It hasn’t been easy for Indian Americans to watch the popular Netflix show. But the series has some important lessons for all of us.

By Sherrene DeLong

s the only Indian American in several friend circles, I have been inundated with questions about the new Netflix series, Indian Matchmaking. The show features one of Mumbai’s top matchmakers, Sima Taparia, and her efforts to play cupid around Indian communities in Mumbai, Delhi, and the US.

It is no wonder that the show has received such attention: the drama of finding love, combined with the complexity of cultural rules and expectations, creates the perfect tension for bingeable entertainment.

Of course, different viewers experience the show in different ways. My non-Indian friends have been appalled by the blatant colorism, casteism, sexism, and other oppressive systems. They ask me if these are cultural norms or simply a reality show designed for our entertainment. My Indian family and friends acknowledge these oppressive systems and express mild embarrassment over how the show airs our dirty laundry for any pandemic-fatigued soul with a remote or laptop.

This show has come amidst a small rise in Desi (people from India, Pakistan, and Bangladesh) representation in the TV industry, such as Family Karma on Bravo and Never Have I Ever on Netflix. I was excited to see more South Asian experiences centered in the media and had high hopes that they would represent us well. After all, we don’t get many shots at being in the media spotlight, and we know how influential media portrayal is.

Unfortunately, Indian Matchmaking failed to represent Indians and Indian Americans positively. It also failed to address the problems raised.

As an Indian American Christian, how do I answer my friends and their questions? How do I account for the sins espoused by my own culture? How do I process the tension between the issues highlighted by the show and my value for justice and liberation?

I’m starting to understand why my mom told me not to show Slumdog Millionaire to my friends. She didn’t want others to think that our family was from a slum. Similarly, I don’t want others to watch Indian Matchmaking and think Indians are bound by archaic stereotypes, or that Indian Americans are unflinchingly perpetuating systems of oppression in the United States due to our cultural norms. But are we?

As a Christian, I’ve found it much easier to see the sins of others than the sins in my own heart. Similarly, I can feel enraged by Sima Aunty’s “slim, trim, fair” trope, the superficiality and selfishness of many of the clients, or how the show handled all these issues.

But it is much harder for me to consider how these issues show up in my own mindset.

And this is where this show is a needed lesson, particularly for the Desi community. We must start to excavate our cultures to understand how we subliminally perpetuate harmful ideas. In this cultural moment, with issues of racial injustice at the forefront of the United States, the show is a needed wake-up call to assess our complicity in racist attitudes and actions.

Desi Christians, we must repent of perpetuating racism due to our cultural norms. We must take inventory of our thoughts, words, and deeds, and move in the opposite direction with fervent intentionality.

But let me also address my non-Indian friends: Gaining an understanding of Indian culture from Indian Matchmaking is just as foolish as gaining an understanding of American culture from Friends. Sure, there are some Rosses and Rachels out there, but most people do not fit into the categories portrayed on the show. Get to know Desi people in your life. Hear the different stories of how families understand complicated issues. Do the work needed to foster healthy relationships with fellow image-bearers of a different cultural background rather than relying on TV shows.

Yes, matchmaking and arranged marriages are common in Indian culture. My family was interested in arranging my marriage, and, despite growing up in the US, I was open to it. I have an extremely loving family who cares about me deeply, and I trust them. My parents would not force me to marry against my will but would use an intricate network of family and friends (in lieu of a matchmaker) to find a “match” for me. Anyone they introduced me to would already have their full approval. Then I would need to evaluate for myself.

Indian culture is extremely family-oriented, and family’s approval means the world. We are fiercely loyal to one another, trusting of one another, and protective of one another. Immigrant families exhibit this all the more, where our survival in a different culture absolutely requires the support system of our loved ones.

It is no wonder that when I brought Matthew, a white man, home to meet my parents, they were hesitant. “Their families are different,” they said. I heard the fear of the unknown in those words, fears that they could alleviate if they could use their resources to find someone they trusted. But there was no network they could employ to evaluate a white American man.

But they gave my husband-to-be a chance. As much as I trusted my parents, they also trusted me to bring home someone I genuinely believed I could marry. After all, their marriage was a love match too. Even in their generation, the ideas around arranged marriage were adapting to the times.

Matthew knew about my parents’ expectations and plans, and exhibited cultural humility by taking the time to consider the expectations of my family. He brought my parents his own biodata, including a list of personal references they could call in order to inquire about his character. He brought his resume, so they could know his work experience. He brought pictures of his family, and we looked on Google Earth to see exactly where they lived. He spent hours with my parents working hard to gain their trust, to make himself known to them, and to alleviate their fears. He got to know my extended family, and arranged to have his parents meet mine to officially offer a proposal.

My own love story was unlike those on Indian Matchmaking, but it helped me see the positive cultural practices the show highlighted. Each of the clients involved their families in the matchmaking process. They were constantly debriefing with their loved ones and wrestling through tough decisions together. The resilience of the immigrant families, their strength and drive and vision for themselves and their children, were fiercely portrayed.

I also found hope in the resistance of the new generation of Indians. Ankita, who runs her own fashion brand in Delhi, demonstrated the tension between old systems and modern advancements as a woman entrepreneur with a challenging relationship with her parents. Her perceived rebellion was the light of change I want to see in the Desi community. She is a great reminder of the new Desi generation committed to pursuing justice and liberation from antiquated practices that have caused tremendous generational harm.

Of course, not all Indian families are supportive in a healthy way, just like not all immigrant families become wildly successful, and not all millennial Indians are advocates for independence. There are always exceptions to the rules. This is why it’s important to get to know people and resist making assumptions based on the latest Netflix series or your token Indian friend.

And it’s always a good practice to consider our own cultural practices and engage problematic themes, no matter where we call home. Despite its shortcomings, perhaps Indian Matchmaking can be the beginning of some important conversations for all of us.

Photo by Khadija Yousaf on Unsplash

Sherrene DeLong (MATS, Westminster Seminary California) is working on a PhD in higher education at Azusa Pacific University. She is a contributor to All Are Welcome: Toward a Multi-Everything Church and Hear Us Emmanuel: Another Call for Racial Reconciliation, Representation, and Unity in the Church. She lives in Virginia with her husband and son, and they attend Christ Church PCA in Arlington.