Nama Slay: Why Indians Ask Loaded Questions (and What They Really Mean)

“When are you getting married?”
“When will you have kids?”
“Have you gained some weight?”
“Why are you wearing that colour?”
“Have you been spending a lot of time in the sun?”

Unless you’ve found refuge on a remote planet with no Indians, you’ve probably been hit with some (or all) of the above questions. And you’re probably feeling a bit triggered seeing these queries staring you in the face.

(It’s OK. Take a moment to process your annoyance, then remember to do whatever you want and live your best life!)

Why is it that the Indian mode of questioning comes off as a cross-examination rather than an invitation?

The inquiries don’t feel like a comforting cup of chai, but leave the same bad taste as accidentally biting into the rogue cardamom pod in a biryani. Maybe it’s because these probes feel like an interrogation and highlight touchy subjects. They are judgments dressed up with a question mark.

How do you even answer questions about your appearance, desirability, and fertility without getting defensive?

Perhaps the communal nature of Indian culture allows these questions to persevere. Boundaries rarely exist among families or societies—your mom is probably in your room rifling through your drawers right now out of “love.”

The intention of our larger community is always to “look out” for one another; people need to know everything about everyone so they can celebrate together or share in their shame together.

Asking questions allows us to feel closer, even if it sounds blunt, direct, or offensive.

Indians historically don’t place much emphasis on tiptoeing around emotions. The language itself needs to get to the point quickly when you come from a country of billions, and your voice can easily get lost.

There could also be the hierarchical element of respecting your elders (as they are often the ones asking these questions), so not much diplomacy is spent on the phrasing, and you are expected to answer politely.

Despite the accusatory line of questioning, we have to believe there is benevolent intent behind them; otherwise, why would Indians in societies all over the world keep asking them?

For example, inquiring when someone will get married might not be rubbing in their single status, but showing care for their future stability through a partnership.

It could also be an invitation to allow for helpful matchmaking because Auntie Meddle-minder always knows a single, successful Raja somewhere.

The expression “There is no such thing as a dumb question” probably doesn’t resonate much when we think of these queries. In fact, there seem to be plenty of dumb questions—the ones we get asked, and the ones we try to ask only to be made to be quiet and do as we are told.

But that doesn’t mean we need to stop asking questions; we just need to learn how to ask better ones. With the right delivery, there is potential for more connection and care.

For now, Auntie Meddle-minder may still ask how much we earn or why we look so tired, but at least we can try to remember that she means well with her loaded questions.

And we can try to answer them in a way that lightens the load.