India has long prided itself on its hospitality, ingrained in the ancient principle of Atithi Devo Bhava—“The guest is God.” It is a sentiment woven into our cultural fabric, repeated in government campaigns and echoed in the words of those who seek to showcase India’s warmth to the world. But what does it mean when a guest in our land is brutalized instead of honored? What does it say about our nation when the very people we invite to experience our history and heritage leave with scars instead of memories?
The recent incident near Hampi in Karnataka is more than just a horrific crime—it is a national disgrace. A 27-year-old Israeli tourist and a 29-year-old Indian homestay owner were gang-raped while their male companions were beaten and thrown into a canal, leading to the tragic death of one of them. This was not just an act of violence against two women; it was an attack on the dignity of a nation that claims to welcome the world with open arms.
Hampi, a UNESCO World Heritage Site, draws travelers from across the globe who come to witness its rich history and architectural wonders. It is a place that symbolizes India’s cultural grandeur, a reminder of our glorious past. Yet, today, it is tainted by the horrifying brutality that unfolded near its serene landscapes.
The victims—two women and three men from Odisha, the US, and Maharashtra—were simply enjoying an evening of stargazing by the Tungabhadra Canal, playing music and taking in the beauty of the night sky. But their peace was shattered when they were ambushed, assaulted, and thrown into a nightmare they will never forget.
For the Israeli woman, India was likely a place of fascination, a land she had traveled to with curiosity and trust. That trust was shattered in the most inhumane way possible. She came to a country that speaks of spirituality, tradition, and respect, only to experience the worst kind of cruelty. And for the Indian homestay owner, the betrayal runs even deeper—her own homeland, the place she called home, became the site of her worst nightmare.
India has long struggled with the shadow of crimes against women. While we try to present ourselves as a progressive, rapidly developing nation, incidents like this drag us back into the depths of shame and global condemnation. Each time a foreign tourist is attacked in our country, the world takes notice.
The irony is painful—on one hand, India invests heavily in tourism, promoting its rich cultural heritage, its stunning landscapes, and its spiritual retreats. On the other, such crimes make it impossible for any visitor, especially women, to feel truly safe here. What good is our ancient wisdom, our monuments, or our hospitality if we cannot even ensure the basic safety of those who come seeking them?
Every attack like this sends a chilling message: that behind the facade of cultural pride and historical marvels, there lies a country where women—Indian and foreign alike—remain vulnerable to the worst kinds of brutality in some places. It tells the world that in India, even a peaceful night under the stars can turn into an unspeakable horror.
This is not just a crime; it is a deep, humiliating wound on India’s conscience. It should make every citizen hang their head in shame. It should force us to question what kind of nation we have become, where the most sacred duty—to protect our guests—has been so heinously violated.
This is not just about the victims of this one crime. It is about the countless women who live in fear every day. It is about the thousands of tourists who reconsider their plans to visit India. It is about the shame that stains our national identity every time a woman is raped in our country.
We cannot continue to hide behind empty slogans. Atithi Devo Bhava means nothing if we cannot ensure that a guest in our land is treated with respect and dignity. It is not enough to boast about our hospitality when the reality tells a different story—one of fear, violence, and betrayal.
India, with all its grand history, its cultural richness, and its global ambitions, must reckon with this truth: as long as women, whether Indian or foreign, are not safe in our country, we have failed. And failure, in this case, is not just a statistic. It is a deep, enduring national shame that no amount of development or progress can erase.
