![]() And God forbid if there’s a disparity, because that means Mahesh uncle needs to start from scratch. Now, this step is so crucial, that some Mummyjis I know also source the potential dulha/dulhan’s family-owned business’ balance sheet from the RTO to confirm their net worth. He then painstakingly matches slabs within the portfolios he has under his roster. Firstly, he is given a spectrum that itself may seem vague, because folks in my hood say, “Humein teen ka rishta dikhao,” which translates to “Show us a match for three,” or Rs 3crores is the total amount to be spent at the wedding. I mean, so many years later, I alone have not been able to meet the ladke waalo’s criteria, and poor Mahesh uncle (name changed for anonymity) has to pacify both ends. Objectively speaking, I do understand their plight too. Needless to say, by one point, they’re far more pushy, domineering and (straight-up) annoying than any jaded bua/mausi could ever be. And the broker - who charges a one per cent commission on the total amount spent - has the potential of cashing out big, if everything works out. ![]() A regular wedding in my community could cost anything between Rs 3and 5 crore on an average. But did you really think marriages between families that have crores of business, Bentleys and Gucci belts at stake, were that simple? Nope. If that goes well, the matter progresses or it doesn’t. At the outset, it seems simple enough - you have a marriage broker who matches portfolios and if both parties show interest, they meet. To begin with, we’ll have to understand how this works. It’s like finding comedy in a tragedy, or being grateful for alternatives to sugar available alongside a cup of terrible coffee. And through all the pain, anger and (sometimes) humiliation, I have to say, I’ve also had fun. I have been through 37 matches only to swipe (left) out of the room, but all through it with my family by my side. Mired with patriarchy, massive cultural hang-ups, anachronistic values, age-old misogyny and utter disregard for the girl’s wishes (in most cases), this is a system that is as daunting as it is amusing, though the latter only because I am lucky. But the business of weddings within my community is so perilous, one close look and it could put even Sima Taparia to shame. For a young 20-something with the twinkle of ambition in her eyes, it felt insulting - no, belittling - to be treated like a family heirloom pashmina - washed, dried and steamed to be sent out to another home.įive years and several unsuccessful Bumble, Hinge and Tinder dates later, I have to admit that I am no longer as opposed to the idea of an arranged marriage as I was back then it’s just another conduit to bad dates, for all I care. It’s shocking even to me how clearly I remember the details, because truth is, I detested what was happening. Then, I slipped into cool and funky western clothes, you know, just in case, they want a “modern” bahu. I dressed up in flowy, embellished kurtas and gorgeous yards of traditional Indian wear.
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