Pune Rape Case Update: In the Pune rape case, the delivery boy turned out to be an acquaintance of the woman, according to CCTV footage.

In the shadowed corridors of Kolkata’s prestigious law colleges, a chilling narrative of unchecked power, sexual violence, and systemic failure has erupted into public consciousness. At its center stands Monojit Mishra—alias “Mango Mishra”—a 24-year-old former student leader whose alleged serial predation, enabled by institutional apathy and political patronage, exposes the rot festering within India’s educational power structures. As survivors break years of silence, their testimonies paint a harrowing portrait of a man who weaponized campus politics to terrorize women, assault staff, and evade accountability—until a gangrape allegation finally snapped society’s tolerance.

A Pattern of Brutality: Survivors Break the Silence

The case unraveled when a second-year law student courageously detailed her ordeal to India Today. On the night of July 3, 2025, during a raucous college fest, Mishra allegedly lured her into a secluded room under false pretenses. “He turned up the music using a remote control to drown my screams,” she recounted. “Then he dragged me by my hair to the balcony, tore my clothes, and…”. Her account halts here, the trauma still raw. Salvation came via a senior student’s fortuitous knock—a interruption that forced Mishra to flee but left the survivor psychologically shattered.

This incident, now part of a formal gangrape charge under IPC Section 376D, is merely the tip of an iceberg. Over 15 survivors have approached police since Mishra’s arrest, alleging offenses ranging from molestation to acid attack threats. One recurring motif emerges: Mishra’s calculated use of institutional spaces. The college union room—meant for debate and camaraderie—was transformed into his personal den of vice, reeking of alcohol and intimidation. “He’d hold court there nightly, drinking confiscated liquor,” revealed a batchmate anonymously. “Anyone protesting risked beatings or worse.”

The Anatomy of a Campus Godfather

Mishra’s reign combined political clout with brute force. Once a rising star in the Trinamool Congress (TMC) student wing, his 2021 expulsion for “behavioral issues” merely redirected his ambitions. Police records obtained by The Indian Express reveal a history-sheeter with 11 prior charges:

2019: Assaulting a librarian who objected to his drunken brawls
2022: Fracturing a security guard’s eardrum for denying entry
2023: Vandalizing classrooms after a professor reported his harassment of a Dalit student

His modus operandi relied on dual weapons: fear and impunity. Survivors describe him prowling hostels with a gang of enforcers, targeting women who rejected his advances. “He’d whisper, ‘I make careers or break them,’” shared a 2024 graduate now in therapy. “We knew complaining meant expulsion or acid attacks.”

Institutional Betrayal: When Protectors Become Perpetrators

The case’s most damning revelation isn’t Mishra’s crimes but the ecosystem that nurtured them. Pinaki Banerjee, the 55-year-old security guard arrested for negligence, allegedly ignored multiple distress calls during the July 3 assault. “Banerjee took Mishra’s monthly bribes to look away,” an internal probe found. “CCTV cameras near the union room were deliberately disabled.”

Faculty complicity ran deeper. Despite Mishra’s expulsion from TMC, residual political ties allegedly shielded him. “Staff feared retaliatory transfers if they crossed him,” disclosed a professor speaking on condition of anonymity. Even the college’s Internal Complaints Committee (ICC), mandated under the 2013 Sexual Harassment Act, stood idle. “We filed three complaints,” said a survivor. “Each was dismissed as ‘personal matters.’”

Political Webs and the Culture of Impunity

Mishra’s brief TMC affiliation—though officially severed—casts a long shadow. Opposition leaders allege the party tacitly enabled his crimes to maintain campus control. “Student unions are recruitment hubs,” explained political analyst Sohini Ghosh. “Parties tolerate toxic leaders if they deliver votes.”

The TMC’s swift dissociation—calling Mishra a “rogue element”—rings hollow to survivors. Text messages leaked to ABP Ananda show Mishra coordinating 2023 campus protests with a sitting TMC MLA. While no direct party involvement in his crimes is proven, the association provided a psychological shield. “He’d boast about having ‘Didi’s [Mamata Banerjee’s] protection,’” recalled a hostel warden.

Broken Systems: Legal Loopholes and Survivor Trauma

Mishra’s ability to evade consequences highlights systemic flaws. Under India’s POSH Act, colleges must report harassment cases within 90 days—a window many survivors miss due to trauma or institutional pressure. “By the time I gathered courage, the ICC said it was ‘too late,’” lamented a 2022 victim.

Legal experts note how offenders exploit jurisdictional gaps. Mishra’s earlier assaults occurred on college grounds but were registered in different police stations, preventing pattern recognition. “Each case was treated in isolation,” said DCP (Crime) Rohit Sharma. “Only the gangrape charge unified them.”

Psychological warfare compounded legal barriers. Survivors describe Mishra circulating morphed photos and threatening family members. “He knew my brother worked at a tea stall,” one survivor said. “He’d say, ‘Should I send men there?’”

The Ripple Effect: Campus Reckoning and Student Mobilization

The case has ignited unprecedented student activism. Law campuses across Bengal are conducting “audit marches”—mapping unsafe zones and demanding:

    Live CCTV monitoring accessible to gender committees
    Monthly police liaison officers on campus
    Mandatory POSH Act workshops
    Transparent ICC proceedings

At Mishra’s alma mater, students have occupied administrative offices, forcing the resignation of three ICC members. “We won’t let this be another forgotten case,” declared protest leader Ananya Roy.

Beyond Kolkata: India’s #MeToo Moment in Education

Mishra’s case mirrors nationwide crises. Data from the National Commission for Women shows a 217% rise in campus sexual violence reports since 2020—a surge activists attribute to greater awareness rather than increased crime.

Parallels emerge with recent scandals:

2023: A Hyderabad university’s “sex-for-grades” racket
2024: Mumbai’s hostel surveillance spy cam network
2025: Delhi’s fake internship assault case

Each incident shares a common thread: institutional prioritization of reputation over safety.

The Road Ahead: Policy Reforms and Cultural Shifts

As Mishra’s trial proceeds, policymakers propose urgent reforms:

Centralized Offender Databases: Tracking repeat offenders across institutions
Survivor-Centric FIR Lodging: Allowing complaints at any police station
Political Party Accountability: Mandating background checks for student wing members

Simultaneously, grassroots movements are challenging patriarchal norms. Kolkata’s Nari Mukti Sangh has launched “Red Zone” workshops teaching self-defense and legal literacy. “We’re unshackling the culture of silence,” said activist Malini Das.

Conclusion: Justice as a Catalyst for Systemic Change

Monojit Mishra’s alleged crimes are not aberrations but symptoms of a deeper malaise—one where political ambition, institutional cowardice, and societal indifference converge to enable predators. As survivors battle for justice in crowded courtrooms, their courage has already sparked a revolution on campuses nationwide.

The true test lies in sustaining this momentum. Will India transform its educational spaces from hunting grounds to sanctuaries? The answer, perhaps, lies in the defiant words of a survivor now leading legal reforms: “They tried to bury us. They didn’t know we were seeds.”

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