Falling prey to the murderous rage of a father
Amita Shah
Amita Shah
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18 Jul, 2025
Radhika Yadav
THERE WAS AN uneasy hush at G-156, Sushant Lok II, in Gurugram. It had been three days since 25-year-old Radhika Yadav, a state-level tennis player, was shot dead by her father on the first floor of the bungalow. In the front yard of the three-storeyed house, her mother—her eyes still and lips sealed— sat among 30-40 women, their heads covered with dupattas. A woman sitting next to her makes it clear that they do not want to engage with the media. “You know everything. He [Radhika’s father and prime accused Deepak Yadav] has confessed. What more do you want to know? Her mother is not feeling well.” She directs us to the side where the men are sitting in mourning.
In an adjoining space, under another tent, at least 50 men sat on the floor, with a couple of hookahs among them. They are equally reticent. “Her uncles have already told the media what they had to. There is nothing more,” one of them says. The men in Radhika’s immediate family—her uncles and brother—had gone to the Ganga to immerse the ashes.
A neighbour, living across the road, says he had often seen Deepak take his daughter for tennis practice in the car, sometimes even at 4AM. “I don’t know what happened,” he said, a question that lingers in several minds. A relative, living a few houses down the road, describes Radhika as a “pure-hearted girl.” Nobody wanted to talk. Nobody wanted to speculate. Nobody had answers.
The silence that day was only broken by an Instagram post by Himaanshika Singh Rajput, who described herself as Radhika’s best friend for the past 8-10 years. This was the second post in two days, which she labelled “part 2”. It reinforced an earlier video in which she explained how Radhika felt suffocated in the “orthodox” atmosphere of her home. “Her father was influenced by a few friends, who became jealous of her success. The four things that he heard were that she had started wearing make-up and short clothes, that he was starting to live off of her, and that he might as well get her into prostitution. How long will women die because of the fragile male ego?” Himaanshika asked in her post. She also alleged that her murder was premeditated. Her mother was in another room, her brother was sent away, and her dog, Luna, a pitbull, was kept out.
Radhika’s achievements did not apparently free her from the patriarchal snare of a milieu that has drawn dogmatic lines for women. She fell to four bullets of the very man who had invested time and money in her tennis dreams
Radhika, a girl born into a family belonging to Wazirabad, a village in Haryana, had started playing tennis at eight, after her family moved to Gurugram. People close to the family said that it was her father who stood by Radhika, investing money and time into her tennis dream. She was ranked 113 in the International Tennis Federation list and fifth in Haryana in the women’s doubles. But her accomplishments did not apparently free her from the patriarchal snare of a milieu that has drawn dogmatic lines for women. Caught between her dreams and the diktats of orthodoxy, Radhika fell to four bullets of the very man who had bankrolled her, helping her see a world far apart from the one she came from.
Going by Himaanshika, the only person known to her who has spoken out about the dynamics within the family, Radhika’s life had become miserable over the last 10 days before she died. She is, however, dismissive of speculation about the murder being linked to a music video uploaded in January last year, in which she featured with singer-actor Inamul Haq. Radhika’s account on Instagram was private with just 68 followers, and her last post was in March 2024. Himaanshika recalls that Radhika’s parents were always hovering around her, curious about who she was talking to. “She was a kind soul, sweet and innocent,” she says.
According to the official statement of the police, Deepak was unhappy about Radhika running a tennis “academy”. She coached several students in tennis, including high-profile clients, initially at an academy and later at two adjoining tennis courts, not far from her house. Ensconced amidst trees, the courts now stand deserted, with just a stone bench and a chair. The police have said that during questioning, Deepak alleged that he often faced taunts by locals when he went to buy milk in Wazirabad, his ancestral village. He, however, did not name anyone.
Around two kilometres away, at Wazirabad, everyone knows Deepak Yadav. The shock over the news that he had killed his daughter seems to have tempered over time. The villagers dispassionately give directions to his house, their expressions betraying nothing. The winding, narrow, slushy streets lead to an old two-storey house, belonging to the Yadav family. The tenants say they have no idea who Deepak is, and someone else comes to collect the rent every month. At a house nearby, an elderly woman, Sharmila, a relative of the Yadav family who earlier in the day was among the mourners at their Sushant Lok house, says Deepak left Wazirabad in 2008, when Radhika was a child. “It was shocking. It’s all destiny,” she says when asked about the murder, even as a young woman with her head covered with a dupatta comes out to offer a glass of water.
