1950s, the time when Louis first met his wife, Rita, at a spirited dance at Panjim’s famed Clube Nacional. Fractured sentences weave a story of stolen glances, and chivalrous dances. All he needs is to close his eyes, and he finds himself in the middle of a crowded club room, filled with prospective boys and girls of marriageable age. The setting was tailor made for a boy meet girl scenario. But there was no motivated organisation behind such events. Get-togethers for the exclusive purpose of finding a life partner are now not uncommon, but these days there are more variations on the theme. As 68-year-old Lawrence Coelho sifts through profiles, preparing for the gettogether organised by the Royal Christian Family (RCH) next month, he says, “We compile all the details of prospective brides and grooms and circulate the details about 10 days before the get-together.”
Far from the regalia at Clube Nacional, the RCH meetings are more structured, with no dancing (unless it’s a talent you want to display), and a strict focus on getting to know the person better. “Dancing doesn’t go well with our intention. Introductions must be done properly,” says Coelho, who has been involved in such meetings since they started 33 years ago. With a maximum ceiling of 100 boys and girls at a time, these participants are encouraged to interact and participate in various activities such as games, talent displays and face-to-face interactions.
At the end, the participants share their choices in accord with the format provided by RCH, who then follow up in a few days. Introduced in the 80s, these get-togethers draw people from Mumbai, Pune, Goa, Delhi, Mangalore and even some foreign countries. The only mandate
is you have to be Christian.
Over the years Coelho has seen many
changes in the meetings, but the one
which stands out today is the growing
number of divorcees registering.
“When we started these get-togethers,
we never had any cases of divorcees
registering. But marriages are changing
now. Another trend is that girls today
are much more educated due to which
they find it difficult to find suitable partners,
and hence look outside the community,”
he says.
Such matrimonial get-togethers are
also popular among the Parsis. Held
twice every month, Arnawaz Mistry, the
63-year-old trustee of the Bombay Parsi
Punchayet (BPP) takes pride in having
helped over 18 couples get married
since 2010.
Procreation and marriage is more a
matter of survival for this dwindling
community, and Mistry can see a change
in attitudes. “Now youth see the importance
of marriage,” she says.
The traditional punchayet has also
adopted a few new age techniques to
help in this initiative. Mistry says, “many
girls are shy to approach us about their
marriage. When we have get-togethers,
only one-third of the girls attend. So we
have started sending out emails. We
send them profiles, and if anyone finds
a promising prospect, they take it forward.”
While Vispy Wadia, trustee, Association
for Revival of Zoroastrianism (ARZ), acknowledges
the good intentions in organising
such get-togethers, he believes
it hasn’t been successful because the
root cause is different from the treatment.
“Most Parsi youth live in community
colonies, so it is not like they do not
have a chance to meet. It is the noncompatibility
that is the problem. Such
meets will not be fruitful without addressing
the main issue at hand,” he
says.
Rachna Sawant (name changed to
protect identity) remembers being
dragged to a Maharashtrian melavawhere
she had a number dangling around her
neck.
“It was like a herd of cattle moving
around. If you liked a boy or girl, you
had to quote the number at a counter
for details. These melavas were held
along caste and sub-caste lines,” the
45-year-old said.
Sawant recently visited a Saraswat
food festival in the state, where she realised
that matchmaking may also have
been on the menu. “One wouldn’t expect
people to be dressed in their finery to a
food festival. But here I saw young boys
and girls bedecked and being introduced
to prospective families. The approach
seemed very subtle,” she says.
Varsha and her brother Abhishek
Agnihotri’s Footloose No More (FNM)
has proved to be an antidote to such
traditional matchmaking setups. Started
in 2009, the duo say the company
came out of a personal need, since
they both were in their 30s and single
due to which it was never just a
business with tabulations, paper work
and excel sheets for them.“We bring
people together based on parameters
such as shared interests, whether they
are corporate singles, single parents,
and in categories of income groups,”
says Varsha.
While they don’t have an upper age
limit, they do not usually register girls
below the age of 25 and boys below 28.
Interestingly, FNM has many registrations
from mothers and daughters, or
fathers and sons. “We once had a son
approach us to register his mother. Our
society is becoming so much more open,
it’s a positive sign,” she says.
Varsha and Abhishek don’t restrict
their get-togethers only to parties. They
also organise treks or photography
camps so that couples can interact informally
and get to know each other.
To ensure authenticity, they ask each
person to submit a set of documents
(also a government-approved document)
to prove identity and employment,
among other things.
Varsha now sees a return to roots in
some sense when it comes to marriage.
“Earlier, it was cool not to get married.
Now, youngsters want to settle down
and have children, only they want it on
their own terms. And once they have
found a suitable partner, they want their
families to get involved. Another positive
growing trend is that second marriages
are no longer considered taboo,” she
says.
