed at Police Stationry Kharakuan, Ujjain, alleging that the advocate had physically assaulted his client on the day, tried to delete photographs from her phone that proved their relationship, and extended threats to her. If true, these efforts show behaviour that is much more threatening than a man merely breaking off an engagement. The Government Advocate, Hemant Sharma, representing the State, pushed resistance as well, arguing that anticipatory bail not be given to a person who misused his professional standing and abused the confidence of a victim approaching him for legal consultation. The counsel submitted that it was not even a dispute that the accused was a married man when he was sitting in the consultation room, smiling across the same table, presenting himself as an eligible bachelor.
Perhaps the most decisive part of the judgement was the material collected during the investigation. The police did not rely on just the woman’s word. The manager of the hotel on Dewas Road had a statement confirming that the accused and the woman had visited his hotel on four separate occasions between September and December 2025, not just one. The same hotel room had been booked in the name of the accused on these special occasions. The woman’s parents and friends also had statements, revealing that she had told them about the marriage proposal, in the way a woman often shares the hope of a small village. These witnesses gave her story a witness base: this was not a private fantasy or a sudden rejection; she had shared her hopes with the people closest to her. For a judge deciding anticipatory bail, this kind of detail matters. It moves a case from “word against word” to an account supported by place, time, and unnecessary witnesses. Combined with the earlier complaints about the alleged assault and deleted photographs, the overall evidence painted a portrait of a man who had engaged in a pattern of application, not just impulse.
In law, anticipatory bail is not a frontier to the person. The Supreme Court has said in Nikita Jagga Shetty v. Maharashtra that it is an “extraordinary power” which cannot, by any stretch of imagination, be said to be the rule. It is a weapon of discretion, given only when the applicant can show a serious case in which arrest will disrupt, humiliate, or expose an innocent person to persecution. Here the court thought the opposite: the accused, with his power and knowledge, had misused the very system that gave him status. The judge observed that a person’s position must provide a helping hand, not be a target of a woman’s vulnerability. The court also considered the effect on the victim and the progress of the case. If the accused remains free and legalities beside them, he could scent witnesses, tamper with evidence, or create fear. This did not mean the judge violated the presumption of innocence, but it did mean the extraordinary protection at the pre-arrest stage could not be granted. The judge dismissed the plea and the accused was left exposed to arrest. The law has to race in an ordinary way. The woman who comes through the door is a case is not asking for many, just for justice. The refusal to grant anticipatory bail is a statement that law can trust, and when that trust is beaten, the law must be strong enough.