‘Galat hota dekh kar chup rehna bhi galat hai’: Reading between the lines of Chiraiya, between what’s said and unsaid

Chiraiya is more than its central theme — here’s decoding the silence, conditioning, and power dynamics that shape its unsettling narrative.

Beyond consent and marital rape, ‘Chiraiya’ holds up a mirror to uncomfortable truths. What lingers isn’t just what is said—but what is quietly absorbed, normalised, and left unquestioned. It doesn’t just tell a story; it exposes patterns we’ve learned to live with. While the internet is busy discussing consent and marital rape, the series quietly shifts the lens to something deeper: the silences we inherit, the behaviours we excuse, and the power we fail to recognise. It’s uncomfortable for everyone, because it feels familiar. Long after it ends, you’re left thinking—not about the obvious, but about the silences, the pauses, the moments we let pass.

Beyond consent and marital rape, ‘Chiraiya’ holds up a mirror to uncomfortable truths. (divyadutta25/Instagram)

There are several hidden messages in this series—it’s time we pause and reflect on them. Reiterating this here, in case you missed it. It has stirred something deep within me, and I don’t want even the slightest nuance to be overlooked.

In conversation with HT Lifestyle, Nupur Dhakephalkar, clinical psychologist, founder and chief clinical psychologist at Centre for Mental Health, Pune, explores the hidden layers of silence, power, and conditioning in the series.

Here are some uncomfortable truths that might stay with you long after the series ends:

The illusion of ‘good upbringing’

“Families ko aisa lagta hai ki vo apne bacche ko achi tarah se jante hai, lekin hamesha aisa hota nahi hai…” (Families think they know their child well, but that's not always the case)

Families often take pride in raising “good boys,” but many of them are simply unraised men. They think they have raised them right, but the truth is—they never really knew their sons. It is one of the biggest blind spots in parenting, and this pride of raising a perfect son replaces awareness.

“Galti sirf us ladke ki nahi hai jisne apradh kiya hai, galti us har insan ki hai jisne uski parwarish ki hai. Galti us maa ki bhi hai jisne kabhi use danta nahi, us baap ki bhi hai jisne sahi sikhaya nahi.” (The fault lies not only with the boy who committed the crime, but also with everyone who raised him. It's also the fault of the mother who never scolded him, and the father who didn't teach him the right things.)

The entire family, who unknowingly conditioned the boy and ignored his wrong deeds, are equally responsible for the crime.

Nupur Dhakephalkar said, “The series portrays families where harmful dynamics are normalised to the point that they are no longer recognised as abuse. This reflects what psychology describes as intergenerational transmission of trauma, but not through explicit storytelling, but through modelling and imitation, emotional climates, and belief systems. Children learn relational templates by observing caregivers. When control, silence, or coercion are embedded in marital dynamics, they become the default script for the next generation.”

Justice begins at home

“Har baar court aur law nyaye kare, jaruri nahi, kayi baar pariwaar ko bhi nyaye karna padta hai…” (It is not always the court or the law that delivers justice—sometimes, families do, and they should.)

In many situations, the first response to wrongdoing doesn’t come from a legal system, but from within the home. Because justice doesn’t begin in courtrooms—it begins in the values we practice at home, in the conversations we don’t avoid, and in the courage to call out wrong, even when it is our own.

“Perhaps the most important insight from ‘Chiraiya’ is that patriarchy is not sustained by men alone. It is a system of roles- men are socialised into entitlement and dominance, women are socialised into accommodation and preservation, and families act as enforcement units. As the show suggests, change cannot come only from outside; it must be disrupted within the family system itself," Nupur added.

The problem isn’t all men, it’s silent men

“Sirf aurat hi kyu lade, mardo ko bhi aurato ke liye ladna chahiye…” (Why should only women fight, men should also fight for women…)

It’s not just about women—men who see the wrong and still choose silence must also be held responsible for the injustice and harm faced by women. It’s a strong message for society that fighting against patriarchy is not solely a woman’s responsibility, but men who understand should also support.

We don't need men like the ones shown in ‘Chiraiya.’ All five men showcased in the series, starting from the father-in-law to husband, father to brother, and brother-in-law. All men are harmful to society. If we don't want men like Arun, we don't want men like them as well.

I am not a man-hater. But why do I always get to hear the same- “Not all men, but why always men.”

Silence enables, voice disrupts

“Aurat tamashe se darti hai, isliye nahi bolti”- it says it all. (The woman is afraid of the spectacle, so she doesn't speak up.)

In the name of family, tradition, and love, women have been conditioned and misled in deeply structured ways, and we have been happily being fooled for ages. Silence is how society controls; voice is how women reclaim. A woman’s voice is her strongest weapon. When she chooses to use it, it has the power to disrupt, question, and transform society—and that is exactly what many fear. Sometimes, change doesn’t begin with action, but with a voice that refuses to stay silent. A woman’s silence protects the wrong; her voice makes them think twice before crossing the line again.

