From Protection to Exploitation? Rethinking Maintenance Laws Through Judicial Accountability

In January 2025, a widely discussed case from Pune drew attention to how maintenance provisions are applied in practice. A family court awarded interim maintenance of ₹1.35 lakh per month to a wife who was earning ₹1.4 lakh at the time, while her husband’s salary was ₹2.8 lakh. The marriage had lasted just six months. The rationale was that she had a right to live at the same standard as she did during cohabitation. Since then, the financial circumstances of both have changed significantly, with the husband’s earnings reportedly falling and the wife’s increasing. Yet the interim order remains in place. This raises a fundamental question: when the primary purpose of maintenance is to protect the financially weaker spouse, does continuing the same award despite a reversal in income undermine the logic of the law?

In July 2025, the Supreme Court heard a matter where a woman sought ₹12 crore, a luxury flat and a BMW in alimony after an 18-month marriage. The bench asked a pointed question: why could she not work, given her education and capabilities? The Court’s remark struck at the heart of a debate that has been growing over recent years, namely whether alimony and maintenance have, in some situations, drifted from need-based support towards disproportionate financial claims. That case also highlighted a broader procedural problem: high-value, high-profile demands from financially able spouses tend to dominate court time, while women with genuine dependency and urgent needs often face years of delay before receiving any meaningful relief.

The tension between intended protection and actual practice was also visible in a December 2024 decision in Rinku Baheti v. Sandesh Sharda. The Supreme Court dissolved the marriage under Article 142 on the ground of irretrievable breakdown, awarded ₹12 crore as permanent alimony, and directed the wife to vacate two properties belonging to the husband’s father in Pune and Bhopal. It also quashed criminal proceedings, including charges under Section 498A IPC, after noting the husband had been in custody for nearly a month. The husband’s case was that the couple had cohabited for barely three months. While the judgment criticised misuse of criminal provisions in matrimonial disputes, the quantum of alimony nevertheless raised eyebrows among those who believe financial relief should be proportionate to the duration of the marriage and the needs of the claimant.

These examples reflect an uncomfortable reality. Maintenance and alimony laws in India are grounded in compassion and equity, designed to prevent women from falling into destitution when a marriage ends. Provisions under Section 125 of the Criminal Procedure Code, Sections 24 and 25 of the Hindu Marriage Act, and the Protection of Women from Domestic Violence Act exist to ensure that a dependent spouse is not left without a means of living. At their core, these provisions recognise that economic disparity between spouses can create hardship, and that the economically weaker party may be entitled to support. However, in practice, judicial orders in maintenance cases vary widely across courts, even on similar facts. This inconsistency fuels prolonged litigation, encourages inflated or strategic claims, and often fails to address the needs of those most vulnerable.

The law on maintenance has been shaped by landmark precedents. In Mohd. Ahmad Khan v. Shah Bano Begum in 1985, the Supreme Court upheld the right of a divorced Muslim woman to claim maintenance under Section 125 CrPC, a secular provision that operates irrespective of personal law. The subsequent Muslim Women (Protection of Rights on Divorce) Act of 1986 diluted the immediate effect of that decision, but in Danial Latifi v. Union of India in 2001, the Court interpreted the Act to require a “reasonable and fair provision” that could extend beyond the iddat period. These cases expanded the conceptual reach of maintenance as a right grounded in dignity.

More recently, the Supreme Court in Rakhi Sadhukhan v. Raja Sadhukhan in 2025 enhanced permanent alimony from ₹20,000 to ₹50,000 per month, with a 5 per cent biennial increase, and directed the transfer of the marital home to the wife. The decision reflected an approach that considers lifestyle changes and long-term security. In Rajnesh v. Neha, the Court laid down uniform guidelines for maintenance, identifying factors such as financial capacity, standard of living, and reasonable needs, and mandating disclosure of assets and liabilities by both parties. The Delhi High Court’s directions in Kusum Sharma v. Mahinder Kumar Sharma, first issued in 2015 and updated subsequently, require detailed affidavits of income, expenditure and assets before maintenance is fixed. Suchitra v. Zubin Shekary cautioned against assuming that an earning wife has no claim, and Ritika Sharma v. Ashok Sharma affirmed that employment does not void entitlement if a disparity remains.

Despite these guiding principles, their application on the ground is uneven. Many trial courts do not rigorously enforce disclosure mandates, resulting in awards based on incomplete or outdated information. Interim maintenance, meant as a temporary measure, can remain in force for years while the final determination is delayed, even when the parties’ financial positions have changed dramatically. At the appellate level, similar fact patterns can produce vastly different results, creating a sense of unpredictability and eroding public confidence in the fairness of the process.

Judicial accountability is essential to address these issues. This is not about undermining judicial discretion, but about ensuring that discretion is exercised within a consistent framework that gives weight to current financial realities, the duration of the marriage, the conduct of the parties, and the genuine needs of the claimant. Courts must be willing to swiftly modify interim orders when circumstances change. They must treat perjury and non-disclosure in maintenance cases as serious offences, with real consequences, rather than procedural lapses. They must also prioritise cases involving women with no income or dependent children over short-lived, high-income marriages seeking extraordinary sums.

Gender neutrality in matrimonial litigation does not mean ignoring the structural disadvantages many women face. It means recognising that not every woman before the court is a victim, and not every man a wrongdoer. It means applying the same evidentiary standards, disclosure requirements, and proportionality tests to all parties, regardless of gender. It means ensuring that maintenance orders are not only fair at the time they are made but remain fair over the life of the litigation.

Without consistent application of existing guidelines such as those in Rajnesh v. Neha and Kusum Sharma, and without a stronger culture of accountability, the gap between the promise of protection and the reality of outcomes will persist. The result is a system where some litigants can use the law as a tool of financial extraction, while others in genuine need are left waiting for years. Justice in these cases must be both swift and proportionate, grounded in current facts rather than assumptions, and transparent enough to command public trust. That is the real test of judicial accountability in alimony and maintenance today.