At a hospital corridor, grief does not shout.
It waits.
It sits on a plastic chair outside the ICU, staring at a closed door, hoping it will open with good news. It rarely does.
Somewhere on a Delhi road, a 23-year-old young man was planning his future abroad. Somewhere in Mumbai, a husband and wife were riding home together. Somewhere else, parents were sleeping peacefully, unaware that a phone call would split their lives into “before” and “after.”
Road accidents are common in India. Headlines move quickly. Numbers get updated. But lately, something else has begun to disturb people more than the crash itself.
It is not just speed anymore.
It is the pattern.
Minor drivers. Luxury vehicles. Previous traffic violations. Dead victims. Legal debates about age.
And one question growing louder each time:
When a life ends under powerful wheels, does justice move at the same speed?
The Son Who Never Came Back
Sahil Dhaneshra was 23. He was a final-year BBA student in Delhi. According to media reports, he had plans to pursue higher studies abroad. His family described him as focused, ambitious and responsible.
He was riding his motorcycle when an SUV allegedly driven by a 17-year-old minor without a valid driving licence collided with him. CCTV footage reportedly showed the vehicle moving at high speed before the crash. The impact was severe. Sahil suffered fatal head injuries.
The minor was apprehended and produced before the Juvenile Justice Board. Under Indian law, whether he will be tried as an adult depends on legal assessment under the Juvenile Justice Act. The law requires evaluation of mental and physical capacity before such a decision is made.
Legally, the process is structured.
Emotionally, the loss is permanent.
Sahil’s mother publicly rejected the apology of the accused’s family. She has demanded strong action. For her, this was not fate. It was not destiny. It was not “just an accident.”
It was preventable.
And that word carries weight.
Because prevention failed long before punishment began.
Nine Days of Hope That Turned Into Silence
In Mumbai’s Vidyavihar area, another case shook public confidence.
A couple was riding a scooter when a speeding SUV, allegedly driven by a 17-year-old minor, crashed into them. The husband, Dhrumil Patel, sustained critical injuries. He fought for nine days in hospital before succumbing. His wife survived but with serious injuries.
Police registered serious charges, including culpable homicide. The family demanded that the minor be tried as an adult.
Nine days is a long time. Long enough for relatives to pray. Long enough for doctors to attempt recovery. Long enough for hope to rise and collapse.
When he died, the debate did not end. It intensified.
Should age protect someone whose alleged recklessness caused death?
Or should consequence outweigh adolescence?
The law says assessment must decide.
The family says the result is already visible.
The Emerging Pattern : More Than Two Cases
These two tragedies are not isolated.
Across different states, reports continue to surface of minors driving high-powered vehicles without valid licences. In several recent cases, vehicles involved in fatal crashes reportedly had prior overspeeding violations. Some cases involve hit-and-run allegations. Others involve social media videos showing reckless driving before tragedy struck.
In multiple cities, police have registered cases against parents under provisions of the Motor Vehicles Act for allowing minors to drive. Authorities have seized vehicles. Yet enforcement often appears reactive rather than preventive.
Why are repeated violations not strong enough warning signs?
Why do vehicles with multiple challans remain on the road?
Why does intervention come only after someone dies?
These are not emotional questions. They are administrative ones.
And they demand administrative answers.
What the Law Provides : And Where It Struggles
India’s Juvenile Justice (Care and Protection of Children) Act allows minors between 16 and 18 to be tried as adults in heinous offences, but only after assessment by the Juvenile Justice Board. The system is designed to balance reform with accountability.
The Motor Vehicles Act also allows punishment of guardians if they permit underage driving. Vehicles can be confiscated. Fines and imprisonment are possible.
On paper, the structure exists.
In practice, implementation depends on investigation, prosecution strength, and judicial discretion.
Public frustration often rises not because law is absent, but because consistency feels uncertain.
When two similar tragedies appear to move at different legal speeds, trust erodes.
And without trust, even correct legal procedure looks suspicious.
When Public Outrage Forced a System to React
The Pune Porsche crash from last year still remains in public memory because it amplified everything people feared.
A 17-year-old allegedly driving a luxury Porsche hit and killed two young IT professionals. Initial bail conditions drew national outrage. Investigations later expanded to include the minor’s father and medical professionals over alleged evidence tampering. Courts intervened. Arrests were made. Bail was denied in certain connected proceedings.
