Dowry is illegal and openly criticised, but that doesn’t mean it has vanished from society. It has only changed its form. Today, it rarely shows up as an outright demand. Instead, it quietly enters weddings
as “gifts,” dressed up to suit modern, educated sensibilities.
During matrimonial discussions, families often say, almost proudly, “We don’t believe in dowry. We have no demands at all.” And then comes the line that changes everything: “Of course, you can give whatever you want to your daughter.”
On the surface, it sounds generous. In reality, it creates unspoken pressure on the bride’s family to prove their love, status, and sincerity by doing the “best” they can. When nothing is asked for, everything is silently expected.
This idea of “no demand” is simply a dowry in disguise, a social expectation wrapped in polite words and good intentions.
From Demand To Display: The Evolution Of Dowry
Today, dowry rarely announces itself openly. It arrives quietly wrapped in gift paper, masked as “tradition,” and justified as “our way of showing love.” What was once demanded is now expected. What was once coerced is now performed. And in this transformation, dowry has found a safer, more socially acceptable form.
The family of a young woman from Noida who got married nearly a year ago “gifted” more than Rs 10 lakh in cash, a modest compact SUV, and several other household items, along with gold jewellery, to the groom and his family despite there being no formal “demand” for dowry.
Nothing was asked for openly. No conditions were placed. Yet, the expectations were clearly understood, quietly fulfilled, and socially accepted.
In another case, a young woman from Rajasthan, married nearly three years ago, left for her in-laws’ home carrying extra suitcases apart from her personal belongings. These suitcases were not hers in the usual sense. They were filled with clothes for relatives, envelopes of money, and pieces of jewellery; items traditionally expected to accompany the bride as “gifts.”
No one called it dowry. But everyone knew it was part of what she was supposed to bring. Clothes, jewellery, household items, and envelopes of money, often referred to as ‘shagun’, are simply called gifts.
But gifts given under pressure are not gifts at all. They are obligations, carefully choreographed to avoid legal scrutiny while meeting unspoken benchmarks. How much gold? Which brand of car? How lavish should the wedding look? The questions are rarely asked, and answers are seldom verbalised, yet everyone seems to know.
The Language Of “Choice”
Perhaps the most insidious change in the “tradition” of dowry is the narrative of choice. Families now insist, “We gave it willingly,” or “We wanted to do this for our daughter.” The absence of an explicit demand from the groom’s side becomes proof of their innocence.
But how voluntary is a choice shaped by fear of social judgment? When parents worry their daughter might be “undervalued” if the wedding looks modest, or that relatives will whisper about stinginess, generosity becomes compulsory. The line between love and liability blurs.
In this version of dowry, the burden shifts subtly from coercion by the groom’s family to self-policing by the bride’s.
Old Practice, New Address
The word dowry often makes it sound like a crude, outdated practice limited to backward or rural parts of the country. But dowry was never only a rural problem. In educated, urban households, it has survived, just in a more polished form.
That is why the practice of giving “gifts” to a daughter and her new family is not new at all. It is simply dowry, softened by language and wrapped in respectability.
The groom may insist he “doesn’t believe in dowry,” yet the wedding unfolds exactly as tradition dictates. The gifts arrive. The expenses are borne asymmetrically. Silence becomes complicity.
Studies also show how uneven this exchange of “gifts” really is. A 2021 BBC report, citing research on nearly 40,000 marriages across 17 Indian states, found that the groom’s family spent an average of about Rs 5,000 on gifts to the bride’s family.
In contrast, the bride’s family spent nearly seven times more around Rs 32,000, on cash and items given to the groom’s side, resulting in a net dowry of roughly Rs 27,000.
While these figures are drawn from rural marriages between 1960 and 2008, researchers note that in the absence of major structural changes, the underlying pattern remains largely the same even today.
The Pressure To Look Prosperous
Scroll through wedding posts on social media, and a pattern quickly emerges. Every ritual is photographed. Every gift is displayed. Every detail becomes content, and within this constant performance, you can witness dowry quietly thriving in the age of Instagram weddings.
Lavish weddings are no longer private affairs; they are public statements. A spectacle of success. A declaration of status. And with this performance comes pressure to match, if not outdo, what others have done.
In this economy of comparison, weddings stop being about union and start resembling exhibitions. The bride’s family becomes the primary sponsor of a socially acceptable fantasy.
The Legal Blind Spot
India’s anti-dowry laws are clear, but this rebranding makes enforcement difficult. When transactions are labelled gifts, intent becomes hard to prove. Consent, even if socially manufactured, provides legal cover.
This grey area allows dowry to flourish without consequence, socially endorsed, and legally elusive.
The real danger of this new face of dowry is not just its persistence, but its invisibility. Calling it a gift does not change what it does. It still drains families financially. It still measures a bride’s worth in material terms. It still reinforces inequality at the very moment two people are meant to begin as equals.
Dowry has not vanished. It has adapted. And until we question the “normal” expectations wrapped in celebration and custom, it will continue to thrive quietly, politely, and devastatingly. Because when a gift is expected, it is no longer a gift. It is dowry by another name.
