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BRAIN ORGASM

Marriage is nothing but a socially accepted form of prostitution

BY OSHIN KAMLESH · 25 OCT 2026 · 13 MIN READ

An uncomfortable examination of marriage, patriarchy, money and the price women are expected to pay for love.

The title might sound outrageous, perhaps even offensive to some of you. But before you jump to conclusions, let's try to understand marriage itself. When did the concept of marriage evolve? Who created it? Was it a union of two people who loved each other, a religious obligation, a legal arrangement, or simply a social construct that human beings developed to organise their lives? And if marriage is supposed to be the ultimate expression of love, was love always the reason people got married?

Some of you might ask, who are you to question our personal choices? And that's a perfectly reasonable question. You have every right to choose your partner, marry or remain unmarried. Article 21 of the Indian Constitution, as interpreted by the Supreme Court, protects personal liberty and important aspects of an adult's right to choose an intimate partner. I have absolutely no intention of questioning your right to make that choice. But I do want to question something else. Are we making conscious choices, or are we following a system that society has taught us to accept without questioning? Are we choosing marriage because we genuinely understand and value the institution, or because we've been conditioned to believe that marriage is the natural destination of every successful relationship?

When Did Marriage Become About Love?

Let's travel back a few thousand years. Human beings lived, formed relationships, experienced affection, reproduced and raised children long before the existence of modern marriage laws and registration systems. There is no single identifiable inventor of marriage, and its origins cannot be reduced to one civilisation or one moment in history. Across different societies, marriage developed in different forms, frequently organising kinship, inheritance, reproduction, economic cooperation and alliances between families. In many historical settings, it was not simply a decision between two individuals who happened to love each other. Their families, communities, property and social obligations could have a significant role in determining whom they married.

Think about that for a moment. An institution that we frequently celebrate today as the ultimate expression of romantic love has historically served purposes that had little to do with romance. Love certainly existed, but being in love was not necessarily a condition for getting married. People married to preserve family wealth, establish relationships between households, secure inheritance and fulfil social expectations. Romantic choice became more central to marriage in certain societies over time, although the process varied considerably across cultures. So here's my question: if marriage developed partly to serve the social and economic needs of earlier societies, why do we still treat it as the inevitable destination of love today? We have changed our laws, our understanding of individual freedom and our expectations of equality. Shouldn't we also examine the institutions we inherited?

Why Is It Always the Woman Who Has to Leave?

Now let's look at a traditional Indian wedding. Two people are supposedly beginning a new life together. But what actually happens? In many communities, the woman leaves the home in which she grew up, says goodbye to her parents, moves into her husband's household and begins adjusting to an entirely new environment. She may be expected to understand his family's customs, accommodate their preferences, adapt to their routines and prioritise their expectations. The man, meanwhile, may continue living in the same house, with the same family, following the same routines, surrounded by the people he has known all his life.

Why? If marriage is the union of two equals, why is one person so often expected to uproot her entire life while the other is allowed to continue his? Why is a woman repeatedly told that marriage requires adjustment, sacrifice and compromise? Why are these lessons so often directed at daughters rather than sons? And why do we celebrate a woman's willingness to surrender her familiar surroundings as proof of her love and commitment? Of course, not every marriage follows this arrangement. Many couples establish independent households, and some men move to live with their partners. But the persistence of patrilocal expectations in many Indian communities raises a question worth examining. When we say two families are coming together, are they actually coming together, or is one woman being expected to assimilate into another family?

Consider the language we use. We tell a woman that she is going to her sasural, that she must adjust to her new family, that she should treat her husband's parents as her own. But how frequently do we place the same expectations on the husband? Is he equally expected to treat her parents as his responsibility, participate in their care and make comparable sacrifices? If marriage creates equal obligations, why do so many of our customs appear to distribute those obligations unequally?

Why Does a Woman Have to Change Her Identity?

Let's take something as ordinary as a surname. A woman is born, given a name, educated under that name, earns qualifications, develops a professional identity and builds a life of her own. Then she gets married, and in many families, she is expected to adopt her husband's surname. Why? What exactly does changing her name contribute to the quality of their relationship? Does it make her more committed, more trustworthy or more loving? And if sharing a surname is considered a symbol of unity, why is it usually the woman's surname that is expected to change? Why doesn't the man take hers? Why don't both retain their own names?

