In India, matchmaking remains deeply interwoven with parental approval, caste and community considerations, and, often, matchmaking professionals balancing discretion with centuries-old social hierarchies.

So we sat down with Sima Taparia, Mumbai’s most well-known matchmaker (and the face behind Netflix’s hit Indian Matchmaking), to peek under the veil: how does her practice evolve when Western individualism, diaspora clients, and the glittering world of HNIs rub shoulders with Indian tradition?

Taparia starts with emphasizing that her matchmaking began in 2005, long before Netflix’s impetus. Her own arranged marriage (1983) was orchestrated by family, “my aunt was a cupid,” she says, but as relatives retreated from matchmaking, she stepped in professionally. “It is a service like any other, caterer, decorator,” she explained, emphasizing that privacy is paramount. “Profiles are not leaked … people come to me for secrecy.” Since the show aired, enquiries “increased many folds,” 

She underlines a universal truth: “People come with their list of expectations,” be it from friends, family, or Bollywood. The challenge? Convincing clients to lower the bar. “Be happy when 60–70% is met,” she advises—a line resonating powerfully online. For many, this reframing of “perfection” as an unattainable myth could be both pragmatic and unsettling.

Modern youth, old-school compromises

Taparia observes that “today’s youth are educated, focused, and financially independent. They want everything in a person—which is not possible.” And while that empowerment is progress, she also flags what she believes is a lack of patience. “Now a days the youth have low patience … more divorces.” She emphasizes the role of horoscope compatibility and, sometimes, “a good courtship” in avoiding breakdowns.

In HNI circles, wealth hardly disparages, it’s assumed. “HNIs try to match with other HNIs—thinking is similar, social circles similar.” Dowry is dismissed; grandeur is celebrated. “All they want is a wedding for guests to remember”: lavish feasts, elaborate decor, multi-day ceremonies.

Taparia acknowledges that while emotional intelligence and professional ambition are desirable, the youth’s impatience leads to rising divorce rates, even after a decade of marriage, necessitating second marriages or companion-seeking. Yet for her, arranged marriages remain central. Family engagement in the process ensures support during friction: “In this type of marriage … the family is there to help.”

Despite global exposure, Taparia continues to work “within religion/community lines”—Hindu, same food habits, same festivals, same social circles. She believes that familiarity fosters satisfaction and ease—even for diaspora clients in the US, UK, Middle East, or Israel, where Indian matchmaking traditions still thrive. Her emphasis on grand, memorable weddings—replete with lavish spreads and elaborate decor—raises questions about whether spectacle is starting to overshadow substance. Taken together, her views reflect a worldview deeply rooted in hierarchy, where wealth, social networks, and family involvement still take precedence over emotional readiness or modern ideals of partnership.