My culture and Marriage !

I’m almost 30, and for the past decade, the idea of marriage has been looming over me like a relentless shadow.

Why is marriage such a mandatory institution in Indian society?

I've heard all sorts of perspectives—some amusing, others downright frustrating—but the reality remains: society will push you toward marriage, whether you like it or not. That’s just how it works.

Once you're in, you learn to adapt. If you’ve never cooked before, you’ll start. If you’ve never shopped for groceries, you’ll suddenly become an expert in spices.

Statistics show that only 4% of arranged marriages in India end in divorce. But let’s be real—many of these marriages are deeply rooted in traditional beliefs, where divorce is stigmatized, and women who leave a marriage are often treated as second-class citizens. The low divorce rate doesn’t necessarily mean all these marriages are happy—it just means many people, especially women, are stuck in loveless relationships.

Men, too, bear the weight of tradition, family expectations, and societal obligations. Individual dreams and ambitions often take a backseat to what is expected. It’s a cycle of "monkey see, monkey do"—you conform because that’s what everyone else does.

Things are changing in India’s big cities. Love marriages and inter-caste unions are becoming more common. But even then, there are conditions—"I’ll fall in love, but within my own religion, to make things easier when it's time to finalize."

A colleague of mine is dating someone from his own religion, caste, and sub-caste—seemingly the perfect match. But his father demands dowry, and the girl’s parents refuse. Negotiations have been dragging on for three years now. Love, at this point, is confined to office cafeterias and lobby meetups.

Then there’s my cousin. She fell in love with a guy in her MBA program. She started working while he was still figuring things out. Eventually, love couldn’t wait for societal norms. It was an inter-caste marriage, and the groom’s family demanded 75 lakhs. “So what if our son doesn’t earn? We’re still the groom’s side.” For my uncle, it was a battle between societal status and his daughter’s happiness. And as tradition dictates, it’s usually the bride’s father who empties his life savings to meet such demands.

It breaks my heart to see so many people trapped in bad marriages. A friend of mine is tormented by his wife; another is emotionally neglected by her husband while her in-laws treat her like an afterthought. What happens to all those vows about standing by each other through sunshine and rain?

Yet, I have seen a few marriages that work—a blend of love and arranged, where there is mutual respect, understanding, and real companionship.

As for me, I’ve been under immense pressure from both my parents and society. The million-dollar question? “When will you get married?” I dread visiting my village—the place I love—because all anyone wants to talk about is marriage. There, girls marry at 18, men at 22. By that standard, I’m beyond late. My aunt even claims she can’t get her sons married until I settle down. My father, once supportive, is now caving under peer pressure.

I’ve been put in awkward situations—meeting "potential matches" where neither the girl nor her family knows anything about me, yet somehow, I’m the right one. The worst part? Being sent off to have a "private conversation" with the girl—both of us equally uncomfortable—only to have parents ask minutes later, "So, what have you decided?" As if that’s how life-altering decisions should be made.

I believe marriage should be built on mutual consent, not social expectations or pressure from friends and family. The only real question to ask is: "Do I want to spend the rest of my life with this person?" If the answer is yes, you’re on the right path.

No one is perfect. The perfection bar only rises as soon as you reach it. What truly matters is affection, understanding, and companionship—not status, job titles, or financial negotiations.

Like they say, it takes two to tango. I hope my search ends soon (not saying I’m hitched just yet). But trust me, it hasn’t been a pleasant ride. I’ve broken expectations, shattered dreams, and faced the most awkward rejections—like the dreaded, “We’ll think about it and get back to you,” which both parties know means “never.” And then comes the SMS rejection, ruining the family’s mood for days. But honestly, I’d rather be upfront than fake enthusiasm for something I don’t want.

My country still hasn’t fully moved past child marriage, and I fear that in the next decade, the sanctity of marriage will become an even bigger farce. Today, 4% of arranged marriages end in divorce—what if that number jumps to 40%?

Maybe that’s why people say, “There’s no such thing as a happy marriage.”