Let's also be clear about the law. An Indian woman is not legally required to change her surname merely because she gets married. It is a choice, not an automatic legal consequence of marriage. Yet social expectations can make an optional practice feel compulsory. And when a woman does change her name, the administrative consequences may extend to her passport, PAN records, bank accounts, employment records, insurance policies and other identity documents, depending on which records she chooses or needs to update. How often is a man expected to undertake the same exercise simply because he got married?

And this is where I want you to think beyond the paperwork. A name represents identity. It connects us to our education, career, personal history and the life we've built. If marriage is about two individuals coming together, why should either person be expected to surrender part of that identity? Isn't it strange that we talk about marriage as a partnership between equals while continuing to normalise traditions in which one person's identity is expected to accommodate the other's?

Dowry: When Did Love Come With a Price Tag?

Now let's address something that makes the institution of marriage particularly uncomfortable to examine: dowry. Imagine a father who has spent years raising his daughter, educating her and supporting her ambitions. She grows into an independent adult, capable of making her own decisions and building her own life. But when she decides to marry, her family may be expected to provide gold, cash, vehicles, property, furniture or expensive gifts to the groom or his family. Why? What exactly is being paid for? Is the groom offering a service? Is the bride's family compensating another household for accepting their daughter? Or have we become so accustomed to these transactions that we no longer recognise how degrading the underlying expectation can be?

Dowry is not merely an uncomfortable tradition. India enacted the Dowry Prohibition Act in 1961, prohibiting the giving, taking and demanding of dowry as defined by the law. The Act distinguishes prohibited dowry from certain voluntary marriage presents given without demand, subject to legal conditions. So when families defend expectations of wealth by saying, we aren't demanding dowry, we're only asking what you're willing to give, shouldn't we examine whether the payment is genuinely voluntary? If a marriage depends on the bride's family meeting a financial expectation, what makes that expectation meaningfully different from a demand?

And here's something else that bothers me. We sometimes hear people argue that gold given during marriage is for the daughter's financial security. But if financial security is genuinely the objective, why must it be associated with marriage? Why couldn't her parents support her education, help her build financial independence or transfer assets directly into her name without connecting them to a wedding? Why should a woman's financial security be measured by the jewellery she carries into her husband's household rather than by the property she legally owns and controls? Giving a daughter a voluntary gift is not inherently wrong. But when giving becomes an expectation, and that expectation influences whether someone will marry her, are we witnessing generosity or a transaction disguised as tradition?

If a woman is educated, independent, capable of earning her own living and entitled to inherit property, why should her family have to provide an additional financial incentive for someone to marry her? And if a man genuinely loves a woman, why should her family's wealth have anything to do with whether he chooses to spend his life with her?

A Wife, a Daughter-in-Law, or an Unpaid Worker?

Marriage doesn't end with the wedding ceremony. In many households, that is when another set of expectations begins. A woman may be expected to cook, clean, maintain the house, care for children, look after elderly relatives, manage family obligations and provide emotional support to everyone around her. Some women do this while also working full-time. Yet how frequently do we recognise these responsibilities as labour? And if both husband and wife are employed, why is domestic work still so often treated as primarily the woman's responsibility?

This isn't simply a matter of personal observation. India's Time Use Survey 2024 provides evidence of unequal domestic workloads. Among people aged six and above who performed unpaid domestic services, female participants spent an average of 289 minutes per day on those activities, compared with 88 minutes for male participants. That's more than three times as much time among those performing the activities. The survey measures unpaid work across the population, not exclusively within marriages, but it demonstrates a broader gender imbalance that deserves attention.

Now imagine a woman who works eight hours at her job, returns home, prepares dinner, washes dishes, manages the household and looks after her children. Her husband also works eight hours, returns home and rests. Both are employed. Both contribute financially. But one is expected to perform an additional shift of unpaid labour. Is that equality? And when she questions the arrangement, why is she sometimes accused of neglecting her responsibilities as a wife?

I'm not suggesting that caring for one's family is exploitation. Caring for people we love can be meaningful and fulfilling. But there is an enormous difference between voluntarily sharing responsibilities and being assigned those responsibilities because of one's gender. If a woman is expected to provide domestic labour because she is a wife, while a man is praised for occasionally helping with his own household, what exactly does that reveal about our understanding of equality?

The Price of Being a Good Wife

Now let's consider a phrase that many Indian women have heard at some point: you have to adjust. It sounds harmless, doesn't it? After all, every relationship requires compromise. But compromise is supposed to work in both directions. What happens when adjusting means tolerating disrespect, sacrificing a career, distancing oneself from friends, accepting restrictions on clothing or movement, or remaining silent to avoid conflict with in-laws? At what point does adjustment stop being a mutual responsibility and become an expectation of obedience?

