With the seven-month-long Ambani-Merchant wedding celebrations possibly concluding, it’s time to reflect on a few things. Critics have rightfully condemned the tone-deaf display of privilege showcased throughout the festivities by contrasting it with the stark reality of wealth inequality in India. Inequality is currently at an all-time high. Sociologically, the wedding also serves as a potent symbol of the ever-widening rich-poor divide for it exposes the obscene excesses enjoyed by one family, at the expense of thousands of others who simply try to make ends meet.
We are, after all, a nation grappling with a paradox: we are one of the fastest-growing economies in the world, yet also one of the most unequal. In India, the top 10 per cent holds a staggering 77 per cent of the total national wealth. This disparity is further underscored by another shocking statistic: it would take a minimum wage worker in rural India a mind-boggling 941 years to earn the same as a top-paid executive.
However, even amidst all this criticism, what seems to have gone unnoticed is the very banality of the Ambani-Merchant union and the disproportionate media attention that it has engendered for seemingly no apparent reason except it being a billionaire’s son’s wedding.
The Ambani-Merchant union is as mainstream as it gets. It is conventionally heterosexual and cisgender and doesn’t transgress caste, class, regional, linguistic, or religious lines. Both Ambani and Merchant even hail from the same state, Gujarat. Despite being advertised as a “love marriage” between childhood sweethearts, their relationship conveniently conforms to the established boundaries of social respectability. This conformity likely explains the widespread familial, religious, and political endorsements it has received from the powers that be, both domestically and globally.
The overwhelming media coverage of the wedding also exposes a glaring double standard in how adult intimacies are accorded differential social and legal privileges in India. The Supreme Court recently recognised the rights of “atypical” families in a landmark 2022 judgement. These families, defined as those differing from traditional family units, are entitled to equal protection under the law. The court acknowledged that “atypical manifestations of love and families” deserve legal recognition and social welfare benefits, akin to traditional families. These “atypical” families challenge the very social boundaries reinforced by the Ambani-Merchant union. Yet, such families routinely encounter negative treatment from the very same powerful forces that fuelled the media frenzy surrounding this extravagant event.
Take, for example, the public hate directed towards Bollywood actress Sonakshi Sinha when she announced her engagement to her lover, Zaheer Iqbal. Her perceived “crime”? Choosing a Muslim man as her life partner. Her decision to enter into an interfaith marriage sparked a vicious hate campaign online. So intense was the hate that Sinha and Iqbal were forced to disable comments on their Instagram marriage announcement. Some trolls even resorted to digging up old social media posts to target the couple further, while others purportedly sent the couple death threats, although the veracity of these threats remains unconfirmed.
Despite marrying under the Special Marriage Act of 1954 — a secular law that allows interfaith marriages without requiring religious conversion — trolls specifically targeted Iqbal for his Muslim faith and Sonakshi for choosing a Muslim partner. These trolls also made disturbing references to a refrigerator, as a cruel allusion to a recent, unrelated murder case involving a Muslim man who allegedly murdered his live-in Hindu partner. The trollers intentionally deployed Islamophobic tropes by latching onto the false narrative of “love jihad” that had been sensationalised by the media in the murder case. In doing so, trolls directed their hate towards Iqbal simply because he shared the same faith as the murderer.
But if the public scrutinises interfaith couples for the religion they profess, queer couples are vilified for simply professing their love to any person of their choice. The Prime Minister of India, Narendra Modi, spent more than two hours at the Ambani-Merchant wedding and even offered his blessings to the couple. Yet, he recently opposed legal efforts by the queer community seeking the right to marry and adopt — the same rights enjoyed by the Ambani-Merchant duo. The government has since established a high-level committee to address other issues affecting the queer community but has explicitly excluded queer relationships from its ambit. This stance is not only homophobic but also undermines India’s global image as a so-called “champion of democracy”. We must ask: what kind of values do we want to project to the world? And should these values tolerate discrimination on the basis of religion, sexuality and gender?
Furthermore, a litany of laws and social norms currently tolerate discrimination against adults based on caste and further marginalise interfaith, queer, and live-in couples. The 2021 Surrogacy Law, for example, not only banned commercial surrogacy but also excluded queer couples, live-in couples, and unmarried individuals from accessing any form of surrogacy, even for altruistic purposes. Adding to these challenges, the recent Supreme Court ruling against same-sex marriage also included a narrow 3-2 decision denying adoption rights to queer couples. Thus, as it stands now, queer couples can neither marry, adopt, nor avail of surrogacy services in the country.
Inter-caste couples also grapple with societal disapproval. A glance at the matrimonial sections of most leading newspapers reveals how “personal preferences” are often used to mask caste-based discrimination. These biases expose the hollowness of claims about India’s progress into a modern society, one in which social categories like caste, class, religion, and gender allegedly
play no role in hindering India’s progress and growth. The empirical reality shows the exact opposite is true. These markers define, rather explicitly, an individual’s growth trajectory and life course.
If anything, the over-the-top Ambani-Merchant wedding should prompt us to question the privilege accorded to conventional adult intimacies in India. We must ask why some relationships are celebrated while others are condemned; why is it that our social milieu is so resistant to expanding rights to consensual, adult queer relationships; and why interfaith and inter-caste relationships are still the exception and not the norm. Unless we ask these questions, we may continue to mindlessly celebrate the excesses of conventionality while simultaneously condemning “atypicality”. This risks perpetuating a system of thought and action that relegates “atypical” couples to the fringe and keeps them there, while the rest of society unfairly enjoys the benefits and freedoms that come with social acceptance and legal recognition.
(The author is a Communications Manager at Nyaaya, the Vidhi Centre for Legal Policy and can be reached at sahgalkanav@gmail.com)