The Sacrifices of Matrimony in A Suitable Boy
Mira Nair’s limited series A Suitable Boy—based on Vikram Seth’s novel—reveals even with changing times, many of our approaches to arranged marriage in India have remained the same.
Guests chatter among themselves around the finest display of garment craftmanship. Heirlooms and vintage pieces of jewellery shine through. Everyone eyes the bride and groom, waiting for them to get done with the pheras, so they can continue making mental notes of the ‘next in line’: Lata. The protagonist of the story has been told that will marry someone of her mother’s choosing. The groom’s younger brother has already been given nudging elbows hinting that this will be his fate soon, too.
This is the opening sequence of Mira Nair’s limited series A Suitable Boy (2020), adapted from Vikram Seth’s 1993 book of the same name, an episode that could easily be mistaken for a very real Indian wedding.
Released by BBC One, and soon to be out on Netflix, A Suitable Boy stars Tabu (Saeeda Bai), Ishaan Khatter (Maan Kapoor), Rasika Duggal (Savita Mehra), Tanya Maniktala (Lata Mehra), and Namit Das (Haresh Khanna) among others. Set a few years post partition in 1951, it sees Lata, student of English Literature, choose between three diametrically varied suitors. Revolutions rise and exhale in the backdrop as India, like our heroine, comes warily and unsurely of age. Electoral politics and Hindu-Muslim riots in north India carry on while we see the story of the Mehras, the Kapoors (who are from a politically-connected background) and the Chatterjees unfold through six hour-long episodes.
Lata commands the affections of three young men: a cricketer, a poet, and a shoemaker. The suitors are charming and persistent, making it difficult for her to choose. Lata’s first suitor, Kabir Durrani, is a Muslim, and Lata’s Hindu family have some apprehensions against this match. Lata, like many girls, finds it futile to pursue this relationship because of their differences. Arranged marriages happen to be a contest in finding the right match from the right caste, religions, and appropriate economic and social strata. Love is above this, and we as a nation have too often been witness to ‘honour killings’ that happen in the name of social class.
The pressures of getting married and finding the right match are too real, that even though the story is set in the 1950s, the themes still holds true today. From parents worrying to get their daughters married at the ‘right age’, to the wedding process itself, there has been a good conversation revolving around the subject with the release of Netflix’s reality series, Indian Matchmaking.
The date with the prospective partner in the arranged marriage ecosystem, often called as the ‘meeting’ (since it’s so formal) often lands up happening with the parents of the bride and groom first, like it did with Haresh and Lata’s mother. In that particular scene, Haresh is actually asked to show his certificates of merit, and medals that prove his achievements. One could fall in the trap of imagining this as a job interview; they would’ve might as well asked him his bank account details and pay slip.
When a lady shows Lata’s mother some potential matches, she sifts through them as if she were on Tinder, swiping left to each. For some, the height was an issue, and for some, it was the qualifications. Usually on dating sites or in this part of the world, a resume (or biodata, as they call it) floats around for potential suitors to choose their ideal candidate. A single piece of paper to summarise your character. It is classic ‘judging a book by its cover’, for those who look suitable in theory may not necessarily turn out to be a unicorn in person. The biodata can in no terms be a testament of character, or provide assurance that the marriage will work.
People in the arts often get caricatured as ‘whimsical’, like the Chatterjees in this series. Amit, another suitor for Lata, is a noted poet published in England and lionised in Calcutta. And yet, Lata’s mother keeps hinting at him to get a ‘proper job’. In one of the scenes she tells her eldest daughter that lads who spew poetry are no good, that they only feed stupid ideas in the head.
The series hurries to tick off plot points from Seth’s novel, with scenes coming at us in quick fragments. By its conclusion, it felt like the editor and director were on a deadline or striving to ensure the story’s time remain only six hours short.
In the very beginning, Lata tells her mother she has no interest in finding boys. But she does fall into the trap of the system as she skims through her many options. At one point, Lata sets out to make things work with her classmate, Kabir too, considering and setting aside their religious differences to spend some time together, and soon, is ready to leave her family and elope with him. Word goes around about the two of them in the city; Lata’s mother, unhappy with the turn of events, takes her daughter away to Calcutta.
The pressures of getting married and finding the right match are too real, that even though the story is set in the 1950s, the themes still holds true today. From parents worrying to get their daughters married at the ‘right age’, to the wedding process itself.
Lata’s mother feels that Haresh is the perfect option for her, but Lata’s heart is still with Kabir. She’d rather choose the gushing romance between her and Kabir, or the poetic fairy tale between her and Amit.
When Haresh quits his job at the shoe company, he wonders whether Lata would show interest in him. Their relationship remains in the distance of friendship. At his new job interview, he very categorially states that he needs access to the country club where he can take the family, an employee quarter to stay because he wishes to marry and settle down. This is the pressure that Haresh puts upon himself to be considered marriageable: access to some of the premium clubs intown like the Garware, accommodation in a plush area, and the backing of an affluent company.
To impress Lata’s family, Haresh invites everyone for a Christmas lunch at the club. He wants everything to be perfect, and is willing to spend more than a month’s salary for that. He goes lengths to seek approval, even discarding his paan habit because Lata’s famly consider it uncivilised.
Eventually, Lata does see a good person in Haresh, and even in the twisted social system of an arranged marriage, it could only happen once her parents, siblings, buas, chachas and mausas approve of him first.
The general storyline of the show may be predictable, but there are elements of surprise and tension that lie in the friendship between Maan and Firoz (Shubham Saraf), that bring new flavour to the plot. Maan finds himself passionately drawn towards Saeeda, a courtesan with a magical voice who has him head over heels. Tabu as Saeeda Bai lifts the series: her songs and ghazals come at the right time to emote her feelings. Kavita Seth’s voice here is soulful, mixed with a tinge of a certain sadness. The series could’ve fallen flat without Maan and Saeeda; Khatter is strong his portrayal of the smitten Maan, and his chemistry with Tabu is truly palpable. Another standout character here is Meenakshi Chatter (Lata’s sister-in-law), as portrayed by Shahana Goswami. She’s glamorous and playful, all while singing out some poetry.
After Lata finally decides on the man she’d like to marry, the wedding preparations are hurried in one short scene. Had this been reality, it would have taken a little over a year to decide on the wedding outfit. The jewellery would’ve been scrutinised, makeup and hair trials would’ve ensued. Wedding gifts would’ve been judged and the food at the event would’ve been slammed for not having a live pasta station. It often makes us wonder, that over the glam of the big, fat Indian wedding, people tend to forget the real reason of the event—to witness two people who’ve decided on being together, forever.
A Suitable Boy is a reminder that matches aren’t really ‘made in heaven’: they’re made after carefully looking at a complex series of factors in Indian society: caste, class, weight, financial status, education, colour, and height—with no romantic, heavenly influence to break the shackles of family and community.
As Lata is getting married, her younger brother is being prepared to be next in battle. After all, the need to find a suitable girl for him, perhaps, someone who is a bit ‘flexible and willing to adjust’?
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Nidhi Choksi Dhakan has worked with The Hindustan Times, The Times of India, HT Brunch, and G2. She is a regular contributor at KoolKanya.in. A Mumbaikar by heart, Dhakan shifted to Dubai in 2018. You can find her art on Instagram @sketchbook_stories and her bylines here: https://nc16ultimate.wixsite.com/nidhichoksidhakan
