A Reflection on Khandani Identity, Changing Marriage Choices,And The Lens Through Which We Judge One Another…DR.FIAZ MAQBOOL FAZILI
Dr. Fiaz Maqbool Fazili–
What makes a surname marriage-worthy—and can a family name tell us more about a person than their character? In Kashmir, the decades-old mindset of status as “khandani “ (syn.a sort of special class or elitism) can quietly shape matrimonial choices, turning inherited identity into a measure of worth. The real question for Badalta Kashmir is whether we protect the values that sustain families or preserve social hierarchies that deserve a second look.
Traditions do matter. So do dignity, compatibility, family identity, traits, and personal character. The difficulty begins when lineage outweighs the very qualities that make a marriage endure.
This question always baffles me: Can a surname make someone more worthy of marriage—or is “Khandani” pride simply social prejudice dressed up as family honor? The Lens, Not the Label. In Kashmir, a family name can open doors for one person and close them for another before anyone considers character, compatibility, or conduct. The human cost is real: worthy matches are rejected, young people are denied a voice, and families are wounded by the very traditions meant to protect them. When lineage outweighs merit, we are not preserving heritage; we are perpetuating hierarchy. Badalta Kashmir must ask: are we choosing life partners or guarding inherited privilege?
We inherit beliefs so early in life that we rarely pause to question them. They come to us through family conversations, community customs, matrimonial discussions, and unspoken social lessons. Over time, they shape how we see the world. Among Kashmiris, one such idea is Khandani. Like many others, including this writer, I grew up with a sense of pride in lineage and family identity. Alongside it came a familiar Kashmiri proverb:”Zaatchi gatch zattay aasin.”A patch of silk should not be stitched onto cotton. The meaning was clear: like should marry like. Families should stay within familiar social circles. Status, background, and lineage should align. For generations, this reasoning appeared sensible. Yet every generation eventually faces a difficult question: are we preserving timeless values, or simply repeating assumptions from another era? This is not an argument against family, heritage, or tradition. It is an invitation to reflect on whether some of the lenses through which we judge prospective spouses still serve their original purpose. A mirror’s purpose is not to accuse. A mirror’s purpose is to help us see.
One of the most enduring guests at Kashmir’s matrimonial table is the notion of Khandani. At its best, the word refers to good upbringing, family values, and social reputation. These are legitimate concerns. Every parent wants to know the environment a son or daughter will enter. But somewhere along the journey, concern for values can quietly become a hierarchy of people.
Khandani versus non-Khandani. “Our people” versus “others. “People may evaluate a proposal by ancestry, surname, or perceived social standing before giving the individual’s character equal attention. Yet character is not inherited through bloodlines. A respected family may produce an arrogant child, while a modest household may nurture a person of exceptional dignity, faith, and integrity.
The issue, therefore, is not whether family background matters. It certainly does. The question is whether it should outweigh the qualities of the person standing before us. The contradiction becomes particularly visible when we look at Kashmiri families living outside Kashmir. Many of the same social divisions that appear rigid at home often become remarkably flexible in Delhi, Bengaluru, Mumbai, Dubai, London, Toronto, or New York. Families that might never have interacted socially in their native towns become close friends abroad. Matrimonial boundaries that once seemed immovable suddenly become negotiable. Why? Have values changed? Have morals changed? Or have circumstances encouraged a different way of seeing people?
The diaspora experience offers an interesting lesson. Living as minorities in larger societies often shifts attention from lineage to education, character, professional achievement, shared values, and mutual respect. Distance sometimes reveals what proximity conceals. Perhaps the world has changed people less than it has changed their perspective. At the same time, marriage itself is changing.
The rise of educated and financially independent women has transformed the matrimonial equation. Increasingly, women are not asking, “Can he provide for me?” but rather, “Can we build a life together? “That shift should not be viewed as a rejection of marriage. It is a redefinition of partnership.
Many women today bring education, careers, financial stability, and aspirations into marriage. They seek not guardianship but companionship. Equally, many young men feel increasingly judged through a narrow lens of income, designation, property, and employment status.
Modern matrimonial discussions often resemble recruitment interviews. Government job? Excellent.Permanent position? Even better. Property? Additional advantage. Character? We’ll discuss that later.
Economic stability matters. Marriage requires responsibility. Yet somewhere along the way, we have started mistaking financial credentials for personal qualities.
A salary can pay bills. It cannot teach kindness. A designation can command authority. It cannot guarantee emotional maturity. A large house may provide comfort.It cannot create peace. Yet families frequently investigate a résumé more carefully than a temperament.
Social media has amplified this tendency. Today’s ideal spouse is often expected to be educated, attractive, professionally successful, financially secure, religious, modern, family-oriented, independent, and somehow entirely free of complications. The search for compatibility increasingly resembles the search for a perfectly customized product. The problem is obvious. Perfection does not exist.
Neither the perfect husband nor the perfect wife is waiting around the next corner. What exists are imperfect human beings who can build meaningful relationships through trust, patience, communication, and compromise. This may explain a paradox visible across society. Families worry that young people are marrying later. Young people complain that finding suitable proposals is hard. Yet when proposals arrive, reasons for rejection multiply. Wrong profession. Wrong location. Wrong family. Wrong income. Wrong expectations.Wrong social background.Sometimes, simply the wrong “vibe.”
The issue is not that standards exist. Standards are necessary. The question is whether our standards help us identify compatible partners or merely eliminate good people.
Perhaps nowhere is this more evident than in matrimonial profiles. Pages are filled with degrees, designations, property details, family networks, and social credentials. Yet surprisingly little attention is devoted to qualities that sustain a marriage over decades: Honesty. Humility. Good manners. Reliability. Compassion. Faith. Emotional maturity. Resilience, tolerance, Caring. We have become remarkably thorough in documenting what a person possesses and strangely careless about understanding who that person is. Ultimately, Kashmir’s challenge is not a conflict between tradition and modernity.It is a struggle to distinguish between values and vanity, heritage and hierarchy, character and classification.
Parents seek continuity. Children seek autonomy. Families seek reassurance. Young couples seek compatibility. None of these aspirations is inherently wrong. The real question is whether we have let labels become more important than the values they were meant to represent.
The Kashmiri proverb “Zaachi gatch zattay aasin” may have reflected the realities of another age. Today’s world tells a more complex story. Silk and cotton frequently work, study, socialize, and succeed together. They build families together too. Before asking what has changed in the next generation, perhaps we should ask what assumptions remain unchanged in ourselves.
If two families are equally decent, equally educated, equally moral, and equally God-conscious, what exactly makes them unequal because of a surname?
That is not a question about marriage alone. It is a question about how we measure human worth. And perhaps true nobility lies not in the names we inherit, but in the fairness, humility, and wisdom with which we judge others.
