Sukumaar, 33, an assistant professor at a private college in Chennai got married to Elakkiya in June 2024. Theirs was a self-respect marriage—a union inspired by Periyar’s (E.V. Ramasamy’s) self-respect marriage movement. The couple entered the mandapam accompanied by the notes of the parai, which is considered as a musical instrument of the ‘lower castes’. The intricately woven decorations made of dried stems of the banana tree were a perfect backdrop for the stage at the ceremony at Selam, Tamil Nadu. It was attended by about 400 people—their families, friends and students. There were no photos of any deities at the venue.
Sukumaar belongs to a backward caste and his partner Elakkiya hails from another backward caste with a class difference that is bridged by their love. A communication and journalism professor and software developer, Elakkiya first matched on Tamil matrimony. Sukumaar’s upbringing at Old Washermanpet and Royapuram area around Chennai was not easy as people from this area are still looked down upon due to stereotypical casteist notions.
After his father passed away when Sukumaar was 7, the family faced economic hardships. He did odd jobs, continued his education and become economically stable in his late 20s. When the duo chatted on a matrimony platform, they clicked.
Their choice of a self-respect marriage had the support of Elakkiya’s father who is a Dravidian follower. But both Sukumaar’s mother and Elakkiya’s mother opposed the idea due to societal pressure. Sukumaar took his mother to a friend’s self-respect marriage at the Periyar Thidal in Chennai. This exposure helped to change her mind, yet, both she and Elakkiya’s mother insisted the bride wear a taali (nuptial chain) which they bought secretly. The couple stood their ground about exchanging vows based on equality.
Sukumaar and Elakkiya spoke to Outlook from Periyar Thidal—a place seeped in Dravidian ideals that is very special to thousands in Tamil Nadu. Sukumaar says, “I wanted to marry someone whose views were different from mine, so when I connected with Elakkiya, we had deeper conversations around self-respect marriage. I told her clearly that I would like to have a self-respect marriage and she happily agreed.”
For Elakkiya it was the perfect solution to avoid any conflicts over performing two different kinds of rituals due to their different sub-castes. “Self-respect marriage, especially the rejection of the mangalsutra, was an important and meaningful choice for me,” she says.
Periyar Thidal in Chennai is living proof of Dravidian ideas blooming in new ways. Periyar’s memorial there stands witness to marriages that break the chains of caste and patriarchy year after year. Around 1,000 to 1,500 self-respect marriages are performed here at the resting-place complex of Periyar which has libraries, book shop, a research centre, the office and printing press of the first Tamil rationalist daily Viduthalai. Periyar’s statue carved in black rock isn’t worshiped with garlands. His burial site is surrounded by a small garden and banners made of stone, with a few important quotes of his written in both Tamil and English. A mango tree planted by the Dravidian leader and Tamil Nadu’s former chief minister late. C.N. Annadurai provides shade to visitors.
Around the 1920s, Periyar launched the Self-Respect movement so that people could practice the principles of the Dravidian movement in their daily lives. The Self-Respect Marriage movement, started in 1920 in Tamil Nadu, was a revolutionary challenge to caste hierarchy, Brahminical control, and patriarchal customs embedded in traditional Hindu marriages. These marriages rejected priests, vedic rituals, Sanskrit mantras and the idea of caste purity, instead encouraging inter-caste unions. The ceremonies were conducted in simple, rational terms, with partners exchanging vows in their own language—placing consent, equality, and individual dignity at the centre of it.
Prince Periyar, Deputy General Secretary of the Dravidar Kazhagam at Periyar Thidal, explains, “Self-respect marriages are simple. A couple submits a joint application with a fee of Rs. 2,000 and basic documents as proof of age and education. We then counsel them—understanding their readiness for commitment, emotional and economic stability—and, if all is in place, the marriage is solemnised the same day. Once they receive the self-respect marriage certificate, they can approach the local sub-registrar to obtain the official government marriage certificate.” He adds that due to this simple process and the absence of the 30-day waiting period (a provision that exists under the Special Marriage Act), many couples from North India come to Tamil Nadu to solemnise marriages.
Many activists like Prince encourage newly-wed couples to buy a subscription of the rationalist daily Viduthalai which is run by the Periyar trust. This is the way activists try to engage with the young couples with Dravidian ideas. It’s also a way for activists to be connected with the couples for helping them in familial conflicts or safety concerns that might occur in inter caste marriages.
The Idea, the Movement and its Institutionalisation
Periyar viewed self-respect marriages as a cornerstone of women’s emancipation, challenging dowry, child marriage, and the deeply rooted idea of women’s subordination in traditional customs. His vision took firm shape through legal reforms in 1967–68, when the DMK government led by C.N. Annadurai amended the Hindu Marriage Act and granted official recognition to these unions in Tamil Nadu. This not only validated Self-Respect marriages in retrospective effect but also paved a way for property rights of women and children who were born out of these marriages. Before 1967, though self-respect marriage was socially recognised, it didn’t have legal status and children from such marriages would be seen as ‘illegitimate.’
