From Nirbhaya to Ankita Bhandari: candlelight protests, police detentions and the right to demand justice

A post shared on Instagram on 18 October 2026 makes a pointed comparison: candlelight marches became a symbol of solidarity after the 2012 Nirbhaya gang rape, yet people seeking answers about Ankita Bhandari’s murder in 2026 have faced police restrictions and detention. The image expresses the anger of those who see a contradiction between celebrating public demands for justice and restricting protesters. The comparison has a factual basis, but the history is more complicated than a claim that marches were allowed then and forbidden now.

What happened to Ankita Bhandari’s protesters?

Ankita Bhandari was a 19-year-old employee at a Uttarakhand resort who was killed in September 2022. On 30 May 2025, a Kotdwar court sentenced resort owner Pulkit Arya and two employees, Saurabh Bhaskar and Ankit Gupta, to life imprisonment for her murder. Those convictions are an important result of the criminal trial. Her family has continued to demand answers about an alleged influential guest, often called the ‘VIP’, whose possible role it wants investigated separately.

On 14–15 October 2026, her parents joined a sit-in near India Gate in Delhi, objecting to Dushyant Kumar Gautam’s appointment as Sikkim Governor while a CBI inquiry into the disputed ‘VIP’ allegations remained under way. Police detained the parents and other protesters in the early hours of 15 October; they were subsequently released. Gautam denies involvement in the case. Neither the family’s allegation nor the fact of a continuing inquiry proves wrongdoing by him.

On 18 October, another group of protesters from Uttarakhand was stopped near India Gate while trying to march towards Rashtrapati Bhavan. The Tribune reported that Delhi Police invoked Section 163 of the Bharatiya Nagarik Suraksha Sanhita, which permits preventive orders in specified circumstances. This is evidence of particular restrictions on particular demonstrations, not proof that all candlelight marches for Ankita have been prohibited. Indeed, public candlelight vigils for her were held across Uttarakhand at the end of 2025, and larger justice marches took place in January 2026.

Was Nirbhaya-era protest unrestricted?

No. After the December 2012 gang rape in Delhi, public marches and vigils drew large crowds and helped make violence against women a national issue. But police also used water cannon, tear gas and batons against demonstrators around India Gate and Raisina Hill. In a March 2013 parliamentary reply, the Union government defended those measures by alleging that parts of the crowd had broken barricades and engaged in violence. That was the government’s account of why it used force; it does not justify every police action or establish the conduct of every protester.

The sharper historical comparison is therefore not ‘protest was free in 2012 but banned in 2026’. In both periods, citizens demanded justice and police asserted public-order powers. What warrants scrutiny is whether the particular restrictions were necessary and proportionate, and whether authorities distinguished peaceful participants from anyone actually threatening safety.

What does ‘rapists are garlanded’ refer to?

The Instagram image also invokes the public celebration of people convicted of sexual violence. A documented example is the 2022 release of the 11 men convicted in the Bilkis Bano gang-rape and murder case. News reports recorded that released convicts were welcomed with sweets and garlands. On 8 January 2024, the Supreme Court set aside the Gujarat government’s remission orders and required their return to prison. That episode was real and the celebration of people convicted of such grave crimes was morally indefensible. It was a separate case; it does not prove that a suspect in Ankita Bhandari’s case was garlanded, or that anyone accused in her case is guilty without evidence.

Where public-order powers meet a family’s demand for answers

Police have a responsibility to prevent violence and manage access to sensitive sites. Authorities may impose lawful, specific and proportionate limits where there is a genuine threat. But disagreement with protesters, political embarrassment or the mere persistence of a grieving family does not justify suppressing peaceful expression. Under the principles of free speech and peaceful assembly, restrictions require reasons that can withstand scrutiny, not simply an official assertion of public order.

In this instance the October 2026 detentions and restrictions are established; a complete account of individual police decisions and alternative arrangements has not been established by the reporting examined. That limit matters. Yet detaining bereaved parents during their justice protest is a serious exercise of state power that requires a concrete and convincing explanation. The continued, peaceful right to ask whether the ‘VIP’ allegation was thoroughly examined is distinct from treating any named person as guilty.

The Instagram comparison is strongest as a demand for consistent treatment of survivors’ families and peaceful protesters, rather than as a literal account of two wholly different eras. Ankita’s killers were convicted, but the family’s separate questions and its ability to raise them publicly remain important. Justice is not served by glorifying convicted offenders or by silencing lawful demands for answers; neither can untested accusations replace a fair investigation.