Adjusting to a new life: How inter-district marriages are faring in the country
Inter-district marriages are common in the country, giving birth to interesting stories, most of which are related to differences in food habits, language, wedding rituals, and how the children will be raised
It was a love marriage between Jabed Jahangir Rasel, who works in an NGO, and Mowrin Mostafa, who works for the United Nations. Rasel is from Cox's Bazar, a southern region of the country, while Mowrin is from the western region of Ishwardi.
Mowrin was taken aback by the amount of money mentioned in their kabin-namah (Islamic marriage contract). She simply could not believe that the usual amount of kabin in the Chattogram region was three times more than that in the Pabna-Ishwardi region.
As a new wife, when her in-laws indulged in conversation, she would stare blankly because not a single word sounded familiar.
And when she sat for dinner, it turned out her in-laws ate atap chal (sun-dried rice grains), compared to the sheddho chal (parboiled rice grains) she ate at her home.
Soon, Mowrin realised what a challenge she was posed with after marrying a guy from a different district.
But of course, she is not alone. Inter-district marriages are common in the country, giving birth to many interesting stories. Many of them are related to differences in food habits, language, wedding rituals and how the children will be raised.
When it comes to making adjustments in an inter-district marriage, women have to face these challenges way more than their husbands.
In earlier days, there was a certain reluctance among families in accepting a son-in-law or daughter-in-law who was not from their district, but the situation is changing nowadays.
The language factor
Rakhi is from Chattogram while her husband Tanim is from Noakhali. They got married in 2007.
The day after the wedding, as Rakhi was pouring tea for everyone at her in-laws' place, she saw Tanim leaving the house. She blurted out, "Tui hode jodde?" ('Where are you going' in Chittagonian dialect — the local dialect of Chattogram) and everyone burst out laughing.
"It took me some time to learn the new rules at my in-laws' house. I try not to speak in fluent Chittagonian in front of guests," Rakhi said. It has been 15 years since that incident but the family still has a laugh about it every now and then. Even her school-going children also know this story.
Maruf Hossain, a banker in profession, is from Chuadanga and Sharmin Jahan, currently a homemaker, is from Sylhet. The two have been waging a full-fledged war over language since their wedding.
Both Chuadanga and Sylhet have borders with India, but it has different influences on their dialects.
Maruf takes pride in the fact that his dialect has more in common with standardised Bangla. On the other hand, Sharmin's Sylheti dialect is very different from it.
The couple has a one-year old son who is slowly learning how to talk. Maruf believes he should be taught proper Bangla, but Sharmin thinks otherwise.
According to her, as she is the boy's mother, he should learn Sylheti first. Besides, she has many relatives living in London and has acquired a British accent, which she wants to pass onto her son as well.
Regardless of their differences in opinion, the baby is learning a mixture of Chuadanga and Sylheti dialect.
"Eventually, the society and the surroundings will have the last say, once he starts playing with other children and going to school," said Sharmin.
And in Mowrin's case, it was the society and surroundings which helped her adapt to the language of Cox's Bazar. "Now, I can not only understand it, but also speak a little," she said.
The struggle is real, with food
When it comes to cooking, mother-in-laws have to shoulder most of the responsibility.
Afroza Sultana from Kishoreganj, a district in Dhaka division, got her daughter married to a boy from Bagerhat, a district in the south-eastern region, and now has to struggle while cooking for her son-in-law.
When he came to their house for the first time, she cooked many dishes including dairy items and pithas (traditional dessert) with great enthusiasm. But he could not enjoy most of them as he was not used to the different spices and flavours.
Nearly two years on, Afroza still faces a hard time cooking for him, "I still do not know what to cook for him," she said.
It was a similar story for Mowrin. After arriving in Cox's Bazar, she found out that unlike the variety of pithas made in Ishwardi during winter, here people made only one, that too a savoury version without any jaggery.
"They pair it with a chicken and pahari (from hill tracts) potato curry. It is delicious but I really miss the sweet version with coconut and jaggery," she said.
Fortunately, her mother-in-law can empathise with her struggle with food. So, she often cooks separately for her.
"In a small pot, she cooks atap chal for me. Also, she remembers to fry fish for me before cooking. However, it's not always possible to fry some sea-fish."
Evidently, when there is no mother figure around, couples tend to adjust more with their eating habits.
Md Shibli and Mahbuba had an arranged marriage in June 2022. Hailing from Barishal, a district in south-central Bangladesh, Shibli is used to eating a lot of fish and their curries usually include coconut. But Mahbuba, who is from Narsingdi in north-eastern Bangladesh, is not a big fan of either.
However, while she is trying to eat more fish, he is trying to enjoy the food she prepares. "It is not a big deal. I wanted a life partner who will be modest and well-behaved. I found Mahbuba and we are happy," said Shibli.
