In Netflix’s “Indian Matchmaking”, marriage consultant Sima Taparia travels the world to meet hopeful clients and help them find the perfect match for an arranged marriage.
The format of the show is simple. Hopeful brides and grooms meet with Taparia, often with their pushy parents in tow, for an initial consultation. The criteria are presented, the possible suitors are presented on paper, the dates are arranged and then it is up to the couple to decide if it is a match.
The stories of the characters, as well as the most terrible moments, unfold in an entertaining way, sometimes revealing the absurd and uncomfortable of the pairings. I laughed when, for example, Taparia sought the consultation of an astrologer and a face reader.
Matchmaker Sima Taparia meets hopeful clients. Credit: Netflix
Elsewhere, the show presents brutal truths about Indian culture: the emphasis on being “fair”; the enormous pressure to get married; focus on caste and class; stigmatization of independent women workers.
But the show fails to contextualize or even question these problematic beliefs when raised by their characters, instead presenting them as the status quo.
Colorism
Mentioned casually but frequently throughout the eight episodes is the idea that candidates must be “fair” or, in other words, fair-skinned.
The issue of skin color and, later, Social status in Indian culture is incredibly complex. While people with darker skin tones are subject to discrimination and severe prejudice, justice is revered and associated with beauty, wealth, and power.
Vyasar Ganesan (left) and Rashi (right) in episode six of “Indian Matchmaking”. Credit: Netflix
This cultural bias is ingrained from an early age, and women have more social pressure to have lighter skin. If you are a woman, dark skin can be a deciding factor for families looking for the perfect wife for their child. For men, light skin is seen as an advantage, but not as a requirement.
Colorism and the desirability of “fairness” are punctured in girls. In my own case, it started when I was in high school in India, when my classmates made fun of me for having darker skin. Older women would also make unsolicited comments about my complexion, veiled as a genuine concern for myself and my future marriage prospects.
Fair and charming skin cream in a store in New Delhi. Credit: Sajjad Hussain / AFP via Getty Images
Unspoken rules
“Indian Matchmaking” Itself offers a window into the lifestyles of a class of elite Indians who can enlist the service of a world-class matchmaker and, in some cases, take them to the other side of the world. This is not something that regular families do, so the state is already embedded in the narrative.
Perhaps this makes it easier for families to explicitly avoid specifying light skin as part of their match criteria. Taparia assumes that it goes without saying, and constantly describes women as a “good person” or partner because they are “fair and attractive.” Some of the families rely on this: it allows them to be politically correct and lazy in their search for someone “handsome” without explicitly saying “fair”.
Pradhyuman Maloo in episode four of “Indian Matchmaking”. Credit: Netflix
However, they get exactly the type of complexion they want to see. It is the equivalent of writing “caste without bar” in a marriage announcement, a suggestion that the person who placed the announcement is willing to consider candidates regardless of social hierarchy, but actually only has dates with people from the “community.” “which becomes a general euphemistic term for people of the same religion, caste or class.
Take the young Mumbai-based Pradhyuman Maloo as an example, who figures prominently on the show. His well-to-do parents desperately want him to settle down and find a wife, but he doesn’t seem to be interested in the women who introduce him, until they show him a photo of Rushali Rai, a beautiful model from Delhi. His eyes light up at the sight of her. Taparia describes her as “fair and beautiful, but she is also intelligent”.
When Maloo sees his photo the first time, he is elated. “Ahh, she’s so cute!”
“I will tell you that from her dress style to her appearance and everything, how she behaves, that I can meet her,” he said. “It is going to be exciting. It is going to be fun.”
Pradhyuman Maloo on a date with actor and model Rushali Rai in “Indian Matchmaking”. Credit: Netflix
Seeing the two side by side on their date, it’s impossible to ignore the fact that, of all the characters on the show, they have the most similar skin tones. Their combination does nothing to challenge the deep-seated cultural notion that you should marry someone with a similar background.
Changing attitudes
As for women who do not meet the “fair, tall and thin” criteria, we see that the program recognizes a different fate. Businesswoman Ankita Bansal is sent to a life coach, with whom she talks about the insecurities she had with her body while growing up.
“People would come and tell me that you will never find anyone because you have to lose some weight,” Bansal said, adding that he suffered from anxiety “off the charts.” “So that played a huge role in how I completely lost my confidence trying to get close to a man.”
The life coach recognizes that such expectations can be unrealistic and hurtful when it comes to a woman feeling her true worth. “I think it is so superficial, perhaps, that they only define us by the way we see ourselves.”
Nadia Jagessar in episode two of “Indian Matchmaking”. Credit: Netflix
But attitudes towards “justice” and ideals of beauty are changing. Young people, who are generally more social media savvy and better educated, feel more empowered to go against the grain and put pressure on those who continue to perpetuate beauty standards.
The bell “Dark is Beautiful” has launched its decade-long fight against colorism by creating skin bias awareness programs. Others like “Dark is Divine” and “Unfair and Lovely” have also joined the fight.
The show eludes the signs of such progress, rather than providing a platform for outdated cliches about cultural debate and context. Fittingly, in one of the final scenes, Richa, a young American Indian, who is given “95 out of 100” by Tapaira, vanishes from her judgment of the perfect match.
It’s not the first item on a long list, but when it comes down to it, it lands jarringly.
“Not too dark, you know, light skinned.”
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