Part 2: The Aftermath of Badhi: A Socio-Economic Sequel on Marriage, Dowry, and Modernity in the Bunt Community

Hear ye, hear ye as I release part 2. I received an overwhelming number of messages about the first part and here is part 2 of my research. Bear with me as its also a long one but I hope I've made it easy and interesting enough. Please continue to write in the chatbox on the website.

Part 1: Badhi: Dowry, Daughters, and the Economics of Belonging in Bunt Society

Have you watched Downton Abbey?

Cora brought a dowry that kept the estate running and allowed it to stay within the family. The British, who often looked down on Americans, still married rich New York daughters because their own estates were crumbling—and most aristocratic men didn’t work. They managed lands, held titles, served in the forces—but never really got their hands dirty.

This idea of a dowry as lifeline, as estate-saver, isn’t new to us in Tulunadu. In fact, it predates Downton Abbey. Long before Cora, our dynasties followed a similar practice. A badhi wasn’t just a cultural formality—it was strategy. It was survival. It was succession planning, wealth consolidation, even insurance.

Bear with me, as we walk through a few waves and stories.

Scenario 1: Dynastic Roots and the Evolution of Badhi

As I mentioned in my previous blog, the earliest records of badhi can be traced back to the dynastic Bunts. This includes the Thimmannarasa Ajilas, the Kadambas, the Chowtas, and the Ballallas. The Ullal dynasty, one of the most documented dynasties, offers significant evidence of wealth flow, primarily due to the prominence of Rani Abbakka Chowta. She famously fought the Portuguese—although she lost the battle, her resolve never wavered, and she continued to resist even in prison.

During this era, badhi was transacted based on desire and leverage. The price was offered as a means to secure the boy as an aliya (heir). The men of this time, though not educated at Oxford or Cambridge, were well-versed in political science, martial arts like kalari payattu, strategy, art of sword fighting, and agriculture. They were the landed gentry, equipped with the knowledge necessary to maintain estates and manage resources.

The concept of a "spare" heir was common due to the ongoing wars—dynastic battles, the Anglo-Mysore War, and the Indo-Portuguese conflicts, to name a few. Regardless of birth order, sons and daughters alike, were trained for specific duties. This is evidenced in the pardhana (historical account) of Devu Poonja, where the natural heir was deemed incapable and stepped aside during a time of war. In his place, a 16-year-old Devu Poonja rose to the occasion. The women of the family, like Shankari Poonja, were the ones who decided who would be trained for leadership roles.

Kings during this period often required aristocrats from guthus (clans) and beedus (land grants) to return control to the ruling monarch if no capable heir or kutumba (kin group) was found. It was common for kings to be matrilineal, inheriting titles through their mother’s line, rather than the father’s.

To clarify, let’s take the example of Manjanna Arasa, a king in Aliyasanthana. Manjanna inherited his title through his mother’s matrilineal line. His sister, not his son, would carry the lineage forward, with her son next in line to the throne. However, Manjanna’s wives still had maryada—respect and rights—as long as he was king, though they had specific duties as well. For instance, the wives of the Ajila dynasty played a key role in the architecture of Venur.

If Manjanna’s first sister’s son was incapable of ruling, he could appoint another suitable candidate from his second sister’s son or another qualified male relative. The decision was based on the ability to lead—brain, bravery, and strength in warfare were key considerations. Manjanna’s children, however, would belong to his wife’s family rather than his own.

But there’s another critical point: Manjanna’s wife, Shantala, had to pay a badhi to marry him. This badhi could have been used for various purposes—perhaps to maintain the granary, build something new, expand the family’s land holdings, or even as a trust in case Manjanna fell ill or had to abdicate. In some instances, the badhi could have been used to secure a capable aliya (heir) for his sisters and in rare cases his daughters. This was a significant consideration because the education, lineage, and household of the aliya would directly influence the strength and survival of the dynasty.

Let’s say Manjanna’s cousin, who was in charge of a guthu in the same region, failed to provide a capable heir. Since this guthu played a strategic role in war, Manjanna had the right to reclaim it. This is reflected in the pardhana of Devu Poonja, where a 16-year-old proved capable of leading and secured the guthu, demonstrating that capability was necessary not just for leadership but for the protection of the family’s wealth and inheritance. Son's were also important for a home as they were commodified during these times.

