Somewhere along the way, we stopped getting married for the person and started getting married for the performance. In India, weddings aren’t milestones—they’re productions. The bigger the stage, the brighter the lights. And the bride and groom? Often just props in a story meant to impress others. Behind the shimmer of sequins and the sound of dhols, there’s a quieter truth we rarely acknowledge: We’ve confused the celebration for the connection.

1. Weddings Have Become About Validation, Not Union

We marry for approval, not for personal connection anymore.

We don’t just marry someone anymore—we marry their status, their Instagram potential, their ability to fit into a Pinterest board. The actual relationship often gets sidelined by things like decor themes and choreographed dances.
A wedding should be the beginning of a partnership. Instead, it’s treated like a conclusion—proof to the world that you’ve “made it.” Not in love. But in societal approval.

2. We're Told to Impress, Not to Understand Each Other

Focus is on guests' opinions, not each other's values.

From the first day of planning, most couples are steered by a single question: What will people say? We pick outfits not for comfort, but to stun the crowd. We invite people we barely know just so we don’t offend.
We spend weeks arguing about food menus, but not even an hour discussing what kind of life we want to build together. We’re taught to host, not to listen. To perform, not to prepare.

3. The Person You Marry Becomes Secondary to the Event You Host

The wedding overshadows the actual human relationship beneath.

Ask most people what they remember from a wedding, and it’s rarely about the couple’s story—it’s about the venue, the outfits, the drama. Somehow, the very people getting married become background noise in their own ceremony.
And it’s not our fault entirely. We’ve grown up in a culture where weddings are not intimate unions, but public spectacles. And the sad part? No one teaches us what comes after the celebration.

4. Marriage Is Quiet Work. Weddings Are Loud Applause.

We rehearse the celebration, not the everyday relationship work.

Marriage is slow, unglamorous, deeply human. It’s choosing the same person when life isn’t Instagram-worthy. It’s shared routines, small negotiations, quiet compromises. Weddings are fireworks. Marriage is candlelight. But we only get trained for the show, not the everyday light.
We spend months planning the celebration, and almost no time preparing for the reality. As if the happily-ever-after writes itself once the guests leave.

5. When the Confetti Settles, What Are You Left With?

After the wedding ends, only the relationship truly remains.

After the last song fades and the last plate is cleared, you’re left with a person. Not a guest list. Not your lehenga. Not the photographer who airbrushed your tired eyes.
Just this one human being—flawed, evolving, hopeful—sitting next to you. The question is: Did you choose them? Or did you choose the wedding? Because the difference will show. Not on Day 1. But on Day 100. And Day 1,000.

Conclusion:We owe ourselves something deeper than a grand celebration. We owe ourselves reflection. A marriage is not a setpiece. It’s a lifelong mirror. It asks who you are when no one’s watching. So maybe the next time we talk about weddings, we ask fewer questions about colour palettes and more about compatibility. Maybe we stop applauding the entry and start noticing the effort. Maybe we remember: A good wedding is a memory. A good marriage is a life.
And you don’t need a drone camera for that. Just attention. Just honesty. Just the courage to choose a person over a performance. Because at the end of it all, you’re not marrying the mandap. You’re marrying the moment after it—when everyone’s gone, and it’s just the two of you, figuring it out. Together.