My Body My Right

My Body, My Right: Bodily Autonomy in India

The Indian judiciary has consistently emphasized that liberty is not confined to the absence of restraint, but includes the freedom to make choices that define one’s identity and dignity. In Justice K.S. Puttaswamy v. Union of India (2017)¹, the Supreme Court described privacy as intrinsic to life and liberty under Article 21, covering bodily autonomy and decisional freedom. Earlier, in Common Cause v. Union of India (2018)², the Court held that even the right to die with dignity forms part of constitutional liberty. These judgments underscore the broader principle of “My Body, My Right”—that every individual is the ultimate decision-maker regarding their own body, subject only to minimal state regulation. Yet, the tension between personal freedom and societal or legal restrictions continues to shape the debate on bodily rights in India.

The principle of “My Body, My Right” is deeply grounded in the concepts of personal autonomy, bodily integrity, the right to life and personal liberty under Article 21, and the right to privacy. Even in the absence of specific statutory recognition, certain practices—such as marital rape—stand out as a diabolic infringement on bodily autonomy. Though not yet criminalized in India, there is hope that, as with the Vishaka v. State of Rajasthan (1997)³ Guidelines on sexual harassment, the legislature will one day enact laws to protect women from such violations.

Historically, abortion and medical termination of pregnancy were regarded as heinous, barbaric acts, equated with murder. However, the evolution of law, particularly the Medical Termination of Pregnancy Act, 1971 (as amended in 2021)⁴, acknowledges a woman’s right to make reproductive choices over her own body. To compel a woman to carry a pregnancy against her will is to deny her autonomy and dignity.

This article seeks to explore this new horizon of bodily rights, a dimension often neglected in mainstream legal discourse, but central to the ideals of freedom, equality, and human dignity.

Bodily Modifications: The Thin Line Between Autonomy and Criminality

Modifications to the human body are widely accepted, legally permitted, and commonly practiced across the country—such as cosmetic surgeries, piercings, and tattoos. However, there exists a legal threshold beyond which certain bodily modifications are restricted and even criminalized. While there is no single explicit statute prohibiting such procedures, the Medical Council of India Regulations, 2002⁵ (framed under the Indian Medical Council Act, 1956, now overseen by the National Medical Commission) provide that every medical practitioner must ensure that procedures conform to accepted standards of medical ethics and safety. Using this framework, many doctors refuse to perform certain modification surgeries, citing the absence of recognized medical justification. This denial, however, often results in the infringement of a person’s fundamental right over their own body.

It is true that some modifications may affect a person’s appearance or physiological functions, but the core question remains—who has the authority to restrict an individual’s choice over their body when the act is consensual and does not harm others? In effect, the law recognizes one’s autonomy in external expressions such as clothing, accessories, and hairstyles. Yet, when the same autonomy extends to more permanent or unconventional choices—for example, a consensual body implant sewn into the skin—the law labels it a criminal offence.

In a recent incident in Trichy (Tamil Nadu, 2018)⁶, a man underwent a tongue-splitting surgery, considered an “extreme modification.” Both the individual and the practitioner were arrested under Sections 326 (voluntarily causing grievous hurt by dangerous weapons) and 336 IPC (act endangering life or personal safety of others)⁷. The irony here lies in the fact that no third party was harmed; the procedure was consensual, yet legal medical practitioners refused the surgery, pushing the individual towards an unlicensed operator. This black-market route exposes individuals to unhygienic environments, post-operative complications, and long-term health risks.

A striking parallel can be drawn to the history of abortion in India. Before the Medical Termination of Pregnancy Act, 1971, abortion was criminalized under Section 312 IPC⁸, forcing women to resort to unsafe and illegal methods—leading to high maternal mortality. Only after legislative recognition did reproductive autonomy receive its legal space. Similarly, what is now termed “extreme modification” mirrors the same conflict between bodily autonomy and state paternalism.

Globally, countries like the USA have allowed a broader scope for bodily autonomy, including certain extreme modifications, provided they are conducted with informed consent and under safe conditions⁹. Even within India, procedures once considered objectionable—such as sex reassignment surgeries or even sterilization—were initially denied on paternalistic grounds that the patient “might regret it in the future.” Such reasoning hardly qualifies as a justification for denying fundamental autonomy.

Interestingly, the Bharatiya Nyaya Sanhita, 2023¹⁰, while continuing to criminalize abetment to suicide, does not criminalize the mere attempt to commit suicide, thus implicitly recognizing that a person’s relationship with their own body cannot always be subjected to penal consequences. If the law itself acknowledges that individuals cannot be punished for self-inflicted harm, the refusal to recognize their right to voluntary bodily modifications appears inconsistent.

In a modern society where individuals are striving to overcome prejudices, stereotypes, and societal judgments, the principle of “My Body, My Right” must be given its rightful place in law and policy. Citizens who contribute as taxpayers, voters, and equal stakeholders in democracy cannot be denied the autonomy to live authentically and make decisions about their own bodies. While reasonable regulation may be necessary to prevent exploitation or grave harm, outright prohibition of consensual choices only drives people into unsafe alternatives, as history with abortion clearly shows. It is time for Indian law to move beyond paternalism and embrace a more progressive, rights-based framework—one that truly respects dignity, freedom, and equality by recognizing that ownership of the body rests with none other than the individual.