A marriage is meant to unite two families, mark the beginning of a new chapter and create memories that endure. Yet, in Kashmir, weddings are increasingly becoming occasions of competitive display. What should be a dignified social ceremony is often turned into an expensive spectacle, measured by the number of guests, the scale of the feast, the decoration of the venue, the value of the clothes and jewellery, and the size of the dowry.
The problem is not celebration itself. Families have every right to rejoice. The concern is the growing pressure to spend beyond one’s means simply to satisfy social expectations. In many cases, a wedding is no longer judged by the character of the bride and groom, or by the strength of the families involved, but by the grandeur of the arrangements. A modest ceremony is treated as a sign of weakness, while extravagance is mistaken for prestige.
This culture places an unfair burden on families, particularly those with limited incomes. Parents often spend years saving for a wedding, sell land or jewellery, borrow money and take loans that take years to repay. Some families begin planning for a daughter’s marriage from the moment she is born. Instead of investing in her education, health and independence, they are forced to think about the cost of catering, clothing, gifts and dowry.
The situation becomes even more painful when families try to imitate those with greater financial means. A wealthy household may spend lavishly without facing immediate hardship. But when the same standards are imposed on a middle-class or poor family, the consequences can be severe. The family may enter marriage under a mountain of debt, with its financial insecurity hidden behind a few hours of celebration.
The social pressure is often subtle but powerful. Relatives compare menus, guests compare clothes and neighbours discuss the arrangements. A family that chooses simplicity may be questioned, mocked or accused of lacking status. Such attitudes reveal a troubling distortion of social values. We have allowed public opinion to become more important than personal wellbeing.
The wedding industry also feeds this competition. Elaborate decorations, multiple functions, costly photography, designer outfits, lavish invitations and enormous feasts are marketed as necessary elements of a successful marriage. Social media has intensified the problem. Every ceremony is presented as a carefully produced display, encouraging others to match or exceed it. Weddings are no longer private family occasions; they are increasingly treated as public exhibitions.
This has consequences beyond household finances. Lavish weddings generate food waste at a time when many families struggle to meet basic needs. Excessive use of disposable material adds to environmental pollution. Traffic congestion, noise and the uncontrolled use of public spaces create inconvenience for entire neighbourhoods. The social cost of extravagance is therefore paid not only by the host family but by the wider community.
The most damaging aspect is the manner in which lavish marriages reinforce inequality. They create a hierarchy in which people are judged according to what they can display. Those who cannot afford expensive ceremonies are made to feel inferior. Young men and women may also be pressured into unsuitable marriages because families fear the cost of arranging alternatives. In some cases, parents delay marriages or reject suitable proposals because they cannot meet unrealistic demands.
Dowry remains one of the darkest expressions of this problem. It is often defended as tradition, but no tradition that humiliates families or turns daughters into financial liabilities deserves protection. Demands for expensive vehicles, furniture, electronics, gold and cash place immense pressure on the bride’s family. These demands can continue even after marriage, creating resentment and insecurity within the household.
Religious and cultural values offer no justification for such excess. The essence of marriage is simplicity, responsibility and mutual respect. A ceremony may be beautiful without being wasteful. Hospitality does not require endless dishes. Dignity does not depend on expensive clothing. Happiness cannot be measured by the size of a banquet hall.
The answer lies in collective action. One family alone may find it difficult to resist social pressure, but communities can change their expectations together. Religious scholars, civil society groups, educational institutions and local leaders should openly promote simple marriages. They should discourage dowry, publicise responsible ceremonies and challenge the belief that extravagance is a measure of honour.
Families must also understand that a wedding is only one day, while its financial consequences may last for years. Money spent on unnecessary display could instead support the couple’s education, housing, healthcare or livelihood. A secure beginning is a far greater gift than an impressive ceremony.
There is a need for public awareness, but also for moral courage. People must learn to celebrate without competing, host without humiliating and give without demanding. A marriage should bring families closer, not force them into debt. It should offer hope, not anxiety.
Kashmir has a rich tradition of community, restraint and dignity. That tradition should not be buried beneath imported extravagance and social rivalry. The true beauty of a marriage lies not in its decorations or menu but in the values that sustain it afterwards.
A simple wedding may not attract as much attention as a lavish one. But it can preserve savings, protect family dignity and give the newly married couple a healthier beginning. At a time when economic uncertainty is affecting almost every household, the choice is not merely between a grand ceremony and a modest one. It is a choice between appearance and responsibility.
Society must choose wisely. Celebrations should reflect happiness, not insecurity. Marriages should unite people, not burden them. And no family should have to sacrifice its future merely to prove that it can afford one extravagant day.
( The author is a PhD in sociology and a columnist)