With modern multi-storey concrete and glass structures replacing some of the old houses, the village seems to be on the cusp of change, at least on the face of it. It was in one of these contemporary houses, owned by his cousin Vinod Yadav, that Deepak went to get milk from. “He used to come here for milk. He put a lot of money into Radhika’s tennis career. We have not heard of anyone taunting him about her earnings. In fact, we were proud that a girl from the village had become an accomplished tennis player. Only God knows what happened,” says Vinod, before his relatives call him inside, saying there are guests in the house waiting for him. On the day of the murder, Radhika’s brother Dheeraj had gone to Wazirabad to fetch milk.
Back at Sushant Lok, the men have returned after immersing Radhika’s ashes. Dheeraj refuses to say a word. The women are no longer in the front yard. Most of the men have left. A few huddle around Radhika’s uncle Vijay Yadav, his eyes red and swollen. He refuses to talk. “I have nothing to say.” As it starts pouring, some men talk of the weather, a small distraction from the heaviness in the air that has lingered over the household since July 10, when Deepak shot his daughter from behind as she was cooking.
A day earlier, Vijay had told the media, “mujhe yeh kaha bhai maine kanya vadh kar diya hai… mujhe maar do… Police station mein bhi kaha ki agar phansi ka rule hai toh mujhe phansi de do (He told me, brother, I have murdered my daughter. I should be killed. Even at the police station, he said if there is a judgement for hanging, then hang me).” Police sources, however, say they have no knowledge of Deepak having said any of this.
Vijay said Deepak did not give any reason for killing Radhika, but just told him that he had lost his mind. “There is no bigger punishment than the realisation of guilt,” Vijay said. He recalled that he had dedicated himself entirely to his daughter’s tennis training, and said that Deepak was always financially well off. He also clarified that Radhika did not run an academy but coached at various places.
One of Radhika’s students, whom she coached at the Ryder’s Sports Academy near her house for a year till May, describes her as an excellent trainer, who was confident, patient, knowledgeable and had a good sense of humour. The 18-year-old, who does not want to be named, says she was good with training in strategy against opponents, and was demanding, but very perceptive. At times, the classes were solo, but there were days when there would be five or six other students for the hour-long coaching.
Between her life at the academy and her home, which is located a stone’s throw away, Radhika trudged a long way, keeping her predicaments close to her heart. At the academy, she set the rules for coaching. At home, she lived by the norms imposed by her family. Vandana, the mother of another student who trained under her at the Ryder’s Academy, recalls her as a talented, chirpy, lively girl. “The last time I spoke to Radhika, she told me that she was starting to coach on her own. I went numb when I heard the news of her murder. The reasons cited for it seem absurd,”she says.
Reels, attire, aspirations, idle talk. Could these be reasons to murder? Was Radhika a victim of a socio-cultural mindset that ingrains into men that they will ordain codes of propriety for women, defying which could end up in brutal ways?
Why did Deepak kill his daughter? According to his statement, the source of contention was her coaching of upcoming tennis players. He told the police that he faced taunts that he was living off his daughter. But Deepak reportedly made good money from real estate. Himaanshika’s post suggests that he got influenced by a few gossip mongers, and it was “male ego” that took her friend’s life. Another theory revolves around a communal angle over the music video with Inamul Haq, who has, however, said he barely knew her and their only connection was the video. Reels, attire, aspirations, idle talk. Could any of these be reasons to murder? Was Radhika a victim of a socio-cultural mindset that ingrains into men that they will ordain the codes of propriety for women, defying which could end up in brutal ways? Was she killed in the discord between her goals and societal strictures? Was there something else to it? As her uncle indicated, only Deepak would know the exact motive.
“Patriarchal dominance and misogynist tendencies still hold an overbearing sway in Haryana. There have been instances where women have become silent victims for violating patriarchal norms. This case has to be seen in that context. Gender inequality is not just a fact, but part of the value system, denying women the freedom to live on their own terms,” says Jitender Prasad, a retired professor of Sociology from MD University in Rohtak. The state has had a skewed sex ratio, dropping to 910 females per 1,000 males in 2024. According to Prasad, despite changes in Haryana’s society, with education levels going up even among women, there are still limitations on them, prescribed by a conservative ethos.
The last word, maybe, is yet to come in Radhika’s murder. For the police, it is an “open and shut” case with her father confessing to the crime. The law will take its course. Her mother, Manju Yadav, has been silent. She may or may not open up. The family may or may not fight a legal battle. But who will take up the cudgels for Radhika? Or, will her story just die down?
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