ARRANGING MARRIAGE IN INDIA

Six years [after my first field trip to India] I returned to do fieldwork among the middle class in Bombay, a modern, sophisticated city. From the experience of my earlier visit, I decided to include a study of arranged marriages in my project. By this time I had met many Indian couples whose marriages had been arranged and who seemed very happy. Particularly in contrast to the fate of many of my married friends in the United States who were already in the process of divorce, the positive aspects of arranged marriages appeared to me to outweigh the negatives. In fact, I thought I might even participate in arranging a marriage myself. I had been fairly successful in the United States in “fixing up” many of my friends, and I was confident that my matchmaking skills could be easily applied to this new situation, once I learned the basic rules. “After all,” I thought, “how complicated can it be?”
An opportunity presented itself almost immediately. A friend from my previous Indian trip was in the process of arranging for the marriage of her eldest son. Since my friend’s family was eminently respectable and the boy himself personable, well educated, and nice looking, I was sure that by the end of my year’s fieldwork, we would have found a match.
The basic rule seems to be that a family’s reputation is most important. It is understood that matches would be arranged only within the same caste and general social class, although some crossing of subcastes is permissible if the class positions of the bride’s and groom’s families are similar. Although dowry is now prohibited by law in India, extensive gift exchanges took place with every marriage. Even when the boy’s family does not “make demands,” every girl’s family nevertheless feels the obligation to give the traditional gifts—to the girl, to the boy, and to the boy’s family.
Particularly when the couple would be living in the joint family—that is, with the boy’s parents and his married brothers and their families, as well as with unmarried siblings, which is still very common even among the urban, upper-middle class in India—the girl’s parents are anxious to establish smooth relations between their family and that of the boy. Offering the proper gifts, even when not called “dowry,” is often an important factor in influencing the relationship between the bride’s and groom’s families and perhaps, also, the treatment of the bride in her new home.
In a society where divorce is still a scandal and where, in fact, the divorce rate is exceedingly low, an arranged marriage is the beginning of a lifetime relationship not just between the bride and groom but between their families as well. Thus, while a girl’s looks are important, her character is even more so, for she is being judged as a prospective daughter-in-law as much as a prospective bride. . . .
My friend is a highly esteemed wife, mother, and daughter-in-law. She is religious, soft-spoken, modest, and deferential. She rarely gossips and never quarrels, two qualities highly desirable in a woman. A family that has the reputation for gossip and conflict among its womenfolk will not find it easy to get good wives for their sons. . . .
Originally from North India, my friend’s family had lived for forty years in Bombay, where her husband owned a business. The family had delayed in seeking a match for their eldest son because he had been an air force pilot for several years, stationed in such remote places that it had seemed fruitless to try to find a girl who would be willing to accompany him. In their social class, a military career, despite its economic security, has little prestige and is considered a drawback in finding a suitable bride. . . .
The son had recently left the military and joined his father’s business. Since he was a college graduate, modern, and well traveled, from such a good family, and, I thought, quite handsome, it seemed to me that he, or rather his family, was in a position to pick and choose. I said as much to my friend. While she agreed that there were many advantages on their side, she also said, “We must keep in mind that my son is both short and dark; these are drawbacks in finding the right match.” . . .
An important source of contacts in trying to arrange her son’s marriage was my friend’s social club in Bombay. Many of the women had daughters of the right age, and some had already expressed an interest in my friend’s son. I was most enthusiastic about the possibilities of one particular family who had five daughters, all of whom were pretty, demure, and well educated.
Their mother had told my friend, “You can have your pick for your son, whichever one of my daughters appeals to you most.” I saw a match in sight. “Surely,” I said to my friend, “we will find one there. Let’s go visit and make our choice.” But my friend held back; she did not seem to share my enthusiasm, for reasons I could not then fathom.
When I kept pressing for an explanation of her reluctance, she admitted, “See, Serena, here is the problem. The family has so many daughters, how will they be able to provide nicely for any of them? . . .
Since this is our eldest son, it’s best if we marry him to a girl who is the only daughter, then the wedding will truly be a gala affair.” I argued that surely the quality of the girls themselves made up for any deficiency in the elaborateness of the wedding. My friend admitted this point but still seemed reluctant to proceed.
