Introduction
The recent Himachal Pradesh High Court decision granting bail to a married man accused of rape by a woman he met on the dating app Bumble has drawn attention to how India’s criminal law addresses modern dating scenarios. On 23 May 2025, Justice Virender Singh of the Himachal Pradesh High Court ordered release on bail of Vayuputra Anirudh Thotapalli, a Telangana man accused of raping a Bengaluru-based woman in Dharamshala. The complainant alleged that Thotapalli befriended her on Bumble, won her trust with promises of marriage, and then sexually assaulted her while intoxicated. The court observed that the case raised novel issues: the role of dating apps in forming relationships, the importance of “false promise of marriage” in sexual consent, and the limits of pre-trial detention.. This article analyses the background and facts of the case, reviews prior Indian case law on rape by false promises of marriage, and examines the court’s reasoning and its broader legal implications — especially under the proposed Bharatiya Nyaya Sanhita (BNS), India’s draft criminal code which explicitly criminalises “false promise” rape.
Background
According to the High Court’s unreported order, the complainant created a profile on the Bumble app “to find a suitable life partner.” The applicant, Thotapalli, contacted her through Bumble, and the two began exchanging messages. They agreed to meet in person for the first time on 25 February 2025, in Dharamshala, Himachal Pradesh. The woman travelled alone from Telangana to Dharamshala to meet the accused. During the meeting, Thotapalli allegedly insisted on having alcoholic drinks with her. When she became “inebriated,” he is said to have compelled her to have sexual intercourse “on the pretext of marriage”. The complainant later discovered that Thotapalli was already married.
Roughly a month after the incident, on 25 March 2025, the woman filed an FIR at Dharamshala Police Station. The case registered was FIR No.53/2025 (dated 25 March 2025) under Section 64(1) of the Bharatiya Nyaya Sanhita (BNS) – the provision defining rape and prescribing severe punishment – and Section 69 of the BNS – the new provision for rape by false promise of marriage. (Under the old law, these would correspond roughly to IPC Sections 375/376 (rape) and 376(2)(f) (rape by false promise) respectively.) In investigation, the police associated the prosecutrix, inspected the spot of offence on 31 March 2025 (where she identified the bed used in the assault), recorded her statements (under the new procedural code BNSS, the draft CrPC) on 1 April 2025, and added the charge of Section 69 BNS that day. On 2 April 2025, a police team located and arrested Thotapalli at his home in Telangana. His medical examination and forensic tests followed. The victim’s forensic samples (taken earlier in Telangana) were sent for analysis (the results of which were still pending at the time of the bail hearing).
Thotapalli applied for bail in the Himachal High Court. At the 14 May 2025 hearing, the prosecutrix appeared via video link and reiterated her account: that she had been raped on the promise of marriage and later learned that the accused was married. The applicant’s counsel contended that the encounter was consensual and should not be considered a criminal violation. Documents about the Bumble app were placed on record, confirming that it is a dating app, consistent with the accused’s claim that the woman voluntarily created the account and agreed to meet. The High Court noted facts from the record, including her solo travel, the first-ever meeting, and the involvement of alcohol. Crucially, it observed that whether the sexual act was consensual or induced by deceit would be determined at trial. Still, for bail, the court could consider that she “travelled from Telangana to Dharamshala, as a solo traveller and stayed with a person whom she had not met earlier except on the Bumble App.” The Court also observed that the prosecutrix waited about a month to lodge the FIR, an unexplained delay which could be relevant for assessing credibility.
After hearing arguments, the Court granted bail on 23 May 2025, stressing that the accused could not be held in custody indefinitely when the investigation was nearly complete. The order notes that “the applicant cannot be kept in judicial custody indefinitely, as pre-trial punishment is prohibited under the law”. Finding no need for further custodial interrogation, the judge held that a case for pre-trial detention was not made out. Thotapalli was ordered released on a bond of ₹50,000, subject to standard conditions (regular appearance, no evidence tampering, no inducement of witnesses, no leaving India).
Previous Judgments on “False Promise” Rape Claims
Indian courts have long struggled with cases where a sexual encounter is alleged to have been consensual but procured by a false promise of marriage. Under the old IPC regime, Section 376(2)(f) (added in 1983) treated rape by “fraudulent” marriage promises as an aggravating circumstance. However, the high courts and Supreme Court have taken differing views on when a broken promise makes consensual sex a rape.
For example, in Dr. Jaikaran Bedi v. State of Punjab (2017), the Supreme Court observed that sex obtained on a false promise to marry (with no intention to fulfil it) falls within “fraud” in Section 376(2)(f). The Court held that if the accused had no real intention to marry, he “led her on to believe that their marriage would take place,” vitiating her consent. Similarly, in Naveen Kohli v. Neelu Kohli (2009), the Court approved applying 376(2)(f) where the promise was false. On the other hand, other decisions have taken a narrower view. In Deepak Gulati v. State of Haryana (2013), the Supreme Court quashed rape charges against a man because, although the parties had a consensual relationship, there was no force or threat and the allegation of a false promise was not adequately made out. The Court emphasised that mere “false promise” to marry does not automatically make consensual sex into rape unless it fits the statutory definition.
