8 enterprising women who broke their shaadi funds to invest in themselves

Goodbye patriarchy, hello financial goals

Old habits die hard, and sometimes, they simply take on a new guise. While dowry has been illegal in India since 1961 under the Dowry Prohibition Act, the notion of saving up for a daughter’s “future” still carries more weight in many families than any law on paper.

Even today, dowry often hides in plain sight as an “unspoken expectation”, masked as wedding expenses or gifts, typically borne by the bride’s family. The statistics are staggering: According to the National Crime Records Bureau (NCRB), a whopping 13,479 cases were registered in 2022 under the Dowry Prohibition Act, with Uttar Pradesh (4,807), Bihar (3,580), and Karnataka (2,224) leading the list.

The reality is that cultural norms and societal pressures continue to compel families to save for their daughters. “For some, it’s about meeting cultural expectations or protecting their daughters’ futures. For others, it’s about securing honour in a society that still ties a woman’s worth to her marriage prospects. The lack of financial agency granted to women—both as daughters and as wives—remains a glaring issue,” says Lucknow-based sociologist Meena Menon. Clearly, the idea of a woman’s marriage being an impending financial burden still has families in a chokehold—dragging common sense, feminism, and legality into the dust.

However, there’s good news too. A new generation of women are resisting the patriarchal notion of dowry, in all its forms, and giving this outdated tradition the transformation it so desperately needs. They’re taking quietly saved-up funds, whether set aside by themselves or their families, and turning them into game-changing opportunities—launching businesses, paying off student loans, making investments, and securing futures instead of buying into the template of the big fat Indian wedding.

We spoke to eight women from diverse religious and social backgrounds who had the courage and the vision to break their shaadi funds, and use them for something far more empowering.

From “shaadi savings” to degrees

When 24-year-old Delhi-based graphic designer, Riya Kapoor’s parents started whispering about “setting aside something for her future” (a common euphemism for dowry money), she shut down the idea faster than a bad Tinder date. “Keep your wedding plans—I’m planning my future,” she told them. She added the ₹10 lakh they’d set aside to her own savings and used it to pursue a master’s degree in animation in London.

Convincing her parents was far from easy. “Their biggest fear was me moving abroad alone,” she recalls. Kapoor spent months reassuring them, patiently outlining how the degree would lead to career opportunities. While they remained hesitant, watching her graduate and later set up her animation studio in Delhi ultimately melted their resistance. “The day they visited my studio was the day they truly felt proud,” she shares. “Confidence and independence look way better on me than a lehenga.”

Meanwhile, Lucknow-based Mariam Khan, 28, had her sights set on an MBA at a top B-school. Her family, too, had dutifully saved for her ‘future’, but Khan had other ideas. “Why spend on one day when you can invest in a lifetime of achievements?” she asks. Initially hesitant, her parents were convinced after she walked them through her programme, college campus, and career prospects. Today, she’s thriving as a financial consultant in Noida and is even funding her siblings’ education.

Both women still plan to have weddings—albeit smaller, self-funded ones. “When I do get married, it’ll be on my own terms, with my own money,” says Kapoor.

Saying “I do” to startups

Shruti Rao, a 34-year-old Bengaluru-based techie, had zero interest in an extravagant Indian wedding or its hidden expenses. Her parents had put aside ₹25 lakh to get her married in style and refurbish her sasuraal (in-laws’ home), which she promptly repurposed into seed money for her AI startup. “Honestly, the idea of spending that much on a wedding felt ridiculous,” she says. Instead, Shruti proposed scaling down the wedding and using the funds for her business. “It wasn’t an easy conversation—my parents worried about societal judgment and my ability to succeed.”

Her journey was fraught with doubts, from navigating the challenges of entrepreneurship to ensuring her parents’ support. But once her startup found its footing, employing over 20 people, their pride was evident. Today, Shruti is happily married, and her husband—one of her first clients—shares her vision. Their wedding? A simple, elegant registered marriage. “It was intimate, meaningful, and exactly what we wanted,” she says. She’s also returned her parents’ money so they can live their retired life comfortably.

Similarly, Parvathy Nair, 27, from Thiruvananthapuram, took her family’s dowry savings (₹12 lakh) to launch a boutique. “My parents initially refused—they didn’t want me to take such a big risk,” she recalls. It took months of persistence, detailed business plans, and reassurances to win them over. Today, her mother’s friends are her best clients and her boutique’s success speaks for itself. “The day I showed them my first profitable quarter, they became my biggest cheerleaders,” she says.

Paying off debt

Pune-based Shivani Deshmukh, 31, a marketing executive, saw her family’s ₹8 lakh dowry savings as an opportunity to give back. “My parents took a home loan to educate us. I knew it was only right to repay them,” she says.

Convincing them was no small feat. “They felt guilty about using the money for anything but my future,” shares Deshmukh. But she explained how paying off the loan would secure their financial future. Today, her debt-free family calls her their role model.

Building foundations

While her friends were browsing honeymoon destinations, 26-year-old Ayesha Siddiqui, a lawyer from Kolkata, had different priorities. Her heart was set on buying a cosy apartment. She used her dowry money (₹25 lakh), saved by her and her family, as a down payment for her family’s first home.

“My parents were hesitant—they worried about what people would say,” she says. “But I told them: ‘This isn’t just about a house. It’s about giving us stability and independence.’” Her determination paid off. “When they stepped into our new home, they finally understood what I meant,” she recalls.

On the other hand, Priya Verma, a 29-year-old from Jaipur, turned her family’s shaadi savings into a masterclass on making money work. She invested the money in a diversified portfolio—mutual funds, stocks, gold ETFs. “Mandap? No thanks. I’d rather have a money tree,” she quips. Five years later, her portfolio had doubled, and she even bought a plot of land near Udaipur for good measure.

Trading wedding bells for travel

Priya Menon, a 28-year-old media professional from Chennai, chose wanderlust over wedding bells. She spent her and her family’s “set-aside money” on a three-month family trip across Europe. “At first, my parents thought I was being selfish,” she says. “But seeing how much joy the trip brought us changed their minds.”

Menon plans to have a wedding someday but says it’ll be a smaller, self-funded affair. “For now, I’m focused on creating memories and experiences that truly matter.”

While these women are reclaiming financial autonomy for themselves, change hasn’t always been easy—not every family is ready to hit Ctrl+Alt+Delete on tradition. These women, too, faced prime-time drama to rival an Ekta Kapoor saga. “There were guilt trips, awkward silences, and plenty of tears,” recalls Rao. “But every small victory was worth it.”

As Menon puts it: “It’s not just rejecting a custom—it’s redefining investment in a woman’s future.”