The Corporate Hijack of Indian Marriage

Marriage, in its essence, was meant to be a private commitment between two individuals, sanctified by families, and supported by society. Yet, in modern India, this sacred union has been hijacked by an industry worth billions, transformed into a commercial circus where emotion is packaged, marketed, and sold at a premium. It is no longer about the boy and girl making a life together—it has become a spectacle staged for the benefit of everyone except the two families who shoulder the burden.

The irony is glaring: the wedding industry thrives precisely because of insecurity and social anxiety. The greater the fear of “what will people say,” the bigger the profit margins for banquet halls, fashion designers, caterers, photographers, decorators, and now even “wedding influencers.” What was once a community affair rooted in simplicity has mutated into a high-cost performance, complete with scripts, stage sets, costumes, and clowns—at the center of which stand two families, dressed like royalty but bleeding financially.

The Rise of the Indian Wedding Industry

Over the last three decades, the Indian wedding has become less of a ritual and more of an industry. Reports estimate its worth at over ₹5 lakh crore annually, second only to the real estate sector. Every advertisement, from gold jewelry to luxury hotels, leans on weddings to sell dreams. Bollywood has played its role too—cinematic weddings have created a fantasy that middle-class families feel compelled to imitate, even at the cost of mortgaging their future.

Parents now speak of their child’s marriage not as a familial responsibility but as a “project.” Wedding planners are hired like corporate consultants; budgets are drawn up as if for a multinational event. Ironically, the one entity missing from all this calculation is the future of the couple itself. While vendors, designers, and venues flourish, the newly married couple often begins their journey amidst debt, unpaid loans, and financial strain.

Cultural and Psychological Pressures

The psychology behind this phenomenon is deeply rooted in Indian cultural conditioning. Marriage is still seen as a “social exhibition” of family standing, honor, and financial worth. A father saving his entire life for his daughter’s marriage is not considered foolish but honorable. A family that spends recklessly on functions is admired, while a family that saves rationally is mocked as “miserly.”

This is where the psychological trap is most visible:

• Guests do not come to bless the couple; they come to evaluate.

• Neighbors and relatives are more interested in the food menu than in the groom’s character.

• A family’s reputation is measured not in values but in the size of the wedding venue.

It is here that the manipulation occurs. Families are compelled to overspend, not out of love but out of fear. Fear of gossip, fear of comparison, fear of exclusion from the community’s approval. The greatest beneficiaries of this fear are not the couple but the wedding industry stakeholders who thrive on selling “packages of prestige.”

Judicial Observations on Lavish Weddings

Even Indian courts have taken note of this social menace. In several judgments, High Courts and even the Supreme Court have lamented the rising trend of ostentatious weddings, explicitly stating that such extravagance often leads to dowry demands, domestic disputes, and even criminal cases.

One notable judgment observed: “The spending of millions on a wedding does not guarantee the success of a marriage. On the contrary, it often burdens the families with debt and plants the seeds of discord between the very couple whose union is being celebrated.”

Another court, in a dowry-related case, sharply remarked: “Society must realize that true dignity lies in simplicity, not in wasteful display. Marriages are becoming exhibitions of wealth, and the law alone cannot undo the psychological pressure that communities themselves impose.”

Such statements reflect what ordinary people already know but refuse to accept: weddings in India have become less about sanctity and more about spectacle.

The Circus of Expenditure

Walk into a typical urban middle-class wedding today, and one can see the “circus” unfolding. It begins with the booking of a lavish marriage hall—often consuming months of salary or requiring loans. Add to it the endless pre-wedding photoshoots, sometimes in exotic locations, marketed as “necessary memories.” Then comes the avalanche of clothes—designer lehengas, sherwanis, matching jewelry—often worn once and then locked away forever.

Guests, ironically, are not grateful; they are critics. They whisper about how much was spent, how much should have been spent, and who “looked richer.” Far from blessing the union, many secretly take pleasure in pointing out flaws, even hoping for failures to justify their envy.

Behind the glitter, the story is darker. Parents, particularly from the boy’s side, often finance the largest portion of these expenses. Whatever little dowry is exchanged rarely matches the outflow that the boy’s family bears in staging the drama. New cars are bought on EMI, houses rented or furnished afresh, even as both families are already drained from the circus of rituals. Two clowns lead this theatre—the fathers of the bride and groom—each trying to outdo the other, each smiling outwardly but bleeding inwardly.

Conclusion

The modern Indian wedding has become less about love and more about logistics, less about union and more about spectacle. It is a marketplace disguised as a ritual, a corporate festival financed by ordinary families who can least afford it.

The saddest truth is this: the only people who benefit from these extravaganzas are the corporations, the event managers, the photographers, the hoteliers, and the fashion houses. The very families who pay for it—the bride’s and the groom’s—are left exhausted, indebted, and often resentful. Guests go home with gossip, vendors go home with profits, and the couple begins its married life with the invisible chains of financial stress.

We must stop pretending that this circus is culture. It is not. It is imitation, addiction, and anxiety packaged as tradition. Real culture is what keeps families together, not what empties their pockets. Real tradition is what builds security, not what destroys it.

If anything, simplicity is not a compromise—it is courage. To celebrate a wedding without competing in social theatre is to liberate the couple and their families from a prison of expectations. It is to put the marriage back at the center, where it belongs.

A marriage can survive without fireworks, designer outfits, or 1,000 guests. But no marriage can survive under the burden of debt, humiliation, and the silent bitterness that follows reckless spending.

The conclusion is blunt, but it must be said: if you want to save the institution of marriage, you must first kill the circus of weddings. Only then will love, partnership, and family return to their rightful place above spectacle and show.

by: Rajan Veda