In a country where young consenting couples are still killed in the name of “honour”, the law often finds itself confronting not merely crime, but deeply entrenched social attitudes. Official figures may appear modest, yet their implications are profound. According to National Crime Records Bureau data for 2022, at least 18 honour killings were reported across India in a single year. Each case represents more than an act of violence; it reflects a society that continues to police choice, intimacy and individual autonomy.
It is against this uneasy social backdrop that the Supreme Court’s recent observations in Gajula Thirupathi vs The Telangana State Level Police Recruitment Board and Others acquire significance far beyond the fate of a single police recruit. The Court held that a consensual physical relationship between two unmarried adults cannot, by itself, be treated as a stain on an individual’s character. A bench, comprising Justices Manoj Misra and Manmohan, stated unequivocally: “There is no law which prohibits two consenting adults from entering into a relationship.”
The ruling is not merely a legal clarification. It is a statement about the relationship between constitutional rights and social morality.
THE TELANGANA CASE: WHEN MORALITY MEETS THE LAW
At the centre of the dispute was a young man whose appointment to the Telangana police service was cancelled because of his involvement in a criminal case arising from a past intimate relationship. In effect, the authorities treated his participation in a consensual relationship as evidence of questionable character.
The Supreme Court rejected that reasoning. It observed that a consensual relationship between two unmarried adults cannot, by itself, justify an adverse inference about character. In doing so, the Court reinforced a distinction that has increasingly shaped modern Indian jurisprudence: the difference between constitutional morality and societal morality.
The bench further noted that where two adults have been involved in a relationship over a period of time, there exists a strong presumption of consent. The observation is significant because it shifts the legal lens away from suspicion and towards individual agency and autonomy.
CONSENT AS A CONSTITUTIONAL VALUE
The judgment underscores a principle that has steadily gained prominence in Indian constitutional law: consent is not merely a factual question, but a constitutional value.
Rooted in Article 21 of the Constitution, which guarantees the right to life and personal liberty, the concept of consent is inseparable from dignity, privacy and the freedom to make personal choices. Over the past decade, the Supreme Court has repeatedly expanded the scope of these protections.
In Justice KS Puttaswamy vs Union of India (2017), the Court recognised privacy as an intrinsic part of life and personal liberty, affirming that decisions relating to intimate relationships lie at the heart of individual privacy. A year later, in Shafin Jahan vs Asokan KM (2018), it declared that the right to marry a person of one’s choice is integral to Article 21.
Viewed through this constitutional framework, the Telangana dispute was never merely about employment. It was equally about dignity, autonomy and the right to be free from State-imposed moral judgments. By treating a consensual relationship as a disqualification, authorities risked importing subjective notions of morality into objective administrative decision-making.
THE GENDERED BURDEN OF “CHARACTER”
Although the petitioner in the present case was a man, the broader implications of the judgment are deeply gendered.
Historically, women have borne the disproportionate burden of moral scrutiny in matters of sexuality and relationships. Courts have long recognised the dangers of allowing stereotypes about sexual conduct to influence legal outcomes.
In State of Karnataka vs Krishnappa (2000), the Supreme Court acknowledged that sexual autonomy is closely tied to dignity and privacy. More recently, courts have repeatedly cautioned against using a woman’s sexual history to undermine her credibility or character.
For decades, the stereotype of the “morally compromised woman” has shaped both social attitudes and legal narratives. Consensual relationships that later deteriorate have often been reframed in ways that blur the distinction between consent and coercion—sometimes harming genuine victims and, at other times, resulting in injustice to those wrongly accused.
By affirming that consensual intimacy cannot be treated as a reflection of character, the Telangana judgment strikes at the roots of this deeply patriarchal assumption. It reinforces the principle that morality cannot be selectively imposed, particularly on the basis of gender.
PART OF A LARGER CONSTITUTIONAL JOURNEY
The ruling does not stand in isolation. Rather, it forms part of a broader constitutional trajectory in which the Supreme Court has steadily expanded the sphere of personal liberty.
In Lata Singh vs State of Uttar Pradesh (2006), the Court strongly condemned honour killings, describing them as “barbaric and shameful murders,” while affirming the right of consenting adults to marry or live together without interference.
In S Khushboo vs Kanniammal (2010), the Court held that premarital sex is not an offence and recognised live-in relationships as falling within the ambit of the right to life. The judgment marked one of the earliest judicial acknowledgments that private morality cannot be legislated into personal relationships.
The watershed moment came in Navtej Singh Johar vs Union of India (2018), which decriminalised consensual same-sex relationships. The Court memorably declared that “constitutional morality cannot be martyred at the altar of social morality”.
The same year, in Joseph Shine vs Union of India (2018), which struck down the adultery law, the Court emphasised that an individual’s autonomy in matters of sexuality is intrinsic to dignity.
Together, these judgments reveal a clear evolution in constitutional thinking—from enforcing social norms to protecting personal freedom. The Telangana ruling fits squarely within this progression. It reinforces the principle that the state cannot serve as a moral arbiter in matters involving consensual adult relationships.
By refusing to stigmatise premarital intimacy, the Court has reaffirmed that the Constitution protects choices, not conformity.
WHEN LAW MOVES FASTER THAN SOCIETY
Yet, the judgment also raises an uncomfortable question: has society kept pace with the law?
India’s legal landscape has often advanced more rapidly than social acceptance. Honour killings, familial coercion, moral policing and social ostracism continue to shape the lived experiences of countless young Indians. The law may recognise consent, but society frequently contests it—particularly when personal choices challenge entrenched hierarchies of caste, religion or gender.
This tension lies at the heart of contemporary India. While the Constitution guarantees freedom, social structures often seek to condition or limit it.
The Supreme Court’s observations in Gajula Thirupathi are, therefore, both a marker of progress and a mirror held up to society. The ruling not only resolves a service dispute, but also challenges a broader cultural instinct to judge, stigmatise and control consensual relationships.
The ultimate test, however, lies beyond judicial pronouncements. It lies in whether institutions internalise constitutional values, whether families respect individual autonomy, and whether society learns to distinguish between personal choice and perceived deviance.
Until consent is respected not only in law, but also in everyday life, such judgments will remain what they are today: significant milestones in India’s constitutional journey—necessary, transformative, yet unfinished.
—The writer is a New Delhi-based journalist, lawyer and trained mediator
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