A question that has always been on my mind is: who actually gets married—the bride and groom or their families? It’s common to hear about weddings, but sometimes the stories surrounding them make me question who is really getting married—the couple or their families. I recently attended my cousin’s wedding, which was a traditional village wedding, quite different from the more modern weddings in Indian cities. I was particularly interested in the concept of dowry, so I asked my cousins about it. One cousin shared a surprising story about the dowry.
The bride’s family was required to give a motorbike as part of the dowry. They asked the groom which motorbike he preferred, and he chose a Bajaj Platina. The bride’s family purchased this bike about two months before the wedding. However, after buying the bike, they informed my cousin’s family of their choice. My uncle, however, didn’t like the Bajaj Platina and preferred a Hero Honda bike. He insisted that the bride’s family return the Bajaj bike and buy a Hero Honda instead. Since the bride’s family had already paid for the Bajaj Platina, it was difficult for them to return it and get their money back.
They explained that the groom had specifically requested the Bajaj Platina, which is why they bought it. But my uncle argued that they should have consulted him instead of the groom. Since the groom works in Korba, a city about 30 hours away by train from our village, my uncle said the bike would not be used by the groom and should be used by him instead. To resolve the issue, the bride’s family involved the bride. They asked her to tell the groom’s siblings that she preferred the Bajaj bike over the Honda, hoping to convince my uncle.
Despite her efforts, my uncle refused to accept the Bajaj bike. He insisted that it should be a Hero Honda, which was his choice. Eventually, the bride’s family had to pay a penalty, return the Bajaj bike, and buy the Hero Honda. This bike was neither the groom’s nor the bride’s choice; it was simply my uncle’s preference. The bride’s family lost about Rs. 10,000 in the process. It was astonishing to see how the bride and groom had no control over their own wedding. Why ask for a bike if it wouldn’t be used by either the bride or groom? Who was really getting married—the bride and groom or my uncle? I saw my uncle driving the new bike the day after the wedding. I wonder when the bride will get to use the bike her father purchased for her.
After the wedding, the bride moved into the groom’s village house but stayed there while he returned to his work in Korba. I asked my cousin about this, and he explained that village tradition requires the bride to live with her in-laws for at least two years after the wedding. So now, while the groom is in Korba, the bride is left in the village, managing household chores and taking care of her in-laws. At just 19 years old, the bride would have loved to move to Korba with her husband. Instead, she is stuck in the village, where she spends her time cooking, cleaning, and looking after her in-laws. She would have preferred to continue her studies, which would have been easier if she lived with her husband in Korba. I hope that someday, these traditions will change and women in India will have equal rights. For now, though, there is hope for a better future.