In a land where simplicity and spiritual restraint have long been cherished values, the growing culture of lavish marriages in the Kashmir Valley raises uncomfortable questions. The wedding season today is marked less by the sanctity of nikah or the blessings of elders, and more by competition in display: endless wazwan courses, opulent décor, firecracker shows, and multi-day celebrations that stretch family finances to the breaking point. This trend is not merely a matter of personal choice or aesthetic preference. It has deep social and economic consequences. Families of modest means feel compelled to match the extravagance they see around them, lest they be branded “miserly” or “backward.” Loans are taken, savings are exhausted, and in too many cases, people spend years recovering from the cost of a single ceremony. What should be a moment of joy becomes a long-term financial burden. The burden falls especially hard on the poor. Rising expectations around dowry, guest lists, and feasts can delay or even derail marriages for those who cannot afford such a show. Young men and women, otherwise ready to begin their lives together, are left waiting while their families struggle to meet inflated social standards. This is not just an economic distortion; it is a moral one. Religious scholars and community leaders have repeatedly called for austerity and moderation. Our own cultural traditions, when examined honestly, do not demand this race for spectacle. Modest gatherings, limited menus, and simple rituals were once more common, and they did not diminish the happiness of the occasion. On the contrary, they allowed families to focus on what truly mattered: the relationship being formed, the responsibilities undertaken, and the prayers offered for a blessed future. There have been some positive examples. Certain localities and community groups have tried to fix caps on guest numbers or restrict the number of dishes served. A few influential families have consciously chosen low-key weddings and used their example to send a message. Yet these remain exceptions in a society still enthralled by social media, showmanship, and the fear of “what people will say.”
Kashmir now stands at a crossroads. If we continue down the path of unchecked ostentation, we risk entrenching inequality and anxiety in the very institution meant to offer stability and joy. It is time for collective introspection. Parents, clerics, civil society, and the youth themselves must reclaim the spirit of simplicity. A wedding should be remembered for the sincerity of its vows, not the number of its courses or the height of its floral arches.
