Ashfaq Zehgeer
“A wedding is an occasion. Marriage is a life. Let us not spend the future to decorate one night.”
The cycle of social comparison
One lavish wedding raises the standard for the next.
The next family feels pressure to match it.
Another family tries to exceed it.
Soon, what began as one family’s personal choice becomes a social expectation.
And those who cannot afford the competition may feel ashamed.
This is why changing our language matters.
Instead of saying: “Kya zabardast shaadithi!” only because the wedding was expensive, perhaps we should also admire “What a beautiful, dignified and well-organised wedding.”
Instead of praising the quantity of food, let us appreciate thoughtful hospitality.
Instead of admiring the size of the expenditure, let us admire wisdom and generosity.
Society changes when society changes what it chooses to celebrate.
If extravagance receives applause while simplicity receives ridicule, families will continue competing.
But if a dignified, timely, responsible and warm wedding receives equal—or greater—social respect, the pressure will gradually weaken.
Hospitality should not become overfeeding
Kashmiri hospitality is something we should be proud of. But hospitality is not measured by how many times we feed a guest before the actual meal.
If Wazwaan is the main meal, perhaps we do not need several rounds of substantial refreshments beforehand.
The principle can be simple serve with love, serve appropriately, serve according to need, avoid waste.
Generosity does not require excess.
A guest does not feel more loved simply because he or she has been served repeatedly to the point of discomfort.
Sometimes, the most thoughtful hospitality is knowing when enough is enough.
Respect your guests’ time
There is another habit that deserves serious reflection: making guests wait for hours.
An invitation may say 1:00 PM while the meal is served much later.
Among the guests may be elderly people, children, students, working professionals, people who have travelled long distances and those with health limitations.
Hospitality is not merely about placing food before someone.
Hospitality also means respecting people’s time, health and dignity.
If the meal is expected at 4:00 PM, communicate accordingly.
If a baraat is likely to begin late, consider the effect on hundreds of people.
Starting functions on time and avoiding unnecessary delays would make weddings more comfortable for everyone.
Punctuality is not a Western concept. It is simply respect.
A celebration should not come at the cost of fard and responsibility
For a Muslim society, there is an even deeper consideration.
If wedding arrangements routinely stretch towards Fajr, we should ask whether we have lost sight of the proper balance between celebration and responsibility.
A celebration should not become so exhausting that people miss, delay or neglect their religious obligations.
Prophet (PBUH) said: “The two rak’ahs of Fajr are better than the world and all that it contains.” (Sahih Muslim)
Nor should unnecessarily waiting and late-night travel be accepted simply with the argument:
“This is how weddings are done.”
Tradition can guide us, but it should not become an excuse for abandoning moderation.
Deen should guide culture—not the other way around.
There is also an environmental cost
Large celebrations consume enormous amounts of food, water, electricity, fuel, packaging and transport.
When food is wasted, we are also wasting the water, energy, labour and resources that went into producing it.
Excessive decorations generate additional waste. Long-running events consume more electricity. Late-night transportation uses more fuel.
A responsible society should recognise that waste is not only financially expensive.
It is environmentally expensive too.
Even small changes like better planning, reusable materials, sensible quantities and responsible disposal can make a meaningful difference.
We may not be able to eliminate every form of waste, but we can certainly stop treating waste as a sign of abundance.
Let us also think about the people who make our weddings possible
Behind every large wedding are cooks, servers, cleaners, drivers, decorators and other workers.
When an event continues until Fajr, someone has to work until Fajr.
When food is prepared in excessive quantities, someone has to cook it.
When an elaborate venue has to be dismantled late at night, someone has to do that work.
We should therefore consider the human cost of unnecessary extravagance.
A simpler, better-organised wedding can sometimes mean greater dignity not only for the hosts and guests, but also for the workers who make the celebration possible.
If we truly value hospitality, we should also value the people who enable us to offer it.
The poor should not become invisible
A Walimah should bring people together, not reinforce social hierarchy.
The influential guest should not automatically matter more than the poor neighbour.
The wealthy acquaintance should not take precedence over the needy relative.
The person without status should not feel invisible.
The beauty of a feast is not simply in how much food is served or which prominent people occupy the best seats.
It is also in who was remembered, who was welcomed and who felt respected.