The Aftermath of Badhi Exchanges

There were four types of aftermath observed after a badhi was exchanged during this time:

1. The Fruitful Outcome: The marriage fulfilled its intended purpose. Both husband and wife were happy, and they weathered trials and tribulations together, benefiting from the badhi exchange.

2. The Power Dynamic Shift: The wife, especially one married into powerful families like Manjanna’s, used the strength of her badhi to assert greater power during her reign.

3. The Usurpation of Property: In some cases, the badhi was used as a reason to claim property following the untimely death of the husband, leading to disputes over inheritance. This led to sibling rivalry and breaking up of families. Many during this time angrily left homes and established new homes with whatever money they had.

4. The Disempowerment of Women: If the badhi was considered low or inadequate, it became a tool to undermine the woman’s rights in her husband’s household, pushing her out and diminishing her status. There have been cases where the woman has returned to her brother's home or matriarchal home in such instances. Pride has been an important trait amonsgt bunt women who will emerge stronger if and when they are positioned poorly.

Thus, while the badhi was often a symbol of wealth and power, it also became a source of tension and conflict. It could uplift the woman who brought it, or it could become a source of resentment and manipulation, depending on how it was utilized and how the power dynamics shifted post-marriage.

Scenario 2: 1800s to 1920s – Strategic Marriages and Colonial Crossroads

During this time the age reduced of brides and grooms. Brides and grooms were barely 5 or 6 when their paathera (word of giving their hand in marriage) and niscaya (engagement) was done. Shocking, I know. But my great grandmother's sister even was five when she got married.

Let me break this down for you now.

During this time the Kollur mines were open and proximity of Kollur to the Udupi region attracted more colonisers to these parts in search of wealth. Bunts showed lower loss of property and wealth until the Land Reforms Act and Declaration. There is anecdotal evidence of them turning to gods to protect their wealth. Some hid their gold under the naga banas (where the cobra is worshipped, now called the nidhi in copper pots), some hid it inside the wooden pillars of their homes, and some dumped it in the wells of their homes. The Aramanes maintained friendly strategic relations often pampering the uninvited guests with something small and hiding most of their wealth. But there was loss of wealth in some ways. Trade was at its peak but delayed payments were not uncommon or no payments at all from the colonisers who felt entitled.

During this time marriage was a way of survival for many houses. But not just about survival, they also preempted what may happen.

Let's take the example of Korapallu, Korapallu was the only daughter of a gurkaardi (matriarch) named Lakshmi. Now Lakshmi had four sisters who got their paal (rights or shares to their land through matrilineal customs) but she feared that since her daughter was an only child and had no kasa (own) brothers she would be prey in her sisters hands. They would wait for Lakshmi to pass or for Korapallu to be vulnerable in order to take charge of the guthu.

So what does Lakshmi do? She protects her daughter's future by bringing a son-in-law for her Korapallu at the age of 5. She pays a heavy badhi to bring Baabu as a son-in- law. But here's what's also in strategy. If something did happen to Lakshmi, Baabu's family was insurance. They would stand by Korapallu because their son had rights of an aliya in that house.

But the other strategy was that if it came to a battle or war, because of their alliance with each other's house - they would stand together. Not just that, they'd exchange resources if any of the guthus were in trouble or needed help.

Here another concept came into life, the concept of puddhe. Now, puddhe was the sending of rice, fruit, grocery to the main house periodically. It would be stored in the granary of the guthu. The guthu, beedu or aramane had duties towards the village.

During a kola - food had to be served. The family usually ran a temple, or garadi in the udupi areas that was responsible to serve food every single day. This puddhe would go into serving the village. After the harvest month, the math of sending some part of your harvest as puddhe to the main house was important. Villagers would send it to the guthu, guthu would send some part to the beedu and the beedu in turn to the aramane.

But because of Korapallu's marriage to Baabu, should there be a bad harvest month, puddhe would be sent from Baabu's house to Korapallu. Because Korapallu's mother paid them a heavy badhi, they were bonded for life.

The age of marriage reduced not because kids fell in love at the age of five but it was strategy and survival.

The Four Outcomes of Badhi in This Era

Here the aftermath was more of support but also some other effects were found:

1. For instance if Korapallu had a weak moment and her Tangamma's (mother's younger sister) daughters somehow were eligible to rights and the Tangamma had three daughters. The daughter that paid the highest badhi for her aliya usually gained more rights. But there was also another extreme where for instance in D1, D2, D3 (daughter 1,2,3), if D1 paid the highest for her husband, she would feel bad for the youngest who paid the least and give away her rights to D3.

