Dear Sister: Arrange Marriages, & Netflix's Indian Matchmaking?

This one is just me and my sister Komal. We grew up in the same house, heard the same rishta stories around the dinner table, and now we are both navigating adulthood in that strange space where everyone is suddenly very interested in your marital status. We sat down to talk about something that lives in the background of every Desi girl’s life: arranged marriage, love marriage, and that Netflix show that made us all cringe and nod at the same time.

We did not set out to give advice. This is just two sisters finally saying the quiet parts out loud. The parts about compromise being a woman’s word, about the colour of your skin still being part of a biodata, and about how even love marriages can break your heart in ways you never expected.

The big question we are all too scared to ask

Komal and I started with the obvious: what even is the difference anymore? For our parents’ generation, the line was clear. Love marriage was rebellion. Arranged marriage was obedience. Now, we have apps, rishta aunties who text, and families that pretend they are “open minded” until you bring home someone who does not fit the mental checklist.

I asked Komal what she thinks about love versus arranged, and she got that thoughtful look. “In both, you are making a gamble,” she said. “In a love marriage, you think you know the person, but love can be a blindfold. You ignore the red flags because you have already invested so many feelings. In an arranged setup, your family’s judgment is supposed to protect you, but sometimes their criteria are so shallow that you miss the actual person.”

She is right. I have seen friends fall so deep into a love story that they could not see the daily disrespect until it was too late. And I have sat through rishta meetings where the first question was about my complexion, not my character.

Indian Matchmaking: our culture on a Netflix platter

We had to talk about the show. Indian Matchmaking was supposed to be entertainment, but for us it felt like a mirror held too close. You know the scenes: the biodatas read like grocery lists for a fair, slim, convent-educted girl. The matchmaker tells women to lower their expectations while telling men to be patient. It was painful to watch, because we have heard those exact words at family gatherings.

Komal said, “Watching it, I kept thinking, this is our reality. The obsession with height, the ‘good family’ tag, the way a woman’s career is praised until it threatens the husband’s comfort. I cringed, but I also felt seen.”

For me, the hardest part was seeing the women who knew exactly what they wanted be labeled “difficult.” One woman on the show was clear about her boundaries, and the matchmaker called her stubborn. But stubborn is just what we call a woman who refuses to shrink. That small detail stayed with me long after the episode ended.

The small things that actually break a marriage

What the show did not show, and what our aunties never mention, are the tiny, everyday moments that decide whether a marriage survives. It is not the big fight about moving cities. It is how he acts when you are sick, whether he fills your water glass without being asked, whether he defends you in front of his mother or stays silent.

Komal told me about a friend whose arranged marriage looked perfect on paper. “But he never held her hand when they walked. He never noticed when she was tired. He was a decent man, just absent. And she felt so alone.”

We both agreed that small things matter more than any grand gesture. You can have a PhD and a passport and still be a terrible partner. You can be from a simple family and show up every single day with kindness. The checklist fails if there is no everyday care.

What we wish someone had told us before all this

Looking back at our younger selves, Komal and I both sighed. “I wish someone had told me it is okay to want what I want,” she said. “Not what my mother wants, not what society says is safe. I wish I knew that compromise does not mean I have to disappear.”

We also talked about the pressure to marry by a certain age, the fear that your eggs will dry up or you will be “leftover.” It is exhausting. And the truth is, rushing into a bad marriage wastes years you could have spent building a life you love. I am not saying we should all wait forever. I am saying we should be allowed to move at our own pace without the log kya kahenge, what will people say, hanging over every decision.

Why this conversation matters

This is not a review of a TV show or a list of rules for finding a husband. It is an invitation to sit with your own story and ask: what do I truly need? What am I willing to give, and what is non-negotiable? Whether you are single, married, or somewhere in between, I hope you feel less alone after listening to us ramble. Because at the end of the day, no matchmaker, no sister, no mom can know your heart like you can.