A truly beautiful wedding should leave the poor and ordinary guest feeling just as valued as the influential one.
Perhaps we need to remember that hospitality has little meaning if it is designed primarily for those whose presence enhances our social image.
What if we turned savings into something beautiful?
Imagine a different kind of wedding culture.
A family saves Rs 2 lakh by reducing unnecessary expenditure.
Another saves Rs 5 lakh.
Another saves Rs 10 lakh.
Nobody is asked to give away all that money.
But a portion could perhaps be used to educate a poor child, support an orphan, assist someone with medical expenses, help a student, provide winter relief or simply give the newly married couple a stronger financial beginning.
Would that not also be a form of celebration?
Flowers may disappear within a day.
Decorations may be dismantled the next morning.
A lavish menu may be forgotten within weeks.
But a student’s education can last a lifetime.
Medical assistance can save a family from despair.
Financial stability can give a young couple years of peace.
The most beautiful expenditure may sometimes be the expenditure that continues to benefit people after the wedding is over.
This does not mean that every wedding must become a charitable project.
It simply means that we should recognise the difference between expenditure that creates a momentary impression and expenditure that creates lasting value.
A cultural reset can begin with one family
We do not need a government order to reform our wedding culture.
Change can begin with individual families.
Imagine if more families decided:
• Our baraat will start on time.
• Our Nikah will not be unnecessarily delayed.
• Our Wazwaan will be served at a reasonable hour.
• We will reduce unnecessary pre-meal feeding.
• We will prepare food according to realistic requirements.
• We will minimise food and packaging waste.
• We will not borrow simply to impress society.
• We will respect elderly guests, children and workers.
• We will try to conclude the function before midnight.
• We will remember poorer relatives and neighbours.
• We will never make another family feel inferior because its wedding is simple.
Most importantly: We will stop rewarding extravagance with admiration.
If society stops asking, “How much did they spend?” and starts asking, “Was the occasion meaningful, responsible and blessed?”, the culture will gradually change.
We do not need to abolish tradition—we need to remove the excess
Our Kashmiri culture is precious.
Wazwaan is precious.
Hospitality is precious.
Family gatherings are precious.
Tash Naar is precious.
But traditions survive not because we preserve every excess that accumulates around them.
They survive because we preserve their meaning.
Let us keep our Nikah.
Let us keep our Wazwaan.
Let us keep our Tash Naar.
Let us keep our Kashmiri hospitality.
Let us keep our family gatherings.
Let us keep the warmth, emotion and joy.
But let us gradually leave behind:
unnecessary waiting,
social competition,
food wastage,
avoidable debt,
overfeeding,
excessive packaging,
obsession with status,
and the constant fear of “What will people say?”
Let us bring back the meaning of nikah
Perhaps the most important change is not in the menu or the venue.
It is in our mindset.
We need to replace: “Log kya kahenge?” with “Allah kya pasand karega?”
That one change in thinking can transform everything.
It can influence what we spend, how much food we prepare, how long we keep people waiting, whom we invite, how we treat workers, whether we incur debt and whether our celebration brings benefit or merely creates an impression.
The purpose is not to judge families who choose to celebrate generously.
People have different means, circumstances and preferences.
Nor should anyone feel guilty for spending within their legitimate means.
The concern begins when social pressure forces people to spend beyond their means, waste resources or compete merely to maintain appearances.
That is the cycle we should break.
Simplicity should not be mocked
A simple wedding does not necessarily mean that a family could not afford a grand one.
It may mean that the family chose:
wisdom over pressure,
responsibility over display,
future security over one night’s applause.
There is dignity in that choice.
A family that spends less should not be assumed to have less.
Perhaps it has simply chosen differently.
Perhaps the parents have decided that the money is better used for their children’s future.
Perhaps the young couple would rather begin married life without debt.
Perhaps they understand that photographs, decorations and elaborate menus fade, while financial security, education and peace continue.
The family that chooses simplicity should not be mocked. It should be respected.
That is how a cultural reset begins.
A wedding is an occasion, Marriage is a life
This is perhaps the central message of this entire discussion.
A wedding is one day.
Marriage is a journey.
We should therefore invest more in the future of the couple than in the appearance of one evening.
Let us give young couples not only photographs to remember their wedding by, but also financial stability to build their lives upon.