More recently, courts have generally stressed the complainant’s intentions and the surrounding circumstances. For instance, a Madhya Pradesh case (Anurag Soni v. State of Chhattisgarh, 2019) held that if an accused genuinely intended to marry originally but later called off the wedding for unforeseen reasons, that does not amount to rape. The false-promise theory applies only where no intent to marry existed. Likewise, the Uttar Pradesh High Court in Rajnish Singh Soni v. State of U.P. (2025) quashed a rape FIR in a long-term (15-year) relationship, finding it implausible that a woman would maintain a consensual affair for years solely on a feigned promise.
On the contrary, some courts have invalidated promises made by married persons. In a 2024 Karnataka judgment (reported by LiveLaw and SCCTimes), a married woman claimed a 10-month affair on a promise of marriage after her divorce. The Supreme Court (Bench of Nagarathna and S.C. Sharma) quashed the rape case, holding that a married woman who entered a sexual relationship without any divorce at the time could not have been induced by a lawful promise to marry. The Bench noted that she only obtained a divorce after the relationship had begun, so any promise was “inconceivable” and even illegal until her divorce decree. As the SC succinctly put it: “It is inconceivable that the complainant had engaged in a physical relationship with the appellant on the assurance of marriage, while she was already married to someone else.” The Court found inconsistencies – the woman continued the liaison for a year, visited him voluntarily, and even obtained a divorce months into the relationship – facts irreconcilable with being duped. In its Order dated 4 June 2025, the Court explicitly ruled that “a married woman cannot accuse a man of rape on the promise of marriage while her marriage is still subsisting”.
Similarly, in March 2024 the Supreme Court quashed an FIR where a separated but legally married woman accused a man of rape on false promise. Noting that the complainant lived with her parents and daughter (who consented to her living with the accused), the Court stressed that there was no evidence of any false promise and that the woman’s relatives knew of the relationship. The bench observed the complainant “fell in the trap” due to her troubled marriage, but ultimately elected to marry the accused in a temple – facts inconsistent with deception. As the Court highlighted, the FIR was dismissed on the point of the absence of any false promise to marry, and the consent of he complainant’s daughter and parents. These cases underscore a growing trend: Indian courts closely scrutinise false-promise claims, especially if the complainant was aware of the accused’s marital status or freely engaged in the relationship.
Legal Analysis and Regulatory Considerations
Relevant Statutes (Bharatiya Nyaya Sanhita and Others)
Although the Himachal High Court referred to “BNS” provisions, it should be noted that as of 2025, these new laws (Bharatiya Nyaya Sanhita for substantive offences and BNSS for procedure) are draft replacements for the IPC and CrPC. They are not formally in force, but police and courts are already citing them. In the case at hand, the FIR invoked Section 64(1) BNS (rape) and Section 69 BNS (false promise rape). Section 64(1) BNS largely mirrors the old rape law: it punishes any non-consensual sexual intercourse with rigorous imprisonment of not less than ten years, potentially up to life. Aggravated circumstances (rape by a person in authority, on a disabled woman, causing grievous harm, etc.) carry similar severe penalties (see Section 64(2), not reproduced here).
Section 69 BNS is new: it creates a standalone offence for obtaining sexual intercourse by “deceitful means” or a false promise of marriage, punishable by up to 10 years imprisonment plus a fine. Under the draft law, “deceitful means” is defined broadly (including false promises of employment or marriage). The rationale was to address high incidence of “promise to marry” rape cases: NCRB data in 2016 showed over 10,000 reported rapes by persons known to the victim on promises of marriage. Section 69 thus attempts to penalise “sexual intercourse by employing deceitful means” such as a promise of marriage made without intent to fulfil it. In effect, it shifts some promise-to-marry cases out of the ambit of the (usually more serious) rape provisions, since its maximum sentence (10 years) is equal to the minimum for ordinary rape and less than aggravated rape.
Other Indian laws govern aspects of this case. The old Code of Criminal Procedure (CrPC) remains in force until BNS/BNSS are notified; in practice, courts still apply CrPC Sections 164 (record of testimony before magistrate) and 482 (inherent jurisdiction to quash FIR). The High Court in Thotapalli’s case noted that the prosecutrix’s statement was recorded under BNSS 183 (analogous to CrPC 164). The charges themselves (rape and promise) arise under BNS as if it were IPC. There are no allegations under any specific Cyber Laws or IT Act provisions here, aside from general evidence rules for digital evidence (e.g. chat logs on the app, which could be proved under the Indian Evidence Act if needed). The case did involve an allegation that the accused had “recorded their private moments,” but he denied it and later handed his phone to police; the judgment does not discuss any separate charge for voyeurism or image misuse.
