Priya-Alika Elias, «Besharam: On Love and Other Bad Behaviors» | Lemix

Priya-Alika Elias, «Besharam: On Love and Other Bad Behaviors»:

Why I’m No Longer Talking to White People about Arranged Marriage

I have to be honest about something—if I were white, I would probably ask my Indian friends a lot of creepy questions about arranged marriage. I’m sorry.

Arranged marriage is a wildly complex way of bringing together two people. Anybody who says they aren’t interested in hearing about it is lying through their teeth. I know white Americans are interested. (I know this because of the number of people who have asked me about it over the years. Usually at completely inappropriate times, like at my law school graduation. “I’m just saying, it’s so heartwarming that you didn’t succumb to the pressure of getting an arranged marriage!”)

The thing about arranged marriage is that it’s not exclusive to us. It’s as old as the concept of soap. (It’s marriage for love that’s the shocking new concept.)

Arranged marriage is right there on the very first page of Pride and Prejudice, which means that no English major anywhere in the world has an excuse for ignorance:

“Is he married or single?”
“Oh, single, my dear, to be sure! A single man of large fortune; four or five thousand a year. What a fine thing for our girls!”
“How so? How can it affect them?”
“My dear Mr. Bennet,” replied his wife, “how can you be so tiresome! You must know that I am thinking of his marrying one of them.”

The rest of the book bangs on about the great love between Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy, but this is the crucial passage. This book is a story about arranged marriages.

Love Marriages in P&P:
1) Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy (NB: she says her attraction was based in part on his huge mansion)
2) Jane and Mr. Bingley

Arranged Marriages in P&P:
1) Charlotte and Mr. Collins
2) Lydia and Mr. Wickham
3) Anne de Bourgh and Mr. Darcy (if she hadn’t been “sickly,” which is probably code for TB)
4) The other sisters
5) Caroline Bingley (probably)
6) Mrs. Bennet

Mrs. Bennet is the quintessential Indian aunty at a wedding — she maneuvers every social situation such that two compatible people can meet. She might sound like a human dating app but in truth, she is far more efficient. Dating apps only show you what a person would like to be seen as. Even a first date isn’t a real date—it’s somebody who’s sent their lawyer to make a good case for them.

One of the most pressing concerns of white people is how impersonal arranged marriage is. “How can you get married to a person without knowing anything about them?” they cry, as if marriage wasn’t, by definition, a bizarre contract. You might know your spouse’s favorite color or their preferred brand of toothpaste, but there are so many ways in which human beings are unknowable.

Every day—every single day—there’s a story in the papers about a wife of fourteen years discovering her husband’s hidden sex slave in the attic. At this point, I think we have to admit that we, as a species, are beautifully trusting and fatally stupid. We can absolutely get married to a person without knowing anything about them. We can stay married to a person for fourteen years and take their word for it that the bizarre noises from the attic are merely the wind knocking over a bucket full of mops.

Arranged marriage can’t solve this problem entirely, of course. But it goes a long way towards it.