A man claimed he was his son. The Supreme Court ordered a DNA test.

He said he was his biological son. The father refused a DNA test. The Supreme Court ruled—

For decades, Narayan Dutt Tiwari had denied it. The former Chief Minister of Uttar Pradesh, a man who had held power at the highest levels of Indian politics, insisted that Rohit Shekhar was not his son. Rohit, a young man from Delhi, had grown up hearing a different story—that his mother had a relationship with Tiwari, that the man who governed millions was his biological father. When Tiwari refused to acknowledge him, Rohit did what the law allows: he went to court.

The case that followed—Rohit Shekhar v. Narayan Dutt Tiwari & Anr.—was never just about one man's claim. It became a legal landmark because it forced the Supreme Court to answer a question that modern science had made unavoidable: when a DNA test says one thing and every other form of evidence says something else, which one does the law trust?

When the father said no

Rohit Shekhar was born in 1979. His mother, Ujjwala Sharma, had been in a relationship with Narayan Dutt Tiwari, a prominent Congress leader who later became the Chief Minister of Uttarakhand. For years, Rohit lived with the knowledge that his biological father was a public figure who refused to acknowledge him. In 2008, he filed a paternity suit in the Delhi High Court, asking the court to declare Tiwari his biological father.

Tiwari resisted. He denied the relationship entirely. He refused to undergo a DNA test—a standard procedure in paternity disputes where a sample of blood or saliva is compared between the alleged father and the child to establish biological links with near-certain accuracy. The Delhi High Court, after hearing both sides, ordered Tiwari to provide a blood sample for testing. Tiwari appealed to the Supreme Court.

The question before the Supreme Court was not whether Tiwari was actually the father. That was a factual question the DNA test would answer. The question was legal and procedural: could a court force a man to submit to a DNA test against his will, especially when the consequences—legal, social, political—were so severe?

The argument against certainty

Tiwari's lawyers argued that a DNA test was an invasion of bodily integrity—a violation of his fundamental right to privacy. They said that paternity could be established through other evidence: witness testimony, documents, photographs, the conduct of the parties. Why, they asked, should the law force a man to give his blood when the case could be decided on the basis of what people said and did?

Rohit's lawyers countered with a simpler argument. They said that DNA testing had reached a level of scientific reliability that no other form of evidence could match. In paternity cases, a DNA test could establish biological fatherhood with a probability of 99.99% or higher. Why, they asked, should the court rely on the fallible memory of witnesses when science offered something close to certainty?

The Supreme Court had to choose between two visions of evidence. One was rooted in the traditional system—witnesses, documents, circumstantial proof—where truth emerged from the clash of competing stories. The other was rooted in the laboratory—a test that did not lie, did not forget, and did not have political loyalties.

What the court saw in the science

The bench that heard the case did something unusual. It did not simply rule on the procedural question of whether Tiwari could be forced to give blood. It went deeper. It examined what DNA evidence actually meant—how reliable it was, and what it should mean for the way courts decide paternity cases.

The court observed that the ability of experts to link a person to a crime scene or a child to a father through DNA was "unquestionable." It said that DNA tests provided what could "practically be regarded as certainty in paternity cases." This was not a casual remark. It was a judicial finding that DNA evidence had crossed a threshold—from being one piece of evidence among many to being the evidence that, when available, should carry the most weight.

The court then laid down a principle that would guide future cases. It said that when there is a conflict between eye evidence (what a witness claims to have seen or known) and medical evidence (what a scientific test reveals), the court must "go by the evidence which inspires more confidence." In paternity disputes, where DNA testing offers near-certainty, the medical evidence would almost always inspire more confidence than a witness's memory or a party's denial.

Why the presumption collapsed

The court also addressed a deeper legal question. Under Section 112 of the Indian Evidence Act, there is a legal presumption (a rule that the court must accept as true unless proven otherwise) that a child born during a marriage is the child of the husband. This presumption was designed to protect the legitimacy of children and the stability of families. But the court noted that this presumption was not absolute—it could be rebutted (overturned) by evidence to the contrary.

What kind of evidence could rebut it? The court said that DNA evidence, given its near-certain reliability, was precisely the kind of evidence that could displace the legal presumption. In other words, if a DNA test showed that the husband was not the biological father, the court could set aside the presumption and declare the truth.

This was a significant shift. For decades, the presumption under Section 112 had been treated as almost impossible to overcome. The court was now saying that science had changed the game. A DNA test was not just another piece of evidence—it was the kind of evidence that could overturn a legal rule designed to protect family legitimacy.

The order and its aftermath

The Supreme Court upheld the Delhi High Court's order. Narayan Dutt Tiwari was directed to provide a blood sample for DNA testing. He complied. The test results, when they came, confirmed what Rohit Shekhar had always claimed: Tiwari was his biological father.

The case did not end there. Tiwari's lawyers attempted to challenge the DNA results, arguing that the sample may have been contaminated or mishandled. But the court had already established its position: DNA evidence, when properly collected and tested, carried a weight that other evidence could not match. The challenge failed.

Rohit Shekhar, after years of legal battle, received the declaration he had sought. He was, in the eyes of the law, the son of Narayan Dutt Tiwari.

What this means for every paternity case

The Rohit Shekhar judgment did not invent a new rule. It clarified an existing one. The Evidence Act already allowed medical evidence to override witness testimony. What the Supreme Court did was to recognize that DNA testing had reached a level of reliability where it was no longer just one option among many—it was the gold standard.

For lawyers and litigants, the message is clear. In paternity disputes, a refusal to undergo a DNA test is no longer a viable defence. The court can order the test, and if the party refuses, the court may draw an adverse inference (assume that the refusal is because the test would confirm paternity). The days of relying on witness testimony to defeat a DNA claim are over.

For the legal system, the case marked a moment when the law acknowledged that some forms of evidence are so reliable that they change the burden of proof. The party denying paternity can no longer simply say "prove it." They must submit to the test, or face the consequences of their refusal.

THE PLAY: In any paternity dispute, if your client refuses a DNA test, the court can order one—and if the result contradicts your client's position, the near-certainty of DNA evidence will almost certainly override any witness testimony or legal presumption.

The man who had denied his son for decades was finally forced to face the truth—not because a witness said so, but because a laboratory test left no room for doubt.