The rishta process in Pakistan mirrors a segment out of a beauty pageant, leaving little that doesn’t objectify the girl. Acting shy, there is the infamous rolling out the tea trolley with refreshments followed by the verdict conveyed through impudent comments such as ‘larki ka rang thora kam hai’, ‘weight thora zayada nahi?’, ‘Picture main tou kafi choti lag rahi hai’ and so on. Samia’s sister is one of the many girls who has to go through this insufferable ordeal. Belonging from Gujrat, Punjab, Samia Hasan’s eldest sister was an accomplished woman teaching at a school with double masters in Mathematics and Statistics. Everything was fine and well, yet finding a suitable match for her was a dreadful experience. “When we started searching for a match for our sister, it turned out to be the most painful period of our lives. The torture my sister and my family went through stretched over a period of almost 10 years,” narrates Samia. “Every day people came to ‘look’ at my sister. Mothers of suitors were always peculiar about how thin and dark my sister was. And, we, the younger ones, looked better to those families. They would draw offensive comparisons between us, which later, resulted in a storm in the house on a daily basis,” she adds.
And, as time went by, things started getting worse for Samia’s sister. “When I reached the age of marriage, I often wondered how my sister bore it all. The thing is, even if you try to stay positive in such a situation, the cruelty of it all wouldn’t let you be. My sister used to cry a lot and later she became stubborn and rebellious. I remember one time I was asked to bring her to meet a potential family of suitor and her door was locked. She wouldn’t open it and I had to literally beg her to come with me. With time, she became even more stubborn but I do not blame her for it. She refused to get ready or serve the guests any longer. My mother also wasted a lot of money on matchmaker aunties. The only demand my parents had was to have the same religious caste and education. They never demanded for bungalows, money, cars and other materialistic thing. My mother cried in prayers for better proposals to no avail. There came a time when my mother reached a point of desperation. After gazillion families had rejected my sister, she even became willing to marry her off to divorced men. And when finally, my sister got married, it was only out of compulsion and that too because the family had said ‘yes’,” recalls Samia.
For arranged marriages, the typical age when a family begins their search for potential marriage proposals is from 18 years onwards. In some of the cases, age of the girl does not matter much if the prospects are ideal and deemed to be successful. When meeting the expected groom’s family, the girl’s side usually do not have that many demands. If he is employed and settled, he will be considered a good prospect. However, the situation is different on the other side. The girl who walks in the lounge, tension lingering in the air, is scrutinised for her physical characteristics and shamelessly interrogated about her life.
What makes this process more impudent is that this scrutiny is done over and over again in different houses – sometimes even in a single day – to find the ‘perfect bahu’. Just like a supermarket, these families pick and choose what they like and dislike.
The pressure is on for a 27-year-old Ruqaya Bano from Rawalpindi since her mother passed away four years ago. Her rishta trolley experience has deteriorated her self-esteem and the confidence she once had. “I have been walking up to guests and presenting them trays from the past year only to be rejected. As a result of this, now I am dealing with low self-esteem and feel worthless. I have anxiety and feel suicidal at times. According to my family and especially my father, almost every girl goes through this process. But I think if this happens with everyone then it is the biggest injustice girls are put through. I am 27 and my self-confidence is shattered due to the constant rejection I face. From the colour of my hair to my skin tone, I am confused! I frequently question myself and think that all of this is happening because I am not good enough. I am a graduate but I have been reduced to my looks only. And, I feel that the fault is in me,” laments Ruqaya. “Two days ago, I went to a salon because I have baby hair. I asked the lady to do something that would make my hair look smooth and straight. I understand how pointless this is but I find myself constantly trying something that would win someone’s approval. I used to be a confident girl once. I was always the chatty one in my family and now, I can’t even speak with my heart. I am torn between the burning question of ‘when will I get married’ and ‘why am I not getting married’. Aunties and relatives are always suggesting remedies so I may look better. I don’t blame my father; he obviously is trying to do the best for me since my mother passed away. I also understand that my father is also conditioned to do what the society is doing. He tries to get in touch with the best matchmakers in town for me, but I do not agree. I respect my father and his concerns. I want to study further but he doesn’t support me because he is afraid that it might become a hurdle in my marriage,” she tells.
