By Syed Arsalan Abid

THE latest to join the city's long list of emotional dramas is Shelly Mahajan v. Ms. Bhanushree Bahl & Anr. - where a wife has sued her husband's“special friend” for ₹4 crores, accusing her of alienation of affection. No one's been found guilty, and no final verdict has been passed - the Delhi High Court merely pressed the doorbell:“Ding-dong, summons.”

It's a plotline that would make even Indian TV serials blush - a 2012 marriage, twin children, a business venture, a new colleague in 2021, and by 2023, a digital discovery that turned love into litigation.

This isn't about criminal adultery. That chapter ended in Joseph Shine v. Union of India (2018), when the Supreme Court struck down Section 497 IPC and politely asked the State to stay out of people's bedrooms. But Delhi has now added a footnote to that freedom: adultery may no longer land you behind bars, but it can still make your bank account lighter. Love, it seems, has gone from passion to payment gateway.

So yes, no handcuffs - just consequences. You can follow your heart, but someone else might follow you to court.

When Love Meets Law

The Court didn't preach or pass verdict; it simply said the claim deserves to be heard. But that one line was enough to stir quiet curiosity across the country. Over steaming cups of Chai and late-evening gossip, people are debating this new idea of“damages for affection.”

The reactions are half amusement, half disbelief -“Four crores for love lost? In Delhi, even heartbreak comes with a valuation!” Somewhere between sips and sarcasm, someone adds,“At this rate, even a harmless Chai invitation could end up in court.

Even the shikaras on Dal Lake seem to glide a little more cautiously now - too many reflections, too much evidence, and far too many stories waiting to float.

The New Morality Clause

The Delhi High Court's observation isn't moral policing; it's a mirror held up to modern relationships. Love is free - but freedom doesn't mean forgetfulness. The law, in its calm way, isn't judging affection; it's recognising injury. Personal liberty, after all, does not mean emotional anarchy. Choices have ripples; affection, like property, cannot be trespassed without consequence.

Imagine the scene in court: screenshots, WhatsApp chats, perhaps a selfie captioned“meeting at work.” Love has officially entered the document section, and every cup of Chai now looks like Exhibit B waiting to happen.

The cultural tremor is undeniable. That harmless heart emoji at midnight? Potential liability. That“innocent” Chai invitation? Suspicious. Sharing a tableat a cafe may now have civil consequences.

Cupid's New Disclaimer

And somewhere beneath the laughter sits a quiet truth: the law won't jail you for falling in love, but it might make you pay for falling carelessly.

MENAFN18102025000215011059ID1110215479