Why do some families raise daughters to be accommodating and sons to expect accommodation? Why is an assertive woman sometimes described as difficult, while an assertive man is considered confident? And why does society sometimes treat a woman's ability to tolerate unhappiness as evidence of her strength rather than question the conditions causing that unhappiness?

The consequences can be far more serious than unequal household expectations. According to India's National Family Health Survey, NFHS-5 (2019–21), approximately 29% of ever-married women aged 18–49 reported having experienced physical or sexual violence by a husband. That is a deeply disturbing finding. It does not mean marriage itself causes abuse, nor that every marriage is unsafe. But it challenges the assumption that being married automatically provides women with protection, dignity or security. If marriage is celebrated as a sacred institution, shouldn't protecting the rights, safety and autonomy of the individuals within it matter more than preserving the institution at any cost?

When Marriage Becomes an Exchange, What Are We Actually Celebrating?

Let's bring these questions together. In some marriages, the woman's family is expected to provide wealth. The woman is expected to leave her home, adapt to another family, possibly change her name, undertake domestic responsibilities, bear children and preserve the family's reputation. In return, the marriage is often presented as offering social legitimacy, companionship, financial stability and security. Not every marriage involves these expectations, and many couples reject them entirely. But where they do exist, what kind of arrangement are we looking at?

This is where the title of this article comes into the picture. When I describe marriage as a socially accepted form of prostitution, I'm not claiming that every wife is a sex worker or that every husband purchases his partner. That would be both inaccurate and unfair to women, including sex workers. My criticism is directed at arrangements in which a woman's sexuality, reproductive capacity, domestic labour and obedience are treated as obligations exchanged for financial support, family acceptance or social legitimacy.

But we must be careful with the comparison. Marriage and prostitution are not interchangeable institutions. A consensual marriage does not inherently involve the purchase of sexual access, and financial interdependence does not automatically make intimacy transactional. The comparison becomes relevant when marriage is organised around coercive expectations, economic dependency and unequal control over a woman's body or choices. When a woman is expected to exchange her autonomy and labour for security and social acceptance, why do we romanticise the arrangement instead of questioning the inequality?

And this brings us to an even more fundamental question. If we truly believe marriage is about love, why do we tolerate practices that appear to contradict love's most basic requirements: dignity, consent, freedom and equality?

If Two People Love Each Other, Why Must They Marry?

Finally, let's imagine two adults who genuinely love each other. They are financially independent, emotionally committed, supportive of each other's ambitions and perfectly happy sharing their lives. They have no interest in organising a wedding or participating in religious rituals. They don't want to exchange dowry, change surnames or subscribe to traditional gender roles. They simply want to be together. Why shouldn't that be enough?

Some might argue that marriage provides legal protections, and that's true. Marriage can establish important rights and responsibilities involving inheritance, maintenance, property and family relationships. Those protections are meaningful, particularly for people who might otherwise be economically vulnerable. But does that mean the institution should be socially compulsory? Could we not imagine legal frameworks that protect individuals and their relationships without requiring everyone to follow the same model of family life?

And if the purpose of marriage today is supposedly love, why must love be validated through marriage? Does a wedding ceremony make someone more faithful? Does a marriage certificate guarantee mutual respect? Does taking someone's surname demonstrate devotion? Does spending enormous amounts of money on a wedding make a relationship stronger? Or have we confused the public celebration of a relationship with the actual quality of that relationship?

I am not arguing that people should stop getting married. Two people who understand the institution, reject its inequalities and freely choose marriage have every right to do so. But those who choose not to marry deserve exactly the same respect. A relationship should not become less legitimate simply because the people involved refuse to follow a socially approved script.

Perhaps the problem isn't love. Perhaps it isn't even the act of two people committing to each other. Perhaps the problem is that we have inherited an institution shaped by unequal social and economic arrangements and, instead of critically examining those arrangements, we continue to celebrate them as unquestionable traditions.

So before you ask someone when they're getting married, perhaps ask yourself something first. If two people can love, respect, support and remain committed to each other without marriage, what exactly is marriage adding to their relationship? And if the answer is social approval, shouldn't we be questioning the society that demands it rather than the couple who chooses to live without it?

After all, the freedom to marry means very little if we cannot equally respect the freedom not to marry.

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