Victims are too vulnerable

“Jiske saath hota hai, vo lad nahi pata. Uske liye dusro ko ladna padta hai…” (Victims are often too vulnerable to fight their own battles.)

Fear, trauma, and societal pressure can silence them. That’s why it’s important for others to stand up for them and defend their rights.

It’s not just men—women, too, must be held accountable for sustaining patriarchal mindsets. While men may have built the system, women often end up reinforcing it. From shaping the next generation’s beliefs to normalising certain behaviours, women sometimes unknowingly become carriers of the very mindset that limits them.

Nupur explained that even women within the family are shown reinforcing these norms: a phenomenon known as identification with the aggressor or internalised patriarchy, where aligning with power becomes a survival strategy.

“Patriarchal systems assign women the role of emotional regulators of the family. In ‘Chiraiya,’ this manifests as keeping peace at all costs, absorbing discomfort without protest, and protecting family reputation over personal wellbeing. These are not random expectations; they are socially reinforced scripts. Women are “raised to adjust, to endure, to keep the family together,” Nupur told HT Lifestyle.

“Ghar ki izzat” and misplaced accountability

“Badi mehnat se banayi hai ye ijjat, isko aise hi jane nahi denge…” (I have earned this respect with great hard work, we will not let it go just like that)

Almost every family has a man who supports the wrongdoing of the boys in the house, all in the name of protecting “ghar ki izzat.” This so-called honour is treated as something built with great effort—and somehow, its burden falls only on women. But what about the men who constantly fail their families and the very idea of masculinity?

A woman’s world, made small

“Aurato ka akhbaar aakhiri panne se shuru hota hai…” (Women's newspapers start from the last page)

This statement reflects how limited a woman’s world has been made to feel. Her life was never meant to begin from the last page, yet patriarchy has made her believe she is small—that her needs are unimportant, she is weak, and her voice doesn’t count.

Men are not special

“Ghar ke chote lakde jab apni maa, behen, ya bhabhi ko ladke ke liye puja karte dekhte hai to khud ko apne aap hi khas samjhne lagte hai…” (When the younger boys of the house see their mother, sister or sister-in-law praying for a boy, they automatically start considering themselves special)

Men are not special, and being born male does not make anyone superior. This may offend some, but it remains true. Real masculinity is not about controlling or suppressing women—it lies in respecting, supporting, and standing up for them.

Even a 10-year-old boy, when asked to step out to accompany a woman, begins to feel like a protector. He may not see himself as a superhero, but he often ends up seeing the woman as someone who is weak.

The limits of a daughter’s home

The scene where a father takes pills to compel his daughter to return to her in-laws, despite everything she has been through, reflects the deep helplessness of a girl’s family. Once married, bringing her back home often feels like an option they don’t have—no matter what she endures. We are in 2026, and this reality is deeply disturbing. Being from the boy’s family does not automatically grant you authority or control over a woman’s life.

Marriage is not ownership

“Sirf shadi ho jane se ek ladki aur ladke ka apne shareer par se adhikaar kahtam nahi ho jata…” (Just because a boy and a girl get married, they don't lose their rights over their bodies)

Sexual consent is not a property right that, once given, no longer needs to be asked for.

Consent must be sought every time, before any sexual act. Nupur said, “A critical theme in the show is the idea that marriage is seen as granting automatic rights over a woman’s body. This reflects a broader patriarchal distortion: Consent becomes assumed, not negotiated, intimacy becomes duty, not choice, and resistance becomes deviance.”

Women are not women’s enemy

We’ve been conditioned to believe that “aurat hi aurat ki dushman hoti hai.” Women are not each other’s enemies—if they stand together, they have the power to change the entire system. ‘Agar ek aurat hi aurat ki nahi sunegi, to kaun sunega…’ (If a woman don't support a woman, who else will).

Standing for what is right

“Sahi ke liye aur sahi tareeke se ladne wala aksar akela reh jata hai…”

Those who choose to fight for what is right, and in the right way, are often left alone—misunderstood, questioned, and sometimes even opposed. But that solitude doesn’t make them wrong; it only reveals how difficult it is to stand by truth when it isn’t convenient for others.

The bottom line

This series is unsettling, but not in the way expected, not for what it said, but for everything it didn’t. Let's ensure we don't forget this series like any other passing internet sensation. Let's make this a revolution. Talk more about this and let our society unlearn the concept and mindset we are conditioned with.

It is alarming that society continues to fall short, with films and series still reiterating the same message. ‘Pink’ addressed consent years ago, and now ‘Chiraiya’ echoes it again. This repetition raises an important question—why do these reminders remain necessary? Perhaps because the issues they highlight continue to persist in everyday reality.