Enterprising Cupids
By Peeyush Agnihotri

MARRIAGES might be made in heaven but if the burgeoning marriage bureaux are any indication, they are being capitalised on on our planet Earth. Those who pilot such bureaux maintain a dusty file of the unhitched and work for a ‘social cause’ is the last thing on their mind.

Want to get attached? Two passport-sized pictures, laudatory biodata, some crisp currency and a round of marriage bureau. That’s all. Then recline on a hammock and watch the "deal-clincher" work for your matrimony. Tie the nuptial knot at your own risk and remember, the word "guarantee" doesn’t exist in their dictionary.

The script of their advertisements varies but the goal is common. Rhetorical ones scream "Dulhan wohi jo XYZ Dilwaye", "technical ones" promise match-fixing through "latest techniques(?)" and staid ones ask a client to pay a visit for "rishtey hi rishtey". Collectively, they adorn ramshackle dhabas, posh hotels, railway platforms, airport lounges and even public washrooms, jeering at those concerned parents with worn-out shoes who move heaven and earth for finding Mr Right for their daughters.

It’s cyber age and life is zipping fast. A lot of people have left the bucolic pastures for urban savannahs. They don’t have friendly neighbourhood masis anymore, who used to move around with "prize catches" up their sleeves in the good old days. Further, demands of a common man have increased and so have his expectations.

"Man in the city has no mediator to rely upon to fix up a matrimonial alliance and that is why marriage bureaux are doing good business," says Surinder Pal Singh, a Sector 37-based agent.

Rates of such match-fixers vary from as low as Rs 250 to Rs 1,100 for registration and anything between Rs 500 and Rs 11,000 is taken once the "matrimonial alliance" deal is clinched. On an average, seven matches are fixed a month. Interestingly, NRIs, who commanded a higher price tag till a couple of years ago, find a few takers today.

"Any professional who is charming and ambitious has more opportunities in India and doesn’t prefer going abroad by getting married to an NRI anymore," explains Ram Sharan Pujara, an electronics engineer, who has had a stint abroad and now runs a marriage bureau.

"There is always a communication gap if one seeks a life partner through newspaper columns. No one wants any interference these days and information given in response to newspaper matrimonial ads is limited. Though counsellors try to fix up a match, it is better if the party concerned still makes enquiries itself, " Pujara says.

Despite demanding so much money, no "match-fixer" is ready to take the guarantee of the deals they finalise. Then what’s the fee for? And what makes this service more attractive and worthwhile than a newspaper ad? No bureau had an answer to this.

"Though there is no precise data to prove that a marriage fixed in such a way doesn’t work yet there have been instances where counsellors have been known to see the deal through merely to extract their own pound of flesh. This naturally might result in marital problems," says Harsh, a sociologist.

When the not-so-happily-married couples go to the ‘knot-tier’ with some grievance, he usually does a vanishing act by totally dissociating himself from the alliance. "There have been bad cases as well. In one case the girl had an adjustment problem in the joint family. But then how are we to blame for it?" asks a marriage consultant.

So as long as there are despondent daddies and worried mummies, such "enterprising cupids" will continue to live happily ever after.