Rejection can cause a wide range of psychological issues which can potentially cause permanent damage. It can trigger depression, anxiety, negative thoughts, self-doubt, jealousy and a cascade of other emotional consequences that stays with them for life. “I believe that girls should never be stopped from studying. They should be empowered. My sisters often advise me not to feel sad after rejection as I will get something better in return but I think this is oppression in its worst form. This is not the kind of rejection that would benefit my personality; in fact, it will further break and disturb me,” affirms Ruqaya.
Adding to the misery of young girls, the society has accepted and welcomed professional matchmaker aunties. Being a matchmaker is not the problem. The real problem is the unrealistic approach feigned by these matchmakers and their inability to control the wishlist and incessant demands of a man’s family. Matchmakers usually charge an initial registration fee, which is then followed by the fee for setting a meeting between the two parties. And then a hefty amount is charged to both families if a marriage is finalised – and they will not be later held responsible for any deception made. Henceforth, matchmaking has become so commercialised that matchmakers care less if they are making two odd families together. They are also mostly responsible for pressurising the girls’ families to look better and do better in order to reach the unreasonable demands of the grooms’ family. Corroborating with her situation, Ruqaya says, “Matchmakers are a total fraud in our society. They lie for money when they don’t have proposals. They imply to the parents that their daughter is not good enough or they would redirect us to families who are not our match, such as old men, married men, etc.”
Presenting a matchmaker’ perspective, Mrs Kareem, a professional matchmaker, elucidates, “There are two types of matchmakers: professionals who try to take into account the preferences of the girl or guy, and rishta aunties who pose as matchmakers, collect the fees, and then don’t return the calls. The professional ones, whether they have proper offices or work from home, update their clients on the progress - or the lack of it, thereof - and try to make the parties realise which demands they should forsake. But, ultimately, it depends on the clients. I tried my best to make my client realise that her son, a simple graduate, earning 50k, should not aim to high. I showed her pictures of girls from the same economic background, earning the same or a little more than her son, and did my best to make her understand that a beautiful doctor from a good family would also want someone like her. But she did not agree, and said she would go to some ‘good’ matchmaker.”
The girls nowadays are also demanding. They want proposals from good families and want to marry guys who are presentable and educated. “I can’t blame the girls. If they are good looking and well educated, they deserve partners who are like them. Unfortunately, the odds are stacked against them because once they are in their 30s, time runs out for them fast and they end up settling for less than they desire. So, a matchmaker cannot always be blamed. We try to bring the parties together and investigate as much as we can, but tell clients to do their own investigation as well. We are not in the west and can’t use private investigators. So, like in any other profession, there are good matrimonial services and mediocre ones too,” concludes Mrs Kareem.
The author tweets as @TubaATweets
*Names have been changed to conceal identities.
A respectable match is often one arranged in a drawing room. Conveniently, it is referred to as one made in heaven. In such a marriage, the onus is always on the woman to make this fated match work and to keep at it forever. Unfortunately, though, the general focus has not been so much on changing the narrative itself, but rather on its presentation; maybe because of the belief that an arranged marriage is essentially the only form of respectable matrimony.
As a society we often forbid our better sense to prevail. Years of misery have not been enough for us to wonder what exactly went wrong with the arranged marriage culture and what can be done to rectify it. “It is important to give the power back to the real stakeholders - the boy and the girl," says Areeba Atif, owner of a matchmaking Facebook page Skip the Rishta Aunty (STRA). According to Atif, the page is a small step towards shattering the drawing room rishta culture and revolutionising social norms. “We live in a society where marriages that originate outside of drawing rooms are looked down upon, and there are hardly any options available for young people. Their only choice is to succumb to institutions that do not work well anymore with the changing structures of modern society.”
With this platform, the point is to provide more options to people so as to reduce the awkwardness of having their life partner being chosen by anyone other than them - a strangeness embedded in and readily accepted by our culture. “The formation of matrimonial groups on social media is not a complete novelty. People often come up with alternatives, but there isn’t a lot of focus on empowering the stakeholders to make them feel comfortable and more in charge of the process than the traditional rishta route,” says Atif.
This is just a beginning. But who knows it might just be the beginning of something bigger, of the change we need in order to eradicate the age-old custom that has plagued our society, unchecked and incontestable, for as long as one can remember.
– Wajiha Hyder