Consent and “Misconception of Fact”
A key legal concept is consent and when it is vitiated. The draft BNS closely parallels the IPC definition: Section 28 BNS provides that consent is void if obtained by fear, misrepresentation, intoxication, unsoundness of mind, or “misconception of fact.” A false promise of marriage falls under a “misconception of fact” about the nature of the act. Indeed, commentators note that under BNS Section 28, a false promise is already covered by existing rape law. Thus, the separate Section 69 (making it an independent offence) has been criticised as redundant or contradictory. For example, an analysis explains that Section 63 BNS (rape) and Section 28 already cover most deceit-based scenarios, and adding a “lesser” offence for false promise could conflict with the primary rape offence. Without a non-obstante clause to give Section 69 override effect, Section 63 (rape) would usually take precedence. Some legal scholars argue that Section 69 may violate Article 14 (equal protection) by arbitrarily reducing the punishment for an act that BNS 63 already punishes as a graver offence.
In the present case, the police charged Sections 64 and 69 together. This reflects transitional confusion: would Thotapalli’s alleged act be tried as the more serious rape or (also) as the new stand-alone offence? The High Court did not reach that issue on bail, but noted that the prosecution must ultimately prove whether sexual intercourse was consensual or procured by deceit. If the woman’s consent were found to have been given under a false promise, the BNS would allow conviction under either Section 64 (rape) or Section 69 (false promise rape). Critics would note that duplicative charging should be avoided; supporters would argue that Section 69 provides a statutory basis for cases that formerly relied on judicial interpretation of “fraud” under 376(2)(f).
High Court’s Reasoning and Bail Jurisprudence
The Himachal High Court did not decide who was right on the facts; it only examined whether Thotapalli should remain in custody pending trial. The court’s analysis focused on bail principles. Justice Virender Singh explicitly cited the foundational rule that “pre-trial punishment is prohibited under the law”. This echoes a long line of Indian jurisprudence: for example, Hussainara Khatoon v. State of Bihar (1979) and many subsequent rulings have held that arrest or detention for prolonged periods absent trial violates the right to life and personal liberty (Article 21) and that “bail is the rule, jail an exception.” In State of Rajasthan v. Balchand (1977) and other cases, the Supreme Court stressed that courts must be mindful not to keep an accused behind bars simply because a crime is serious.
Applying these principles, the High Court weighed the facts of the case. It found that beyond the FIR itself, there was little to justify custodial interrogation. The investigation was “almost complete”: the victim’s statements and medical reports were on file, the accused had been arrested and medically examined, and electronic evidence (his mobile phone) was seized. There was “no case for custodial interrogation,” meaning that further detention would not yield new evidence. Moreover, the Court noted that the complainant freely travelled to meet the accused and voluntarily consumed alcohol; she had not alleged force or threat aside from persuasion on marriage. These facts raised a serious question of whether the encounter was truly non-consensual. The bench cautioned that during bail, a detailed evaluation of evidence would be avoided (so as not to prejudice either side). Yet, it referenced the victim’s voyage to meet and stay with the man. In the Court’s view, a woman’s decision to voluntarily join a stranger from a dating app in a secluded location was “a circumstance [which] cannot be ignored while deciding bail”. I was impressed by the prosecutor’s concession that Bumble is merely a dating app and her active involvement in setting up the meeting.
The Court also highlighted the unexplained delay in complaining. The prosecutrix waited almost a month to approach police, even though she completed a medical examination on 25 March 2025. While it acknowledged that delays can be justified by the complainant during trial, at the bail stage, such lapses weighed against the prosecution’s case. The order states: “the prosecutrix took about one month to lodge the FIR. Although it is for the prosecutrix to explain the delay, all these facts cannot be ignored”. Taken together – voluntary travel, shared liquor, pregnancy of false promise in doubt, and delay in complaint – the Court felt that the prosecution’s version was not rock-solid at this stage.
Consequently, the court held that keeping the accused in jail pending trial would amount to pre-trial punishment, which Indian law forbids. It succinctly remarked that the applicant “cannot be kept in judicial custody indefinitely, as pre-trial punishment is prohibited”. This aligns with the axiom that if an investigation is nearly over and no further custodial interrogation is needed, the default should be to grant bail, even in severe cases, unless the prosecution shows concrete reasons to deny it. The judge relied on the fact that there was “no ground for custodial interrogation” and that the applicant’s story (the Bumble encounter) had plausible elements. Finally, the Court noted established safeguards in bail jurisprudence – the accused was released on personal bond with sureties and given strict conditions to attend trial and not tamper with evidence.
