Darkness Behind the Gate: The South Kolkata Law College Scandal That Shook a Nation.

..

.

.

It was just another humid June afternoon in Kolkata—until a tragedy unfolded behind the quiet gates of South Kolkata Law College that would shatter a young woman’s life and ignite national outrage.

On June 25, 2025, a 24-year-old first-year law student walked into her college campus to submit an examination form. It was routine. She had done it before, like any of her peers. The institution, nestled in the bustling heart of South Kolkata, had always been seen as a safe space for aspiring lawyers and professionals. But that day would mark the beginning of a nightmare no one could have imagined.

As the sun dipped below the city skyline and shadows stretched across the emptying corridors, the student—whose identity remains protected under Indian law—was asked by a few men to stay back. Perhaps they needed to discuss something, she thought innocently. But what followed was not a conversation. It was a calculated, premeditated act of violence.

By 7:30 p.m., the college campus had mostly emptied. The girl found herself being lured into a security guard room on the ground floor—right next to the student union office. It was supposed to be a secure place, familiar even. Instead, it became a prison.

Inside were three men: Monojit Mishra, 31, a former student and temporary staff member known for his advocacy of women’s rights in the college; Zaib Ahmed, 19, a first-year student; and Pramit Mukherjee, 20, a second-year student. Monojit, once seen as a champion of justice, had sinister intentions. According to the victim’s chilling testimony, he proposed marriage to her. When she rejected his proposal, stating she loved someone else, his demeanor darkened.

What followed was horrifying.

The girl was forcibly dragged into the guard room, where Monojit, enraged by her refusal, allegedly began the assault. She begged him to stop. She folded her hands. She touched his feet. She told him she had a boyfriend and loved him dearly. But her pleas fell on deaf ears. The man who once claimed to fight for women’s rights stripped her of her dignity in the very space he once pledged to protect.

Outside the room, Zaib and Pramit stood as sentries, ensuring no one interrupted the crime. They didn’t just stay silent—they helped facilitate the horror, shielding the door and, reportedly, recording a 90-second clip of the assault on a mobile phone. The footage would later become crucial evidence in the investigation.

The girl tried to fight back. She did everything she could. But she was overpowered. She was beaten with a hockey stick, left with bite marks, scratches on her neck and chest, and internal injuries. When she asked for her inhaler during a panic attack, it was handed to her—but no other help came. There was no kindness. Only control and cruelty.

Shockingly, a 55-year-old security guard named Pinaki Banerjee stood just outside. He did nothing. Didn’t report the incident. Didn’t alert police. Didn’t intervene.

The nightmare continued for over three hours.

When the perpetrators were done, they left her there—like an object. As if her life didn’t matter. Before they fled, they issued a chilling threat: if she told anyone, they would leak the video and harm her family and boyfriend.

But she didn’t stay silent.

Summoning unimaginable courage, she picked herself up, left the campus, and reported the crime to the Kasba Police Station the very next day. Her voice, though trembling, was clear. She named her attackers and described every gruesome detail.

Police acted swiftly. Monojit and Zaib were arrested that same evening. Pramit was caught the next morning. Their phones—holding the damning video—were seized. Days later, the security guard was also arrested for criminal negligence.

The forensic team sealed the crime scene. CCTV footage showed the girl being taken into the guard room against her will. Medical reports confirmed bite marks, bruises, and scratches. Everything she said was true.

But soon, the fight for justice turned political.

Photos of Monojit posing with Trinamool Congress leaders surfaced. The BJP pounced, accusing the ruling party of shielding criminals. TMC fired back, denying current ties with Monojit, claiming he had not held a party position since 2022. But the outrage had already spilled into the streets. Students, lawyers, activists, and everyday citizens began protesting, demanding accountability and action—not just against the perpetrators, but against the institutional rot that allowed this to happen.

How could a man like Monojit—previously reported for harassing female students—continue to roam free on campus, exercising power without checks? Why didn’t the administration act on past complaints? Why was there no system to protect the vulnerable?

Stories from other students began to emerge—accounts of intimidation, photos taken without consent, inappropriate touching, and threats. Some had tried to speak up. But Monojit was powerful. He had influence. And everyone knew it.

By July 1st, all four accused were in police custody. The National Commission for Women called for a time-bound investigation. College classes were suspended. The entire campus became a crime scene. And in an act of unimaginable trauma, the girl was brought back to the guard room to help recreate the scene for the investigation.

She cooperated. She stood where she was broken.

Not for herself. But for justice.

And yet, as with too many cases in India, blame soon began to shift. Online and offline, some people questioned why she was there alone. Why she stayed late. Why she trusted them. The same old questions. The same old poison. As if the fault could ever lie with anyone but the monsters who committed this crime.

This case—like the RG Kar Medical College scandal before it—raises urgent questions: Are our educational institutions safe? Why are predators able to gain power and remain unchecked? And perhaps most painfully—what happens when the people we trust to protect us are the very ones who harm us?

For now, a brave young woman has spoken. She has endured unspeakable pain. She chose truth, knowing it would cost her peace.

But in her strength lies hope—not just for justice in this case, but for change across a nation still battling to protect its daughters.