In New Delhi at Jantar Mantar on Sunday, 20th April, citizens gathered in rising anger and urgency. Posters of limping dogs, pictures of mangled bodies and a word many couldn’t even say aloud, rape — hung on placards held by people whose only demand was this: treat animals like lives, not pests.
The trigger: the horrifying rape of 13 stray dogs across the city, including one case where a man, identified as Naushad, was caught on video sexually assaulting a dog. The footage, widely shared on X, shows locals confronting him, asking, “How many dogs did you rape?” as he is handed over to the police.
The accused was reportedly working with an animal NGO as a supplier. The same NGO filed the complaint against him. Police have confirmed the arrest, and the investigation is ongoing. Activists allege this was not a one-off act. At least 12 to 13 female dogs were targeted by the same man.
The city has seen many protests but this one, under the themes ‘Right to Co-Exist’ and 'Delhi Rising', came from a place of raw grief. The recent rape of thirteen stray dogs in Delhi has torn through what remains of humanity in our cities. This is not an isolated crime. Also, it is for the first time that people from animal welfare goups and environmental organisations had gathered in solidarity to raise alarm on climate issues and how people and animals are being impacted by it.
This protest was a reckoning — a demand for respect, resources and recognition for animals that have been ignored, mutilated, relocated or killed in silence. This is about systemic failure. “They say dogs are being relocated for safety. But if you visit the spots, dogs are gone without explanation,” said a core organiser. “We’ve come here to say, relocation is not a solution. It’s an excuse. We want sterilisation, not disappearance.”
From lawyers and feeders to schoolchildren, activists and retired bureaucrats, the gathering saw faces that rarely share a space.
People who feed strays spoke of threats, beatings and harassment. Others described how poisoned food was found near feeding spots. The testimonies were quiet, but their weight was impossible to ignore.
There was no sloganeering. Just the truth — ugly, painful and real. Photos, videos, FIRs and accounts of horrific abuse made it clear that Delhi has failed its animals. Strays are raped and killed. Cows rot in garbage-laden gaushalas. Birds die from hunger during heatwaves. Wild animals are vanishing from city forests where cement is replacing trees.
The protest called for clear, immediate action: a 24x7 animal ambulance system, CCTV cameras in all gaushalas, fully functional veterinary hospitals and effective sterilisation drives.
It also demanded protection for animal feeders, many of whom face violence and intimidation daily. These are not luxuries. They are basic necessities in any society that claims to be humane.
“Pehli roti gaay mata ki, aakhri roti kutte ki”- once a living truth of Indian homes, is being forgotten in a city where caring for dogs invites abuse. Today, people are afraid to feed them. Dogs are being picked up, thrown, mutilated and burnt. Stray puppies vanish overnight. Pet dogs are beaten in public. It feels like Delhi has declared open war on dogs — jo dikhega, maar diya jaayega.
This reporter has covered enough ground to know when a protest is staged and when it comes from a place of lived truth. What happened at Jantar Mantar was the latter. Delhi can no longer afford to be a city that turns away.
The harsh truth is that cruelty is not the exception, it is becoming the norm. And if we need a protest to remind ourselves that raping a dog is unacceptable, the damage runs deeper than we admit.
A WhatsApp group named Pashu Premi Mewar Seva, led by activist Jyoti. The team coordinates rescues without government help 10 to 15 daily, often involving abandoned calves, wounded dogs and birds in distress. They came not to beg for kindness, but to demand accountability. Participants also raised alarms about the growing heatwave and lack of animal infrastructure.
There are 77 government veterinary hospitals in Delhi. Most lack even basic facilities — no x-rays, no ultrasounds, no night care. Animals hit by vehicles are left to die. Gaushalas are overrun. Over 20,000 new calves are abandoned each year. Where should they go?
Protesters insisted that ecological protection and animal welfare must be central to Delhi’s urban planning, not afterthoughts. This was not a political show of strength. It was survival
speaking.
The people who gathered did not come for headlines. They came because they could not remain silent. Delhi can no longer afford to be a city that turns away. The cruelty is not a rare horror — it is a daily reality.
And here lies the darkest irony of our times: it wasn’t until thirteen voiceless beings were brutalised that the city found its voice. Not because they barked, but because they bled.
The protest was not a demand for mercy; it was a cry for justice in a place where life without language is treated as life without worth.
If we needed banners to remind us that raping a dog is wrong, it’s not just our laws that are broken. It’s us. We are the emergency. And this time, silence is not just complicity — its cruelty.
The organiser, Tannuja Chauhan, an environmental activist with the Greenpeace Delhi Rising campaign, said, “We are losing our city’s lungs, its trees, wetlands and forests. These are not luxuries; they’re life-saving infrastructures. The heat isn’t random; it’s a symptom of environmental failure.”