The legal process became complex and high-profile.
For many citizens, this case symbolized something larger: the fear that privilege can attempt to negotiate consequences.
Even though the system eventually took strict steps, the early perception of leniency left a scar.
Perception matters.
Because justice is not only about verdicts.
It is about faith.
International Contrast : How Other Systems Respond
In the United States, when 23-year-old Indian student Jaahnavi Kandula was killed after being struck by a speeding police vehicle in Seattle, the city agreed to a settlement of approximately $29 million.
That figure, converted into Indian currency, crosses hundreds of crores.
Money does not replace a child. But the scale of compensation reflected a strong acknowledgment of institutional responsibility.
In India, motor accident compensation is usually calculated based on income, age and future earning potential. Awards vary significantly and rarely approach such levels.
This raises a difficult but necessary question:
Is compensation in India designed to restore families or merely to calculate loss of earnings?
Does our legal framework assign economic value to a life, or moral value?
And if two 23-year-olds die in different countries, why does the financial recognition of their lives differ so dramatically?
The Class Divide Nobody Wants to Admit
This issue is not simply rich versus poor. It is about access.
A daily wage driver involved in a fatal accident often faces immediate arrest, limited legal representation, and prolonged hardship.
A well-resourced family can afford experienced lawyers, manage public relations narratives, and navigate procedural complexity more effectively.
Both may face the same law.
But they do not face it from the same starting point.
The imbalance is not written in statutes.
It is visible in reality.
And that visibility creates anger.
Questions for Everyone : Not Just the Accused
To the parents:
If your child does not have a licence, why is he holding car keys?
To enforcement authorities:
Why are repeated traffic violations not triggering stronger preventive action?
To lawmakers:
Should underage driving causing death automatically qualify for adult trial consideration?
To society:
Why do we glorify teenage luxury driving on social media?
To the government:
How many deaths are required before preventive policing becomes stricter than post-death prosecution?
To ourselves:
Are we outraged consistently or only when the car brand is expensive?
These questions are not about revenge.
They are about reform.
Conclusion: The Road Remembers
Sahil’s mother still wakes up in a house that feels quieter.
Dhrumil’s wife lives with injuries that will remind her of that day forever.
The families from Pune still carry photographs of children who never returned from dinner.
Each case is different legally. But emotionally, they are identical. A life stopped. A family shattered. A debate started.
If justice appears unequal, even once, it weakens belief for everyone.
The road does not discriminate.
But society sometimes does.
And until enforcement becomes preventive, accountability becomes consistent, and every life is treated with equal seriousness; regardless of wealth, age, or influence.
We will keep asking the same question after every crash:
Who decides the price of a life?
And why does it never feel the same for everyone?
Sources
Sahil Dhaneshra Case (Delhi Minor SUV Crash)
1. Hindustan Times – Coverage on Sahil Dhaneshra’s death, CCTV footage details, and family statements.
2. NDTV – Report on postmortem findings and investigation details regarding the minor driver.
3. The New Indian Express – Report on booking of the minor’s father under the Motor Vehicles Act.
4. India.com – Statement of Sahil’s mother rejecting apology from accused’s family.
Mumbai Vidyavihar Minor Crash (Dhrumil Patel Case)
5. The Times of India – Report on minor-driven SUV hitting scooter and police adding culpable homicide charges.
6. Local Mumbai Police Coverage (TOI & other mainstream outlets) – Updates on nine-day hospital battle and death confirmation.
Pune Porsche Crash (2024 Case Reference)
7. The Indian Express – Investigation details including arrests and High Court bail decisions.
8. The Times of India – Coverage on initial bail controversy and expanded investigation.
9. Bombay High Court Proceedings (Reported by National Media) – Bail denial and related developments.
International Comparison – Jaahnavi Kandula (Seattle Case)
10. NDTV World News – Report on $29 million settlement agreed by City of Seattle.
11. The Times of India (International Section) – Coverage explaining settlement amount and wrongful death context.
12. U.S. mainstream reporting (Associated Press coverage cited in Indian outlets) – Confirmation of settlement scale and legal context.
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