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Arranged Marriage
By Shobhaa Dé
The young man I’ve just been introduced to at a hip nightclub called Privé in Mumbai, is looking particularly forlorn, as he digs his hands into the front pockets of his designer jeans. He is 36 and single. With an MBA degree from Wharton and a great career as an investment banker, Navin, who is tall, trendy and good-looking, should be the biggest catch in town. But he has no date on Valentines’ Day and is considering speed-dating as an option. That’s how desperate he is. Marriage? “I leave that to mummy,” he says, without the slightest embarrassment. His mother lives in distant Chennai and is determined to find the “right match” for her beloved son. Which loosely translated means: a girl who is from their particular caste, and more importantly, sub-caste. Ideally, she has to be ten years younger (“Because women age faster”), and an accomplished dancer/musician who can cook and keep a clean home.Being an untouched virgin would be an additional bonus… In fact, a girl who’s not all that different from mummy herself.
I asked Navin how he could leave such a key, life-altering decision to his mother. “Because I trust her…I trust her judgement. And who knows the real me better than her? She will choose a partner, knowing my strengths, but more importantly, knowing my weaknesses.” Like Navin, there are thousands of young Indian men who are falling back on an age-old tradition – the arranged marriage. These men are urban, educated, sophisticated and very much the guys of today. And yet, they’ve accepted the rather sad fact that meeting eligible women, even in post-liberalised, global India, is far more difficult than imagined. Besides, a lot of financially empowered women are in the enviable position of saying “No” to interested men, simply because, for the first time in India’s 5000-year-old history – they can! This is a dramatic social shift that traditional families are finding hard to adjust to. The “new”, “improved” arranged marriage, isn’t anything like its old version. Let me give you an example. When my father married my mother, she was 17 and just out of high school. The family elders had decided on the alliance after consulting astrologers and members of the community. The only time the young couple saw each other before the marriage ceremony was at a grand-uncle’s home, in the presence of over 25 people. Since it was considered inappropriate for the bride-to-be to look directly at her future husband, my mother’s gaze remained downcast through- out the meeting. The “approval” was entirely unilateral and one-sided. Had my father not liked my mother’s appearance, he would’ve rejected the match and conveyed the decision to my mother’s family within 48-hours (that continues to be the cut-off point till today). The question of my mother not liking my father, did not arise. If he liked her, the marriage was on. That’s it! Fortunately for both of them (and us, their four children), they both liked one another and remained very happily married for the next 60 years. but not all alliances have such a happy ending. Not then. Not today. So, why does this custom endure? And how come so many young people in the 21st century continue to opt for this route to holy matrimony?
Like I said, today’s version is far more accommodating and flexible. It does not involve coercion of any kind. At least, not in urban India. Families decide through consensus that it is time to get their children married. Helpful friends are contacted and the word is spread. Someone always knows someone whose son/daughter fits the bill. Once the party is unidentified, a common source is requested to set up an informal meeting. Generally, round one takes place at a neutral venue, perhaps the home of the common source. Traditionally, it’s a “tea meeting,” at around 5 p.m, when the boy and girl arrive, often accompanied by parents, siblings, even cousins. The air is formal but not stiff. The boy is dressed like he’s going to a business meeting (suit and tie), whereas the girl sticks to a traditional saree or a salwar-kameez (tunic with loose pants). They are encouraged to talk in group conversation that is studiedly impersonal (weather, politics, movies, music). Once the ice is broken, a family elder discreetly escorts all others to an adjoining garden or salon. The two young people are finally alone to speak without intrusive supervision. This interaction can last for no more than half-an-hour. The farewells are swift and non-committal. The person in-between assures both parties that the decision shall be communicated within two days. And it is. Both the girl and the boy are entirely free to voice their honest opinion. If interest levels are sufficiently high from their sides, another meeting is immediately fixed – this time in a restaurant. It is optional whether or not to take companions along. The second meeting is key, for it is more or less the deciding one. The couple is expected to commit after this point. Yay or nay. If “yay”, then the date for the formal engagement is announced to the community and wedding preparations get underway immediately. A “nay” is accepted in the same spirit, and the two people begin their search for a suitable match all over again.
