Making arrangements

By Catherine Portland

I was on the Tube the other day and saw one of those posters for the wedding service Shaadi.com. This is a bit of a guilty secret, but as soon as I got home I looked it up on the internet and had a scout around for a husband.

Granted, this is a website primarily designed for second and third-generation South-Asians, but I thought it might be worth a Wednesday night punt. As Mr Right is moving further out of sight I reasoned that any option should be explored.

Some of the men were better than the ones I usually run into on the London dating scene - not sure if this was a fact I was expecting or not. Other online dating agencies are usually full of 46-year-old fishmongers called Nigel, so I wasn't quite prepared for the handsome hunks that lay waiting on the pages of the "word's largest matrimonial service".

There were literally thousands of men living all over the world looking for a wife. A good proportion of these willing husbands live in the UK, with men right here in London heading home after a day at the office to seek a wife. I imagined scores of accountants, architects, doctors, dentists and lawyers sat in little rooms desperately looking for the perfect wife.

However, I realised that the majority of these men have committed themselves to traditional values and are looking for a wife to become a part of their already-formed family. As easy-going and handsome as the men in the posters on the Tube look, the ones on the website aren't quite that perfect. Granted they are looking for a committed relationship rather than a passing fling, but some of the blokes were less than choice.

Instead of the guitar-wielding investment banker shown on the advertising pictures, or the part-time Bollywood hunk brain surgeon I had been hoping to find, I managed to seek out the members who lived in Slough and worked in supply chain purchasing.

As thrilling as supply chain purchasing is - and the steady income I'm sure it brings - it wasn't floating my boat. But I couldn't help find his post endearing. Some of the more good looking men had strong traditional values and next to a posed head shot appeared notes such as: "No time-wasters please. I'm looking for a committed woman".

What was interesting to note was the fact that most people wanted a partner who would fit all their criteria and also win the parental seal of approval. This was an interesting take on arranged marriage, I thought. Basically, you choose someone you like the look of, swap a few emails, go on a couple of dates then get the parents involved to kick-off the wedding plans.

This sounds like a rational approach to dating and makes me want to get my own mum and dad in on the act. If only they were for this kind of arrangement, then I, like the 801,746 who have found a spouse through Saadi.com, can settle down.

But then again, would I really want to get my parents involved in my dating life? Perhaps it's best if I stick to reading Love Struck in the London Paper on the Tube from now on.