Is there something else,” I asked her, “some factor I have missed?” “Well,” she finally said, “there is one other thing. They have one daughter already married and living in Bombay. The mother is always complaining to me that the girl’s in-laws don’t let her visit her own family often enough. So it makes me wonder, will she be that kind of mother who always wants her daughter at her own home? This will prevent the girl from adjusting to our house. It is not a good thing.” And so, this family of five daughters was dropped as a possibility.
Somewhat disappointed, I nevertheless respected my friend’s reasoning and geared up for the next prospect. This was also the daughter of a woman in my friend’s social club. There was clear interest in this family and I could see why. The family’s reputation was excellent; in fact, they came from a subcaste slightly higher than my friend’s own. The girl, who was an only daughter, was pretty and well educated and had a brother studying in the United States. Yet, after expressing an interest to me in this family, all talk of them suddenly died down and the search began elsewhere.
“What happened to that girl as a prospect?”
I asked one day. “You never mention her anymore. She is so pretty and so educated, what did you find wrong?” “She is too educated. We’ve decided against it. My husband’s father saw the girl on the bus the other day and thought her forward. A girl who ‘roams about’ the city by herself is not the girl for our family.” My disappointment this time was even greater, as I thought the son would have liked the girl very much. . . .
I learned that if the family of the girl has even a slightly higher social status than the family of the boy, the bride may think herself too good for them, and this too will cause problems. . . .
After one more candidate, who my friend decided was not attractive enough for her son, almost six months had passed and I had become anxious. My friend laughed at my impatience: “Don’t be so much in a hurry,” she said. “You Americans want everything done so quickly. You get married quickly and then just as quickly get divorced. Here we take marriage more seriously. We must take all the factors into account. It is not enough for us to learn by our mistakes. This is too serious a business. If a mistake is made we have not only ruined the life of our son or daughter, but we have spoiled the reputation of our family as well. And that will make it much harder for their brothers and sisters to get married. So we must be very careful.”
What she said was true and I promised myself to be more patient. I had really hoped and expected that the match would be made before my year in India was up. But it was not to be. When I left India my friend seemed no further along in finding a suitable match for her son than when I had arrived. Two years later, I returned to India and still my friend had not found a girl for her son. By this time, he was close to 30, and I think she was a little worried. Since she knew I had friends all over India, and I was going to be there for a year, she asked me to “help her in this work” and keep an eye out for someone suitable. . . .
It was almost at the end of my year’s stay in India that I met a family with a marriageable daughter whom I felt might be a good possibility for my friend’s son. . . .
This new family had a successful business in a medium-sized city in central India and were from the same subcaste as my friend. The daughter was pretty and chic; in fact, she had studied fashion design in college. Her parents would not allow her to go off by herself to any of the major cities in India where she could make a career, but they had compromised with her wish to work by allowing her to run a small dress-making boutique from their home. In spite of her desire to have a career, the daughter was both modest and home-loving and had had a traditional, sheltered upbringing.
I mentioned the possibility of a match with my friend’s son. The girl’s parents were most interested. Although their daughter was not eager to marry just yet, the idea of living in Bombay— a sophisticated, extremely fashion conscious city where she could continue her education in clothing design—was a great inducement. I gave the girl’s father my friend’s address and suggested that when they went to Bombay on some business or whatever, they look up the boy’s family.
Returning to Bombay on my way to New York, I told my friend of this newly discovered possibility. She seemed to feel there was potential but, in spite of my urging, would not make any moves herself. She rather preferred to wait for the girl’s family to call upon them. A year later I received a letter from my friend. The family had indeed come to visit Bombay, and their daughter and my friend’s daughter, who were near in age, had become very good friends. During that year, the two girls had frequently visited each other. I thought things looked promising.
Last week I received an invitation to a wedding: My friend’s son and the girl were getting married. Since I had found the match, my presence was particularly requested at the wedding. I was thrilled. Success at last! As I prepared to leave for India, I began thinking, “Now, my friend’s younger son, who do I know who has a nice girl for him . . . ?”

by Serena Nanda- From Nanda, S. (1992). Arranging a Marriage in India. In P. R. De Vita (Ed.). The Naked Anthropologist (pp. 139–143) apud 'Cultural Anthropology- The Human Challenge' by WILLIAM A. HAVILAND- (University of Vermont), HARALD E. L. PRINS- (Kansas State University) BUNNY MCBRIDE- (Kansas State University) and DANA WALRATH- (University of Vermont- Belmont, CA: Wadsworth.),Wadsworth, Belmont, USA , 2010, p.221-222. Edited and illustrated to be posted by Leopoldo Costa.