Personally, I believe in this strange, yet practical system, even though I haven’t indulged in it so far, despite having five children of a marriageable age. I am open to it, because I believe it works! My two sons are both single and in their thirties. They’ve dated any number of attractive girls, but have failed to find brides. It has turned into a bit of a family joke, as they boys mock-plead with me to hunt for wives for them. Believe me, I’m very kicked at the idea of launching such a bride-hunt. I do keep my eyes and ears open when I spot a charming young woman at a party. But so far, no luck. Like my sons, their college/office friends are also stuck in similar situations, lamenting the fact that they just haven’t found the woman of their dreams. I tell them not to despair. It’s a world-wide phenomenon. In fact, I often joke that since India is so good at out-sourcing, maybe we should out-source our arranged marriage formula and service, too. There are countless marriage portals and sites that perform the same role electronically, as old-fashioned marriage brokers,who have now stared charging fat fees. Most of our mass-circulated dailies make maximum money from classifield ads advertising brides and grooms. These “matrimonials” provide an excellent insight into a rapidly-changing society. Today’s bridegrooms all want “educated, working women.” In the old days, the requirement rarely went beyond, “homely, well-behaved, docile,virgin of fair complexion.” One would think today’s empowered, educated girls would shun being slotted in this manner, or resist the social pressure involved in “getting hitched” before hitting 30. but that’s not so. Even the smart, attractive women one sees drinking Cosmos in swish lounge-bars, declare without embarrassment that they’re open to the idea of arranged marriage, provided there’s an exit route.
Divorce rates have been going up during the past 10 years. Even the modern “love marriage”, in which the partners choose each other, is as likely to fall apart as the more conventional arranged marriage. Young people recognise this and shrug, “Either way it is a risk…. So why not leave it to parents?’’ They may be right. With divorce gaining better social acceptance, couples no longer look at a bad marriage as a life sentence that has to be endured.Women , in particular, are more comfortable with the idea that they aren’t stuck forever with a partner they might have outgrown.
That’s what men are saying, too. Men like Sunny, with a pony-tail, who works for his father and is seen as a good-looking successful entrepreneur. His parents are my neighbours and each time we meet in the elevator, our conversation automatically goes to the one topic that’s uppermost on our minds, “Have you found someone for your son…?” It’s come to a point where we’ve started to share info and create our own date base. If I do come across someone more suited to Sunny, I pass on the details and vice-versa. Its a lot of fun actually. We all joke about our sons’ sad lives and feel slightly smug about our own marital status. We conveniently blame it on the hectic times we live in. “It’s the stress of modern life – poor fellows, where is the time to fall in love?” we conclude. But the truth is, it isn’t about pace, stress or time. It’s about changed expectations. Women in India (like their counterparts, world wide) want more, demand more. They will not settle for second best. Men in Asian societies are not used to rejection. For centuries they’ve been told the world belongs to them –as do the women of the world. All they have to do, is click their fingers and point. Bingo – that’s the bride. And she should be so grateful to be the “Chosen One.” Women are saying emphatically, “Dream on guys. You are definitely NOT the one.” It’s a huge cultural change. And men in India are finding it hard to swallow. Which is where mummy comes into the picture. She is now the Chief Negotiator, the main broker. And the boys are happy to leave it to her. With the break-up of the extended family, brides no longer have to dread sharing their bridegrooms with an entire brood of uncles, aunts and cousins. They know the mother-in-law is now their best ally, even friend. It is the men who are stranded and adrift. Unable to deal with the new, contemporary woman with a mind (and income!) of her own, they’re finally falling back on the one woman they trust implicitly to be on their side – mom! Long live arranged marriage! As they say in India – Shaadi Zindabad!
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