‘Indian Matchmaking’ Season 2 Doesn’t Make Good On Its Promise To Expand The Show’s Horizons

When Indian Matchmaking premiered back in July of 2020, it arrived at a perfect time, back in that first summer of the pandemic when we were all relegated to our homes — and therefore could devour the entire season in one sitting. The show was an instant success, prompting rabid social media conversation while providing a window into the “ancient” tradition of matchmaking in Indian culture, which was now being repurposed for modern society. While it wasn’t perfect, I personally loved how honest the show was about the ways that weddings and unions in both traditional and contemporary Indian communities are viewed.

But the show wasn’t without criticism: the Netflix reality series was roundly criticized for its narrow view of the Indian diaspora, featuring a mainly Hindu, heterosexual, upper caste, upper class cast of characters. Creator and producer Smriti Mundhra was upfront about the show’s shortcomings, citing the show’s resident matchmaker Sima Taparia’s existing client list as the main reason for the lack of diversity. Still, Mundhra told Decider that she hoped that Indian Matchmaking Season 2 would have a chance to expand its focus and address the concerns. 

Well, Season 2 is here and it looks almost identical to the first, which is a huge disappointment. The series also doesn’t make good on the promise to expand its horizons at all. In terms of religious diversity, Season 1 featured one Sikh character Rupam, and Season 2 replaces her with another Sikh client Arshneel. Everyone else — from Shital to Viral to Akshay — retreads the exact same Hindu, North Indian qualities that already felt tired in the first season. There is no attempt to expand beyond Sima Aunty’s client list or bring in another matchmaker who sees value in helping people in different walks of life find love, and the result feels like deja vu.

Then, in a decision I’m still trying to understand, the show also inexplicably brings back three familiar faces from the first season — Aparna, Nadia and Pradhyuman — though none of them are utilizing Sima Aunty’s services anymore. While they all had interesting stories in the first season, including them now makes the new season feel disjointed and undermines the show’s supposed thesis about the success of arranged marriages in a modern world. It was already notable in Season 1 that none of the matches that Sima Aunty put together remained coupled up, and Season 2 fares only slightly better with two couples showing promise by the end of the eight-episode run. That hit rate makes me question the viability of this show in its current iteration, and featuring three former clients who have sworn off of matchmaking services altogether doesn’t exactly incite confidence in both Sima Aunty’s business and the practice at large. 

Both seasons have also featured a repetitive, problematic theme: Sima Aunty’s insistence that each client should “compromise,” “be patient,” and plan to settle for 60-70% of their criteria. While, yes, it’s important to have an open mind and understand that you’ll never check off every single thing that you desire in a partner, there’s an obvious disconnect between Sima Aunty’s mentality and that of the younger, mostly-millennial client roster — you can literally see the shock in some of their eyes when she prefaces the conversations with that, and some even use their confessionals to complain about how 60% is a failing grade. 

Notably many of the failed matches lack physical attraction and chemistry, which is a very real and important thing in a romantic relationship — though it’s not always spoken about in traditional Indian society. When this happens with Viral and Shital, Sima Aunty doesn’t seem to want to address or acknowledge its importance, and instead she falls back on her advice to settle. There is a balance to be struck between the hardheadedness of youth and the wisdom of age, but the show isn’t achieving it. 

So does matchmaking work? Of course, there are some success stories. But curiously, hardly any of them have spawned from the Netflix show that’s supposed to shed light on the Indian custom as it works today. This would be fine if Indian Matchmaking was interested in exploring how the practice is adapting to changes in gender norms and expectations for relationships… but unfortunately it isn’t. 

Radhika Menon (@menonrad) is a TV-obsessed writer based in Los Angeles. Her work has appeared on Vulture, Teen Vogue, Paste Magazine, and more. At any given moment, she can ruminate at length over Friday Night Lights, the University of Michigan, and the perfect slice of pizza. You may call her Rad.