An interfaith marriage
After facing a lot of difficulties from their families for their inter-faith relationship, Ruma Bose and Md Hasan Dastagir Khan decided to get married by themselves in 2022 under the Special Marriage Act.
In the last few months, although they have been visiting Hasan's home, Ruma's family does not want to communicate with them.
Ruma is originally from Cumilla while Hasan is from Mymensingh. "For me, it is not just the culture, everything is different — the food, the religious attributes, how they raise their children. Although Hasan's family never forced anything, rather they often cook for me, still it is about making adjustments. Moreover, my family issues bother me," Ruma said.
For her, the first problem she faced was with food. "At home, we like our dishes bhuna (cooked with less water) while in Hasan's they like vegetables to be jhol jhol (soupy). I have seen my mother add a bit of sugar while cooking but my in-laws don't like it," she said.
Now, when Ruma cooks for the two of them, she follows rules from both the households. "We just eat eggs and vegetables because Hasan is not a fan of fish or meat. But when I cook vegetables, I follow what I have seen in my home — I temper the daal or veggies with cumin seeds and dried chillies, not with garlic, add a bit of sugar, drop a dollop of ghee, etc," she said.
And it is not a big deal for Hasan, as he said, "The food doesn't bother me at all. It is fine."
Ruma misses her family, her nephew and niece. She is waiting for them to respond to her calls while concentrating on her new life.
Difficulties raising children
Children in Hasan's family are sent to learn Arabic or study Quran at a very young age, but they are not sent to school when they should be, at six years of age. It bothers Ruma.
"My family is not that strict about religion. My niece, who is six years old, still doesn't have any idea of God," she said. She is worried about how she and Hasan will raise their children in the future.
Meanwhile, in Ishwardi or most other places, Mowrin has seen infants being fed only breast milk until the age of six months. But in Cox's Bazar, sometimes babies are fed solid food right from the age of three to four months.
She felt she did not have to follow this. In fact, she didn't while raising her daughter.
The distance brings worry
Delowara Begum from Feni, a southern region of Bangladesh, faced enormous emotional turmoil while "sending" her daughter to Rajbari, all the way across the Padma River. The distance between the two districts scared her.
"Every time I see the river, my heart sinks, thinking how far I have sent my daughter," she said.
In Feni, the bride's family has to send clothes and gifts to the groom's family during the wedding and also on Eid. But this ritual does not exist in Rajbari, rather the groom's family sends gifts to the bride's home.
But Delowara still feels the groom's family might not keep her daughter happy as they were not given enough gifts.
However, it happens the other way as well. While talking about his son Zahedul's in-laws in Nilphamari, Chittagonian father Kaikobad seemed troubled. "I feel bad thinking my son will never receive the kind of grand gestures he deserves from his in-laws as a groom."
Meanwhile, Afroza Sultana has a different kind of fear for her daughter. She doesn't have any issue with her son-in-law or his family except for the fact that they live in another corner of the country. This means she does not get to see her daughter during emergencies or festivities.
"I will have to live with this sadness for the rest of my life," shared Afroza. And she has already experienced this as her daughter spent several Eids at her in-laws' house.
"The distance is so big that it wasn't possible for her to spend one day there, and then come to Kishoreganj the day after," she explained.
She also misses rituals like exchanging seasonal fruits or iftar items with her daughter's in-laws.
Meanwhile, the boy's mother Roksan Ara, also had some preconceived fears in her mind. Inter-district marriage meant the two families wouldn't get to meet physically that often. And this could have a negative impact on the relationship.
"But thanks to modern technology, nothing of that sort has happened yet. We may not be present at each other's houses on special occasions, but we can still maintain constant communication through phones and messenger," said Roksan Ara.
Sometimes, during holidays, the wives have to make a difficult choice. For example, ever since they got married in 2017, Mowrin and Rasel always stayed either in Cox's Bazar or Dhaka during Eid.
"It is difficult to travel all the way to Ishwardi during Eid, especially now that we have a young child," said Mowrin. Still she misses spending Eid with her parents.
A change in attitude
As couples and families opened up about their experiences of handling cultural differences, Bangladeshi matchmakers shared how things are changing these days.
Taslima Begum, proprietor of Dhaka-based matchmaking company Taslima Marriage Media, admitted that they often get clients who are adamant to find matches for their children from the same district or region as theirs.
But she added that things have been changing for the last few years. Families are now seeking partners for their children who are from different districts.
"In fact, I would say for almost 80% of my clients, it is not important whether the potential bride or groom is from the same district or not. Rather parents look for education, family reputation, etc," she said.
In her opinion, those who prefer regional matchmaking do so because "they fear that they wouldn't be able to know more about the family otherwise or their child wouldn't be able to adjust with a different culture. And we get such clients from all over Bangladesh, mostly from Chattogram and other southern districts."
However, Taslima said that inter-faith or inter-community marriages are still complicated.