R.I.P. Young Woman Dies at the Hands of Her… Full Story👇👇👇
Her name was Poojashree.
She was 28. A bank cashier. A mother. A daughter. A woman who tried, again and again, to make her marriage work. And on the morning of September 1st, she was found hanging in her home in Sidedehalli, Bengaluru.
The official report says suicide.
Her family says otherwise.
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They say she was tortured. That her husband, Nandeesh, had an affair. That he demanded dowry long after the wedding. That he took her salary, her jewelry, her peace. That he broke promises made in police stations and family meetings. That he broke her.
They say he took her from their house at 7:15 a.m. and called an hour later to say she was gone.
They say she didn’t choose this ending.
And they’re not alone.
Just days before, another woman—Shilpa, 27, a tech professional—was found dead in her Bengaluru home. Her husband was arrested. Her family had paid ₹40 lakh, 160 grams of gold, and still, the harassment continued. She was pregnant.
These stories aren’t isolated.
They’re a pattern.
A warning.
A scream.
🧵 The Threads of Her Life
Poojashree wasn’t just a victim. She was a person. She had a daughter. She had a job. She had dreams. She wore bangles that jingled when she laughed. She planted flowers in the balcony. She texted her sister late at night when things got hard.
She stayed because she hoped.
She stayed because she was told to.
She stayed because leaving felt like failure.
And now, she’s gone.
Her mother borrowed ₹30 lakh for the wedding. Her grandmother says they were misled about Nandeesh’s background. Her relatives say she was forced to hand over everything she had.
And when she died, a relative was so shocked he had a heart attack and passed away too.
This is what violence does.
It ripples.
It ruins.
It rewrites futures.
🕊️ The Funeral
They buried her quietly. No headlines. No justice yet. Just grief.
Her daughter clung to her grandmother’s sari, asking when her mother would wake up.
The neighbors lit candles. The bank sent flowers. The police opened a case.
But the silence was louder than the sirens.
Because this isn’t just about one woman.
It’s about all the women who are told to endure.
To adjust.
To forgive.
To stay.
It’s about the culture that treats dowry as tradition, abuse as private, and women’s pain as negotiable.
It’s about the systems that fail them.
Again and again.
📣 The Reckoning
Poojashree’s death sparked outrage online. Activists demanded reform. Journalists revisited old cases. Survivors spoke out.
But will it be enough?
Will her name be remembered?
Will her daughter grow up in a world where love doesn’t come with bruises?
Will the next woman be believed?
Because every time we say “R.I.P,” we risk letting the story end there.
But it shouldn’t.
It should begin.
With questions.
With action.
With remembrance.
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So when you read “Young woman dies at the hands of her…” don’t stop at the ellipsis.
Finish the sentence.
Her husband.
Her silence.
Her society.
Her story.
And then say her name.
Poojashree.
Because she mattered.
And she deserves more than a headline.