2. Another was of the daughter-in-law of that house who paid a heavy badhi but has lost any right in her own maternal home - she would try to assert reign based on the heftiness of the badhi she paid. This was also the era of cruel intentions. Where some were allegedly poisoned and killed to gain control of lands.

3. The third was of these kids growing up and realising their marriage wasn't working - sometimes husbands were thrown out of the house and there was no trace of the badhi. Sometimes they even came back.

4. The fourth was of an early death of the wife but the trust fund existed so the man took on a second wife without a badhi. The second wife, often times, if the man had children from the first wife was a relative of the first wife. Sometimes even the sister of the first wife.

Scenario 3: The Post-War Era (1930s-1980s)

Here came the exodus of Bunts. WWII ended, the British left, the Land Reforms Act came, and titles were dead.

Bunts left for England, America, Bombay, and Madras—only a few went to the Middle East during this era.

But badhi stayed. Badhi was taken depending on what I mentioned in my previous article. But the aftermath was more resentment.

Women went through an era of helplessness and in order to adapt to a patrilineal world, they had to fuel the dreams of their husbands and fathers-in-law more than their own.

Let’s take Shambavi. She was married to Domba, a man who ran his father’s hotel. Now, the father, Raju, was still a Bunt man at his core. His priority was his nieces and daughters. He left his ancestral land to his nieces (sisters children), and the wealth he created with the badhi from his wife was for his daughters. Yet his son Domba was a pawn. He was married to Shambavi for Shambavi’s gold and the badhi she was bringing. That gold was going to release the hotel from the mortgage they were paying. But Shambavi had no right to her father-in-law’s hotel even though it was her gold that paid for it.

The Four Outcomes of Badhi in This Era

1. The women who paid a badhi to release hotels resented that the sister of their husbands still maintained rights even though it was her jewelry that paid for it. Women here felt betrayed not only by their own maternal homes that did not come forward to fight for her rights but also by their husbands loyalty. Some women were also known to have angrily left homes and established new homes of their own.

2. The women who paid a badhi to fuel their husbands' professional careers, like doctors and lawyers, remained better placed and low in resentment as they lived better lives. The hospitals they built with their badhi were for their daughters.

3. The women who paid a badhi to engineers and chartered accountants didn't harbour any resentment as they built more.

4. The women who paid a badhi to release ancestral land from mortgages or buy lost ancestral land during declaration were highly resentful and fought for their rights over purchased land because of it being their money that bought it. It was also a time where many homes were lost in fires, and sometimes older daughters sacrificed their own lives by marrying lower in stature just so their younger sisters could marry better.

Scenario 4: The Will-Not-Take-Badhi and the Fixed Price Era (1980s-early 2000s)

From the 1980s to the early 2000s, there was a rise in women who went to work outside the home and estates - we're talking office and desk jobs. If they weren’t entrepreneurial, they were doctors, lawyers, engineers, or teachers. But this was also the fixed price era, where men had a rate card.

Take for example Anvitha. She was a doctor herself but paid a badhi to marry a doctor. The badhi here was either used by the parents of the groom with no trace of end use, or it was used to marry off daughters of the family, or it was used as repayment of investment made in their son. In rare cases, it was used to fuel the son's dreams or given to the new household. This was also the era where families became more nuclear. There was more of an exodus to Dubai, England, America, Bombay, and Bangalore.

The Four Outcomes of Badhi in This Era

1. Women who paid a badhi to repay debts of the groom’s house, or marry their sisters off, held high resentment. This also led to higher sibling rivalry.

2. Women who paid a badhi as repayment and brought the aliya completely onto their side were neutral and saw badhi as a natural payment for a good father and a good man.

3. There was a surge in men who refused to take a badhi even if their parents insisted. Some of these lived happier lives, while others showed lower growth in finances as compared to those who took a badhi as seed capital to fuel their dreams. But there were also men who were calculative in not asking for a badhi, for instance they married only children or the only daughter of a family knowing that they would inherit in time.

4. Some women fought for rights in their husbands’ homes or “sat” put in their husbands’ homes to ensure inheritance was towards their kids and not the kids of their sisters-in-law, as it was their badhi that paid for the house they lived in.

   
   
   
   

   Scenario 5: The Badhi in Kind (2000s - Present)

   
   

   Let’s take the example of Sushmitha. Sushmitha is a well-educated marketing executive with a degree from the University of Exeter, but still paid a badhi in kind to marry a doctor.

