The Forgotten Simplicity of a Kashmiri Nikah

Between social media trends and extravagant customs, the meaning of a Kashmiri marriage is being lost. One scholar calls for a return to roots.

- Dr. Rameez Ahmad

People don't talk about it openly, but you can feel the strain. You see it in the subtle hesitations of fathers. You hear it in the nervous laughter of young men unsure how to afford marriage. You catch it in the eyes of daughters waiting for years. Not for love, but for someone who can afford their wedding.

Weddings in Kashmir weren't always like this. They used to be small, spiritual, and shared. Families gathered for a simple nikah, a home-cooked meal, maybe a song or two. Now, the ceremonies stretch for days. The expectations stretch for miles. And the budgets? They break people.

In the past decade, we've seen a cultural shift. Or maybe, a cultural crisis. Today's Kashmiri wedding often comes with multiple pre-wedding events: sue saal, phir saal, ring ceremonies, mehndi raat, manzim yoor, and more. None of these are essential. Most aren't Islamic. Some aren't even originally Kashmiri.

"They've turned into a race," a father from Pulwama told me. "If one family gives gold bangles, the next gives bracelets, a necklace, and a watch. If someone serves 20 dishes, others feel ashamed to serve 15. We're not feeding guests anymore. We're feeding comparison."

The heart of it lies in wazwan - the multi-course Kashmiri feast. Once a treat, it's now a measure of status. Imported drinks, dry fruits, layered cakes, floral tunnels, candle parades, and flashy decor are seen not as indulgences, but necessities. This obsession with grandeur isn’t just about food or fashion, it's reshaping how people live and when, or even if, they marry.