Day 162: Navigating the Desi Marriage Process Pathway

OYLPA Day 162: Navigating the Desi Marriage Process Pathway, originally uploaded by klodhie.

Now that the jet lag and vacation high is beginning to wear off, of course the question is once again raised: what are you going to do with the rest of your life? (roughly translated from desi code language to English as “When will you find a nice boy to marry and make babies with?”). At this point in life, a desi woman such as myself has most probably figured out how to quickly inflate a transparent “marriage comments” shield within milliseconds to deflect such statements (insert lightsaber sound effect).

Yet there’s something poisonous about the desi marriage system that has this subtle way of chipping away faith in oneself, and I’m not just talking about the comments made by others. It’s the entire, lifelong process, and the fact that it is still in place baffles me. Of course, not all desi families still prescribe to the system, but many, if not most, still do. Many desi parents that immigrated to America in the 1970s and 1980s were part of that first large influx of Pakistanis to America, those that now form the backbone of our community here. This immigrant generation, by and large, went through the desi marriage system themselves in Pakistan. Yet when this generation settled in America and gave birth to the first generation of Pakistani-Americans (those children born in the 70s and 80s), an entirely new group of elements entered the scene, particularly in terms of the desi marriage process.

Pakistanis and Pakistani-Americans, as I’ve known them, seem to emanate this deep desire to cling to and preserve their cultural heritage - values, customs, traditions and all; they desire it far more than Pakistanis in Pakistan do, as I noticed during my trip. For example, growing up in America, many of us Pakistani-Americans speak more Urdu than kids born and raised in Pakistan; for us here, learning our mother tongue is an essential part of maintaining our heritage, but for many Pakistanis in Pakistan, Urdu is nothing much of importance, and Westernization (including speaking English instead of Urdu) is seen as a positive status symbol (in fact, I heard a story while there that there are women who actually learn and practice speaking Urdu with an American accent; this saddens me, I have to say). Pakistani-Americans, on the other hand, continue to find any and every way to maintain their heritage, in fear of losing it completely amidst all the other cultures present and melding in America. Weddings, hands down, play the most major part of this cultural maintenance process, I’d say. In close second place would be Eid and Ramadan customs and celebrations, and while there is a bitter taste on my tongue as I begin to mouth these next words, Bollywood also seems to have had a large cultural impact on those born in 70s and 80s America. There is much to be said on this last point, but I’ll leave that for another day (perhaps this calls for a trip to our local Indian cinema).

The marriage process, then, is a large part of this clinging-to of desi heritage in America. But it becomes very complicated with the first generation of Pakistani-Americans, or even in a more narrow sense, those born here before the 1990s. What you have with this section of the generation is a very difficult plane of existence in which we struggle to live as Pakistanis, South Asians, Americans, and Muslims, all at once. Parents of this generation worked hard to instill desi heritage in their children, while the young generation itself was and still is in a constant state of attempting to reconcile all of the cultures thrown its way.

While this multiculturalism is truly something to be celebrated as a great strength on the one hand, it has also become a source of discord when it comes to the marriage process. Parents’ expectations seem to shift throughout the life of the first generation child: at first there is an “unshakeable” insistence on finding a spouse that is both “Pakistani” and “Muslim” (and even further than that, on that of particular ethnicities within the Pakistani race, such as “Punjabi” or “Memon” or “Urdu-Speaking”, as well as on those of particular Islamic sects, such as “Sunni” or “Shia” or “Ahmadi”). Many of the 70s and 80s-born Pakistani-Americans clung well to these restraints and found appropriate, family-pleasing spouses right out of (or even before) college, while a few strayed completely away from the restraints and married against family wishes.

The portion that worries me, though, is that group of desi-Americans (who I might call the “middle-of-the-roaders”) whose parents, with time (“expiration dates” looming by), have begun to slightly loosen the restraints on these ridiculously closed avenues, while still maintaining particular expectations of how their children are supposed to meet possible partners. I’ve heard from many of my generation in this portion how they were told while growing up that dating was absolutely not allowed, but that once the “marriageable age” was reached, they were suddenly expected to come up with “suitable” partners that they “clicked” with (“suitable” being quoted sarcastically by the younger generation, and “clicked” by the elder). As one can imagine, this has led to quite some trouble for the young men and women I know, including myself, who do not know where in the world they are supposed to suddenly come up with a magical, perfect person.

Young Pakistani-American men in their late 20s and early 30s these days seem to be struggling with personal complications of their own (with a rising inability to “figure themselves out” or decide on a career or location or commitment, or anything much at all), while young Pakistani-American women in the same age range are (very proudly!) increasing their level of education, career aspirations, and intolerance of useless boys. Add to this situation the mess that is created when aunties get involved – oh the horror, the horror! Either the persistent mothers of confused boys fail to understand their sons, or the confused sons of these persistent mothers fail to communicate their confused state (or both, as I believe).

What results is the harmful, corrosive situation that I mentioned at the beginning: young women are being introduced, through aunties, to young men who have no intention of commitment, or who completely lack the ability to proceed in a mature, honorable fashion. Too many beautiful, intelligent, wonderful women and friends I know have been repeatedly hurt through this process. The desi marriage system, as it stands, is slowly eating away at the self-esteem and self-faith of many of these young Pakistani-American women, who continue to work hard against some of the outdated norms of culture and the struggle to reconcile a multicultural state of being in America.

Desi-American children of the 70s and 80s must trudge through the marriage process, I suppose. But I do see positive signs of a smoother cultural reconciliation among the portion of the generation born in the 90s and after, many of whom are now reaching the “marriageable age” themselves. What will be most interesting to see in the coming decades is how us first-generationers help our own, second-generation desi-American children navigate through the pathways of the marriage process.

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