   Her family was asked to spend over 5 million USD for the wedding. It included hotel stays, flight tickets for over 1400 members of the family, decor that cost a kidney, and return gifts that cost a foot.

   
   

   The Four Outcomes of Badhi in This Era

   1. Many parents, during these vanity-driven contests of "who wins best wedding," incurred debt. This set up the marriage for a whole lot of resentment and struggle. "Our son gets married only once" led to $25/head for 2000 heads—lunches, dinners, and hotel stays. The facade was maintained, but the happiness quotient of the marriage deteriorated, with even some ending in divorce. Though they don’t trace it back to the wedding itself, the trace does lead back there.

   2. Those who had more intimate weddings with no badhi and shared the cost of wedding parties—marriage on the girl's parents and reception split—had far happier and stronger marriages comparatively.

   3. The aliya's still went to their wives' homes (I mean, look at KL Rahul—aliya to Suniel Shetty, and read their posts: brother to Ahan, son to us). They aligned more with their wives' families, especially if they were from the Udupi-Mangalore regions. Kundapur Bunt men showed more affinity to their sisters, and wives were silently expected to fulfil duties in their husbands' families. The daughters-in-law of Kundapur Bunt boys expressed more familial duties towards their husbands' homes but did not deny matrilineal effects in their own lives.

   4. Those that had weddings that were vanity-driven but more instigated by the brides' parents rather than the grooms had happier marriages. Here, I mean when, for example, daughter Natasha's father wanted to actively spend money in excess for his daughter's wedding, and it was not a want by Natasha's groom's family.

   
   

   The badhi system reveals how marriage in Bunt society was never merely a personal union—it was a resonant social contract, intimately entwined with wealth, status, and survival. At its origin, badhi served to uphold matrilineal inheritance and forge strategic alliances, particularly during periods of war and uncertainty. It became a mechanism through which women and families could exercise influence—within a framework that paradoxically empowered them even as it commodified men.

   As colonialism and patriarchy redrew the contours of kinship and gender, badhi transformed. What began as a shrewd form of familial investment gradually hardened into a structure that reinforced hierarchies of power—often at the expense of male autonomy.

   
   

   With time, as wealth accumulated and inheritance splintered, badhi became a spark that lit rivalries. Siblings who felt shortchanged by more opulent weddings or generous dowries began to harbour quiet resentments. Families fractured—not solely over love or pride, but over land, gold, and the shadow of memory: who gave, who took, who was remembered more generously. In some cases, the size of the badhi became a weapon—used in whispered wars, with relatives undermining each other's futures, slandering daughters-in-law, or staging power plays dressed as tradition.

   
   

   A system designed to secure kinship ties often left them frayed, with old wounds festering around property, legacy, and unspoken expectations of gender.

   Economically, badhi mirrored its era. In pre-colonial times, it secured land, grain, or kinship bonds. By the close of the 20th century—amidst the rise of a globalised middle class and the seduction of consumerism—it turned into spectacle. Lavish weddings replaced strategic exchanges. Families took loans, performed grandeur, and endured years of financial strain, mistaking extravagance for security. Yet, not all followed this glittering path. A growing number of couples quietly resisted—choosing to share costs, host intimate ceremonies, and centre their unions on mutual respect rather than material exchange. These choices reflect a deeper yearning: to move away from debt, comparison, and familial bitterness, and towards a marriage rooted in autonomy and partnership.

   
   

   Badhi is more than dowry—it is a lens through which to witness Bunt society’s continual adaptation to shifting power structures, economic tides, and gendered expectations. From land to luxury, legacy to love, rivalry to resilience—it charts the course of a community striving to honour tradition while embracing transformation.

   
   

   To view badhi through both sociological and economic lenses is to uncover profound insight into how women, families, and communities have navigated the evolving terrain of their own futures.

   
   

   Disclaimer: There are, of course, exceptions to how badhi is perceived. This study focused on couples within the Bunt community post-2000. During this period, interfaith and intercaste marriages surged. While these unions were not formally included, similar patterns emerged—particularly in the figure of the “aliya,” or son-in-law moving into the wife’s home, and in sons forging stronger ties with their in-laws, echoing older matrilineal instincts across faiths and castes.

   
   

   P.S. I wonder—will the badhi be recalculated, even rebranded, in the years to come?