Marriage is an inescapable conversation for almost everyone in India, thereby mentally preparing us for the pressures involved. While only some of us succumb to them, all of us grow up to be immensely aware of the marriage process, obviously from the lens of our respective communities. Indian Matchmaking, a new Netflix original sitting in the ‘Top 10 Shows’ on Netflix India since the last two weeks has undeniably caught the attention of the Indian diaspora around the world. So, it’s plausible that there are a multitude of opinions on it - some draw you towards it and others drive you away from it. 

“Let’s not pin this on Sima,” commented a netizen on an Instagram meme featuring Sima Taparia, a Mumbai-based matchmaker who leads the show with her selected set of candidates. “She is showing nothing but the truth,” the user added. It is indeed believably realistic, especially when it is uncomfortable to watch. But do we accept reality television with paeans plainly for the reality?  While some people appreciate being shown the truth, others focus on asking loud and clear why such a reality exists in the first place. “This show gives me anxiety,” wrote a netizen on Instagram. “There are people in this world who don’t look down at you like that. Wait till you find a normal human,” quoted a post criticizing the show. Indian Matchmaking consistently influences a jaw drop or a giggle throughout the season. Either way, it attempts to entertain and seldom enlighten. But does it empower? 

In many ways, the format of the show fails its content. Sima’s outright opinions on each candidate and situation drive you away from forming your own opinions about the matches. Smriti Mundhra’s last production, an award-winning documentary, A Suitable Girl  strikes a chord with you that Indian Matchmaking struggles with. Following an Indian girl’s journey into marriage, the documentary imparts several silent messages. Not every show or movie depicting social issues calls for a display of retaliation. Many times, a simple portrayal possesses the most power in this genre. After all, we all felt a little something when the ‘lower-caste’ character, played by Divya Dutta, squats outside a temple as the ‘high-caste’ community sing praises of the lord, in the 2009 drama, Delhi-6. The caste distinction and its wretched effects were palpable in a mere 10-second scene. Similarly, when Amrita Jhanwar in A Suitable Girl forfeits her desire to work as domestic duties bind her, every scene reeks of her disappointment. From changing into a saree to cooking in the kitchen, she has a busy schedule. And while she stands right beside her husband, it is ineliminable that her life is way different than his. 

Reality TV may differ from documentaries but both represent ordinary individuals with an underlying expectation of connecting with the audiences. Amrita is not so different from a few female candidates on Indian Matchmaking who are expected to cook and clean over choosing their professional ambitions. However, these sexist and traditional norms are neither ridiculed nor shown in a light of helplessness, rather they are plainly ignored to maintain the ‘light’ feel of the show. 

By the end of it, the words ringing in your ears for an ideal bride are: flexible, compromising, and adjusting, while the red flags are: difficult, adamant, stubborn and driven. A divorced woman is repeatedly labelled as a ‘difficult’ candidate to match with; a business woman in India is preached to let go and invest ‘more’ than the man in the marriage; a Houston-based female lawyer is conveniently labelled ‘stubborn’ and ‘picky’, not just by Sima but also by her face and horoscope readers. These negative terms are flipped in the air every few minutes in reference to women. Young male candidates, who one would expect to be open minded, reject 100+ girls upholding a tenet of entitlement. “No wonder most of us face an identity crisis quite early on in our lives,” remarks a college student studying in Delhi. “We are taught to be academically successful and professionally potent throughout our early years only to let our careers take a backseat once we get married.” she adds. 

When an Indian-origin, Guyanese female candidate, Nadia, is introduced on the show, she openly talks about her community and background. Within seconds, Sima begins to exclaim - once in front of the family and repeatedly to the camera - “It’s going to be difficult”, her go-to statement for any person visibly different from the conventional form. And this is despite Nadia’s generous approach to match beyond barriers of community, religion, caste etc. 

In the words of Teri Schwartz, former Dean, UCLA School of Theatre, Film and Television, “Through film, television, digital media, theater and animation, we know that we have in our hands some of the most powerful tools and platforms in history for creating and delivering stories to the widest possible audiences around the world.” One could wonder how Indian Matchmaking so helplessly struggles to spread a positive message around arranged marriages in India especially with content that is dominated by commodification of candidates, assuming them to be milksops, moldable on the pretext of traditions. 

The flaws in the show’s format are lucid when men begin to face their share of sexism. Not only does Indian Matchmaking struggle with challenging traditional gender roles, rather it makes several attempts to normalize it. An average Bollywood flick, Mere Baap Pehle Aap in 2008 highlighted the challenges faced by a middle-aged widower in his attempt to re-marry. Devoid of an international platform, this movie was able to tackle the issue of age-based bias and the proscriptions of second marriages in a comical fashion, similar to the theme Indian Matchmaking was aiming for. But to our dismay, even in a patriarchal environment, men are commodities weighed by their income and ambition. A well-educated female candidate on the show is shown to turn down a match with this statement: “You may be a nice person, but is that going to pay the bills five years from now?” Another woman states in her list of preferences for a groom that in comparison to her income, his must be “equal or higher”. While the mother of a son sitting in India expects her future daughter-in-law to ‘cook and follow the rules of her husband’s house’, the mother of a daughter in Texas finds a man with a less-than-burning ambition to be a ‘very alarming’ trait. At the receiving end, men are as docile and polite to these stereotypes as any woman would be. But the question is, how many men would refuse to pursue a woman because of her pay and why does no one raise this concern on the show? 

Undeniably, this show holds up a mirror to our society. We are more worldly than we accept. When provided with an opportunity to choose a life partner, most of us would go for someone who checks all our boxes - some innocent, materialistic desires. We all have our own lists regardless of an arranged or love marriage. The show's portrayal of the muddle prospective brides and grooms are caught in, is impeccable for its genuineness and relatability with its target audience. There seems to be a pervasive concern around the image of the Indian community in reaction to shows such as these. To which one could argue that it is in these imperfections that communities show the potential for growth. Moreover, via odd means however, Indian Matchmaking brought together a massive community of netizens who confidently raised their voice against the evils depicted in the series. With over 10,000 posts on Instagram on #indianmatchmaking in addition to thousands more with related categorizations, the show is the talk of the town.

Here’s hoping the town improves itself soon enough. 

Image source: Netflix

Ishika Gupta is a Bachelor of Economics student at the University of Delhi. She is passionate about research and writing. Hasrat is proud to have her as a co-author for this piece, appreciates her eye for detail and interest in advocating solutions for the social issues that exist today.