Let us give guests not only food, but also comfort and dignity.
Let us preserve not only our traditions, but also the values behind them.
Let us make our weddings occasions of gratitude rather than anxiety, generosity rather than competition, and happiness rather than pressure.
Kashmir does not need less happiness.
Kashmir needs less extravagance.
We do not need to abandon our traditions.
We need to bring back their meaning.
Perhaps the best wedding is not the one where guests say “What a grand arrangement!” Perhaps the best wedding is the one where they say “What a beautiful Nikah. What warm hospitality. What little waste. What happiness. And Alhamdulillah, we reached home on time.”
That is not a lesser wedding.
That may be a wedding with greater Barakah.
Let us celebrate marriage, not money
There is nothing wrong with a beautiful wedding.
There is something wrong when beauty becomes synonymous with extravagance.
There is nothing wrong with feeding guests generously.
There is something wrong when generosity ends in unnecessary waste.
There is nothing wrong with celebrating happiness.
There is something wrong when our celebration becomes another family’s burden.
There is nothing wrong with preserving Wazwaan.
There is something wrong when Wazwaan becomes a competition of quantity.
There is nothing wrong with spending according to one’s means.
There is something wrong with spending beyond one’s means merely to satisfy society.
Perhaps, therefore, we should stop measuring weddings by:
How many dishes were served?
How expensive was the hall?
How elaborate were the decorations?
How costly were the clothes?
How impressive were the gift boxes?
And start asking:
Were guests respected?
Was food wasted?
Were the poor remembered?
Was unnecessary debt avoided?
Were religious responsibilities respected?
Was money spent wisely?
Was the couple given a secure beginning?
Was Barakah sought?
These are better measures of a successful celebration.
The wedding should be remembered for its dua, not its bill
Years from now, very few people will remember whether a wedding had thirty dishes or forty.
They will not remember the exact decoration.
They may not remember the cost of the dry-fruit boxes.
They will not remember how expensive the hall was.
But the newly married couple may remember whether they began their life with debt or stability.
The parents may remember whether the wedding brought peace or financial anxiety.
The guests may remember whether they were treated with warmth or kept waiting for hours.
And what ultimately matters to a believer is that Allah knows the intention, the spending, the waste, the generosity and the sincerity behind it all.
That is what should matter most.
A final appeal
Let us not turn Nikah into Numaaish.
Let us not allow social comparison to turn happiness into pressure.
Let us not allow one family’s extravagance to become another family’s burden.
Let us not allow food to become waste, hospitality to become overfeeding or tradition to become debt.
Let us celebrate according to our means.
Let us welcome guests generously but responsibly.
Let us respect their time.
Let us remember the poor.
Let us value the workers who make our celebrations possible.
Let us protect our environment from unnecessary waste.
Let us give young couples a stronger financial beginning.
And above all, let us remember that Barakah is not measured by the size of a wedding bill.
A marriage does not become more blessed because more money was spent on its celebration.
Its beauty lies in the sincerity of the Nikah, the kindness between the couple, the prayers of their families, the respect shown to guests and the life they build together.
Our culture deserves celebration.
Our faith teaches moderation.
Our society needs responsibility.
Let the Nikah be filled with Dua.
Let the Wazwaan be served with generosity.
Let the guests be treated with dignity.
Let the poor be remembered.
Let food be respected.
Let debt be avoided.
Let the couple begin their new life with peace rather than pressure.
And let us replace the question:
“What will people say?”
with the far more meaningful question:
“What would Allah be pleased with?”
Perhaps that is the cultural change Kashmir needs—not less happiness, but more wisdom; not less hospitality, but less waste; not less tradition, but less excess.
A wedding is an occasion. Marriage is a life.
Let us not spend the future to decorate one night.
Let us not turn blessings into burdens.
Let us not allow competition to overpower simplicity.
Let us not waste today what could relieve someone’s distress tomorrow.
Let our weddings be remembered not for the money they displayed, but for the Barakah, dignity, compassion and happiness they created.
May Allah put Barakah in our marriages, protect our families from extravagance and unnecessary debt, help us respect every blessing, remember those in distress, and guide our society towards simplicity, responsibility, compassion and dignity. Aameen.
(The author is career advisor and social commentator. He can be reached at [email protected])