In sum, the High Court’s legal analysis balanced the severity of the charges with fundamental rights. The Court implicitly reaffirmed that even in sexual offence cases, liberty should not be denied lightly. It applied ordinary bail standards (CrPC, Article 21) without invoking any special rules, consistent with its statement that “the police are not able to make out a case for custodial interrogation.” In doing so, the court followed lines like Arnesh Kumar v. State of Bihar (2014), which requires magistrates to ensure arrests and continued custody are justified, and Sushil Kumar Choudhary v. Municipal Committee (2008), which stated that denial of bail demands “reasonable, probable and bona fide grounds” showing the accused must be detained. Here, no such grounds were found.
Challenges and Need for Clarity
The Thotapalli case highlights broader challenges: the legal system is grappling with personal relationships formed online and how to apply sexual consent law in that context. Dating apps like Bumble or Tinder expose individuals to strangers, accelerating intimacy and potentially causing misunderstandings. Current laws are technology-neutral, but new fact patterns emerge. For example, courts may need to consider evidence like chat histories or app profiles, though standard evidence rules already cover such digital records. There is no special statute regulating dating apps; they function like any other platform for meeting people. Indian law treats actions on them (meetings, messages) as equivalent to offline interactions.
One regulatory angle is the evidence and privacy aspect. If the accused had secretly recorded the encounter or if private images were taken, recent amendments to the IPC (or planned BNS provisions) might criminalise non-consensual recording or distribution of intimate images. However, in Thotapalli there was no charge of voyeurism or privacy violation, only rape. The victim’s allegation of secret recording was unsubstantiated (she claimed it, he denied it, and later handed over his phone). It is likely that under BNS, there will be explicit offences for “digital sex crimes” such as stalking via electronic means or revenge pornography (the 2023 bills do contain such provisions), but those were not invoked here.
Another issue is the delay and jurisdiction in cases spanning states. The complainant was from Bengaluru, and the accused was from Telangana. The crime was alleged in Himachal. This interstate element requires coordination of police and forensic labs (as occurred: her medical exam in Telangana was sent to the Hyderabad lab, and his exam was sent to the HP lab). Courts will need to set procedures for efficiently handling evidence from a distance, so the HC noted the statements taken in Telangana and their transmission. The BNSS (new CrPC) explicitly provides for video conferencing and remote evidence-taking, reflecting such realities.
Finally, the evolving concept of consent under law must adapt to lived reality. Section 69 BNS and its debate illustrate this point. Does every “betrayed lover” case require criminal sanction, or should courts draw a line? Critics (and some recent judgments) suggest that not all broken promises are criminal: if the woman willingly entered the situation, proof of deceit must be clear. The Thotapalli bail order signalled this caution: the court emphasised that it would not assume a false promise was made at the bail stage just because the woman said so. The Court’s phrasing – that only a trial can establish whether consent was “obtained under the pretext of marriage” – underscores the principle that suspicion alone should not dictate pre-trial detention.
Legislative clarity is needed. The BNS has begun this by spelling out Section 69, but scholars point out potential conflicts with the overall consent framework. For instance, PWOnlyIAS editorial analysis warns that without a specific override, Section 69 might effectively be trumped by the general rape provision (Section 63 BNS) since the latter encompasses deception as misconception of fact under Section 28. Courts might face legal challenges (even constitutional questions) about whether the separate offence is superfluous or causes unjust disparity. In the meantime, judges will likely continue developing jury-like standards: considering intent, relationship history, reasonableness of promises, the effect of alcohol or drugs, and so on, as factors in bail and at trial.
Conclusion
The Himachal Pradesh High Court’s grant of bail in this case reflects the tension between safeguarding liberty and acknowledging modern complexities in sexual relationships. It reaffirms the age-old rule that an accused should not be punished before conviction, especially when the evidence is still sketchy. At the same time, it implicitly warns that false-rape allegations – if any – will be scrutinised. The case highlights the need for clear legal standards for consent in the digital age: India’s new laws attempt to address this (by introducing a specific offence for promises to marry), but how they will be applied remains to be seen.
For now, judges and police must carefully navigate these cases. The High Court’s decision will surely be cited in future bail and quash petitions, to support accused persons and taunt complainants. It underscores that every claim of “rape on false promise” must be tested against objective facts, not just allegations. As Indian law evolves (through BNS and further judicial guidance), it should strive to balance two imperatives: protecting women from real exploitation, while ensuring that genuine relationships and single mistakes are not indiscriminately criminalised.
About the Author
Ruhan Deb is a third-year law student at Symbiosis Law School, Noida. He is keenly interested in litigation, focusing on Criminal Law and Competition Law. Beyond the legal realm, Ruhan is passionate about global politics and history, complementing his analytical approach to legal studies. His multidisciplinary interests reflect a commitment to understanding law in broader social and geopolitical contexts.