Neeru Zinzuwadia Adesara has spent years navigating the intense demands of Indian newsrooms and the corporate circles where women routinely work late hours. When scandals erupt — as they have recently with Tata Consultancy Services — she brings a journalist’s measured eye to questions that many prefer to frame in absolutes. Speaking honestly, she does not see cases like the one now under scrutiny at TCS as either completely rare or alarmingly universal. “The truth sits somewhere in between,” she observes, “and that’s what makes it uncomfortable.”
Big-name companies like TCS attract intense focus because of their scale, reputation, and the public scrutiny they invite. Yet what truly concerns Adesara is what remains hidden: smaller firms, vendors, and startups where complaints rarely escape a closed-door meeting. In many workplaces, she notes, order is maintained not by robust safety mechanisms but by silence. The real story, therefore, extends beyond women’s safety alone. It is a test of how accountable corporate systems prove to be when problems surface.
When multiple complaints accumulate over years, it becomes difficult to dismiss the matter as an isolated incident. Instead, it points to something more systemic — a failure of the very processes designed to intervene early and prevent escalation. Basic questions inevitably follow: “Why didn’t internal mechanisms such as the POSH (Prevention of Sexual Harassment) framework act in time? Were complaints taken seriously, or quietly set aside? Did protecting the organisation’s image matter more than addressing the problem?”
What makes such episodes particularly unsettling is that companies like TCS symbolise aspiration for millions of middle class families. For many young professionals, a role there represents stability, respect and the sense of having “made it.” When trust in that promise is shaken, the ripple effects extend far beyond one organisation. Across metros and smaller towns alike, thousands of young women enter workplaces carrying the same expectations. In many cases, systems function as intended. In others, they exist more on paper than in practice. When that gap appears, employees often do not know where to turn — or, worse, they choose silence because the personal cost of speaking up feels too steep.
“The difficult truth,” Adesara says, “is that not every story surfaces. Many remain buried beneath fear, hesitation or the simple absence of a fair process. And that, more than any single headline, is the core concern.”
Women’s Safety in Corporate India: An Unfinished Project
Having reported on Indian industry for more than two decades and held countless off-the-record conversations with CEOs, HR heads, managers and employees, Adesara speaks with conviction: women’s safety in corporate India remains an unfinished project, not a solved one. When a respected giant like TCS finds itself at the centre of a scandal involving Islamist employees systematically targeting vulnerable Hindu women, the instinctive corporate response is often to label it an aberration — an “unfortunate exception” in an otherwise compliant system. Her journalistic instinct, however, urges caution against that comforting narrative.
Is There a Sense of Fear Among Women Employees?
Fear does exist, Adesara acknowledges, but it is rarely loud or dramatic. It is quiet, woven into everyday decisions. “Most women in corporate India are not paralysed by dread; they lead teams, meet deadlines, negotiate salaries and deliver results. Yet a background awareness persists — one that many men never need to consider.”
It manifests in small, practical ways: thinking twice before staying late, approaching informal meetings or off-sites with caution, letting certain comments pass to avoid being labelled “difficult,” or choosing not to escalate issues when the person involved holds seniority or influence. Beneath these calculations lies a harder question many women ask themselves before speaking up: “Will this fix the problem, or will it quietly end my career?”
The mere existence of that question reveals how far the system still has to go. Incidents like the current one generate concern among employees and the families who entrust them to these workplaces. Yet fear is not the only outcome. Greater awareness follows. Women today are more informed about their rights, better connected, and more prepared to question what feels wrong. Perceptions shift. Trust, however, takes the hardest hit — trust in HR systems, in leadership, and in the promise that speaking up will produce meaningful action.
Rebuilding that trust is no small task. It demands more than polished policies. Companies must demonstrate, consistently and even when it is uncomfortable, that they will act decisively. At the same time, Adesara sees women becoming more alert, more proactive, and more prepared. “They are not withdrawing from the workplace; they are adapting to it with eyes wide open.”
How Can Women Stay Safe in the Workplace?
Strip the question to its essentials, Adesara argues, and the issue is not how individual women should stay safe. The more fundamental question is why safety still depends so heavily on personal vigilance in professional environments. In an ideal world, safety would be engineered into the system itself. Reality, however, is more complex.
Across industries, what surfaces is not panic but a practised, quiet awareness. Women read situations quickly, assess people, weigh consequences, and adapt. They keep track of conversations, pay close attention to how internal processes actually operate rather than what policy documents promise, and build circles of trusted colleagues because facing difficulties alone is harder. None of this is ideal. It is simply how people navigate environments where systems do not always inspire full confidence.
Hesitation is another under-discussed reality. Women often recognise wrongdoing clearly, yet they also understand the ecosystem — hierarchies, influence, informal networks — that shapes how complaints are received and resolved. The decision to speak up is rarely black and white; it involves timing, potential repercussions, and an honest assessment of whether change will actually occur.
Responsibility, therefore, rests squarely with organisations. Credibility requires more than language in handbooks. It demands consistent application of rules, especially when the situation is awkward or implicates powerful individuals. Until people believe the system will stand by them in practice — not merely on paper — personal caution will remain a necessary backup plan. The core issue is not women’s capability or awareness. It is confidence in the system itself. When that confidence exists, behaviour changes. When it does not, silence becomes the safer choice.
Final Word
TCS is neither the villain nor the lone outlier in Adesara’s view. It is a mirror, reflecting both the genuine progress India’s corporate sector has made and the persistent failures that remain. “Women are not afraid of work,” she stresses. “They are afraid of being unheard. In a country that aspires to global economic leadership, that fear should concern us far more than any single headline.”
Neeru Zinzuwadia Adesara is Executive Editor, TV9 Gujarati News. This article is based on extracts from an interview given to VHP America's Hindudvesha website. She can be contacted at neeru.zinzuwadia@tv9.com. |
