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Different Strokes

Metro Eireann, April 2008

The term ‘arranged marriage’ often holds negative connotations for Westerners, but as one Hindu couple told Catherine Reilly, it’s a common practice within their culture and has worked well for them.

When Sudhansh Verma returned to Ireland as a married man following a short holiday in his native India, his colleagues were bewildered. “When I told everyone at my workplace I got married, the question was ‘how can you do that – how can you go and get married straight away?’” recalls the bemused marketing executive who lives in Newbridge, Co Kildare with his wife Surabhi, a microbiologist. The scene described by Sudhansh has, no doubt, been replicated in workplaces up and down the country in recent years. Stories abound of immigrants returning to these shores with happy wedding photos, while their puzzled Irish colleagues didn’t even know they were dating. In fact, they weren’t – at least not in the Western sense.

Arranged marriages are common among Hindus (like Sudhansh and Surabhi), Sikhs, Muslims and some Christians of African and Asian origin, but can evoke negative and judgemental reactions from Westerners. Sudhansh explains that for Hindus, arranged marriages are by choice and represent a practical solution for men and women of marriageable age, although he adds that the practice has been declining in recent times. For both men and women, the expectation of marriage looms large once they have finished their college studies, although women are generally a few years younger than men when marrying. “The way it works is that, in my case, I did my studies and moved on to a job and was pretty much settled,” says Sudhansh. “My parents thought, now is the time to get married. They asked me ‘Are you okay if we start looking for a bride?’” Then living in Ireland, Sudhansh agreed with his parents’ assessment and the process got going. “There are a lot of ways and means,” says Sudhansh, of the methods employed by families and individuals during the search, which is usually conducted by the man and/or his family. “You can advertise in the newspaper, you can go on the internet where there are a couple of matrimonial websites, you can register and people can go and access that.”

In Sudhansh’s case, it was his parents who embarked on the process within his native India, with Sudhansh providing them the necessary details for their navigation. “I described myself, who I am, what kind of girl I am

looking for,” he explains. “Some people will prefer homely girls rather than professional girls, it all depends. For me, it was a professional girl – if somebody is willing to work, why not?” It was also important to Sudhansh that his bride-to-be matched his own social status. If she was from a family who were either poverty stricken or extravagantly wealthy, it could cause problems. “People have other choices,” adds Sudhansh, of the criteria set out. “Somebody who’s a doctor might go for a doctor girl, those kinds of things. But I just wanted somebody as good as me, and who was ready to adopt my family and settle down.” When a proposal or proposals are received (“You get a lot of applications, just like a job,” quips Sudhansh), they are reviewed by the man and his family, and the ones that are viable are pinpointed – as he succinctly puts it: “Yes, no, not my cup of tea.” “That’s only the initial process,” adds Sudhansh, who says the man and woman – and their families – then have to meet, followed by a number of meet-ups between the would be couple where they chat and begin to get to know one another.

Some Hindu families insist on assessing the potential couple’s compatibility using horoscope tests, although Sudhansh says this wasn’t his scene. “If you believe in all that, you do, and if you don’t, you don’t,” he says. Sudhansh is originally from Lakh Impur, and his parents found him a match who was from Lucknow, in the same state of Uttar Pradesh, although Sudhansh says it is not important that the couple are from the same region of India.

Surabhi Verma, who married Sudhansh in January 2004, recalls that he was the very first potential husband she met, and says it has proved a good match. “He is very down to earth, and lives in reality,” she says. “I like him.” She also reveals that the couple had an incredible 2,500 guests at their wedding reception – relatives, friends, friends of friends, colleagues, colleagues of relatives, etc – but that “only” 1,000 came from her side. The couple had three receptions in total – one for Sudhansh’s family, one for Surabhi’s and another for everyone together, where traditional Indian food and sweets were served. “In India, marriage is a big thing,” adds Sudhansh. “A huge, huge thing.” Sudhansh and Surabhi’s engagement had taken place in January 2004, but it was not until the following June that Sudhansh had time to return to India for the wedding celebration.

Surabhi’s admittance to Ireland was to prove an even more taxing procedure. “Oh yeah, there’s a huge story behind that,” says Sudhansh, “Her visa was rejected three times. When you’d ring them [Department of Justice/Irish Immigration and Naturalisation Service] you’d get through to the call centre and it would be a different person you are talking to every time. The next time you’d ring, you would be talking to someone else, so you’d have to explain the whole story from scratch, and then they’d say ‘oh well, I’ll pass on the message, I can’t do anything’. Then you would get the letter in the post to say [the visa] has been refused.” He continues: “The first reason they gave us was that I was only here for one year, which was not right, I was there for three years already in Ireland before I got married. I was on a work permit, a stamp one, and that means you have to be here a year before you bring your wife. I applied again and told them I’d been here for three years, and they came back with a different reason [for refusal].” The marriage photograph submitted with the visa application, they were told, “does not tell that you got married”. Sudhansh feels this was a cultural misunderstanding. “We have different kinds of rituals at home”, he explains. In the end, he contacted a well-known politician who looked into the case.

Around two months later, Surabhi was granted a visa to start her life in Ireland with her new husband – but yet another obstacle presented itself. The rules at that time, which have since been altered, meant that Surabhi – a qualified microbiologist – would have to spend her days doing absolutely nothing, bound as she was to a spouse dependent visa. In a new country, where she knew nobody, this was a tough time for her. “Yes,” says Surabhi, recalling the frustration, “I was planning to work, but because of the visa situation I couldn’t.” But now employed in her chosen field, Surabhi has warmed to Ireland: “I find the people very nice, and this is an English speaking country, so it’s easy to live here.” Coming to Ireland was a bit nerve-wracking, she recalls, “but it was a good decision”. Surabhi and Sudhansh are expecting their first child in September.

This article was produced with support from the Forum on Migration and Communications (FOMACS).