In Maharashtra revolutionary thinker and leader Mahatma Jyotirao Phule also started ‘Satyashodhak Vivah’ in the 19th century, which is based on vows of equality, eliminating Brahmin priests and rituals. The youth in Maharashtra and other parts of India embrace the idea of Satyashodhak marriage even today, but it’s not institutionalised and as popular as self-respect marriage.
In 1974, activists of Dravidar Kazhagam (a parent organisation or think tank of the DMK) started the Self-Respect Marriage Bureau, acknowledging the need of the society and popularising the idea of self-respect marriages beyond eco chambers. The bureau has its office in Periyar Thidal campus, which also provides a medium size hall for solemnising the marriages. Though it highly promotes inter-caste marriages, it doesn’t confine people from their personal choices of marrying within a caste if they like any proposal from the marriage bureau.
“It feels as if Periyar and the Dravidian movement created the most powerful political non-fiction—an ongoing, real story we’ve made our own.”
“Not everyone can opt for a love marriage, so there has to be a good alternative for arranged marriage in our society, therefore we started the Bureau in 1974, which was headed by my mother. My wife P. Senthil Kumari heads it currently. I contribute to officiate marriages here, help couples with their queries, vows and certificates.” says Isai Inmban, 63, while proudly showing a marriage ring with Periyar’s photo on his finger.
As self-respect marriages don’t need lawyers, priests or even relatives to be present, they can be performed anywhere. Isai Inmban, a senior activist of Dravidar Kazhagam had a self-respect marriage in jail in 1991. His mother, father and fiance—all activists who were protesting for the Kaveri water dispute issue, were detained by the police near Meenambakkam airport. During that detention, he decided to get married to Pasumpon Senthil Kumari. Iconic rings engraved with Periyar’s photos which were exchanged by Isai Inmbanmother and father—were given to both their son and daughter-in-law for their marriage.
Apart from the Self-Respect Marriage Bureau and Periyar matrimony website, the mobile app of Periyar Matrimony was conceived recently. This app will be launched soon according to officials at Periyar Thidal.
Apart from Thidal in Chennai there are other big centres for self-respect marriages in Trichy and Erode and smaller centres at the district headquarters across Tamil Nadu run by Dravidar Kazhagam, where self-respect marriages are performed.
For Dr. Yazini P.M. and her partner Jeyanathan Karunandhi, self-respect marriage was a political assertion as well as a personal choice. Yazini’s interaction with Jeyanathan began with his Facebook posts on socio-economic issues, which later grew into friendship and love.
“My father is a poet and Dravidian activist, and my mother, too, is a committed follower of the movement. So our families had no objection to a self-respect marriage. It was our relatives who urged us to at least include the taali ritual. But I held firm and refused. For us, the values and principles of equality mattered far more than any symbolic ornament.” Dr. Yazini told Outlook. She is also a practising doctor and the spokesperson for the DMK in Chennai.
Self-respect marriages are not new in Tamil Nadu which is divided along caste lines and records a high number of caste-pride killings when couples opt for inter-caste marriages. Jeyanathan, Dr. Yazini’s partner, says “Due to the rising trend of self-respect marriages among youth, inter-caste marriages are being promoted organically, though there is a long way to go for preventing caste-pride killings.”
Sukumaar invited his students for his self-respect marriage and many travelled from Chennai to Selam to attend it. “We wanted people to see that Dravidian ideas can not only be discussed but are also to be practised...Now young couples ask us about the process of self-respect marriage,” he says.
Madurai-based journalist Krithika recently solemnised her inter-caste self-respect marriage with Muthu. She says, “Though both of us had to put in a lot of effort to convince our families about an inter-caste love marriage, everything fell in place when people attended our wedding ceremony at Periyar Thidal. It’s the magic and warmth of Periyar’s legacy that changed something within. Our relatives started to have warm conversations with us. Now, curious younger people in our family ask me many questions.”
“It feels as if Periyar and the Dravidian movement created the most powerful political non-fiction—an ongoing, real story we’ve made our own, one that will continue to inspire generations,” Krithika adds.
Kajal Boratse, an intersectional feminist research scholar, matched with Vishwanatham Virrapan, a Tamil researcher on a dating app. Though she knew little about Periyar and his contributions, she was mesmerised after reading a book which her partner gifted her on their first date. The book was Periyar’s ‘Why were Women Enslaved?’
Kajal says, “When I visited Periyar Thidal in 2025 with my partner Vishwanathan, I was full of gratitude and so much love for Periyar; I belonged there. This gave me more strength to challenge the centrality of marriage in my own life.”
She stresses that we must remember that “challenging the orthodox oppressive caste system and Brahminical patriarchy, giving women an equal space, agency and property rights is Periyar’s biggest feminist contribution.”
Priyanka Tupe is Assistant Editor, Outlook. She is based in Mumbai
MORE FROM THIS ISSUE
This story appeared as When Sukumaar Met Elakkiya in Outlook’s December 11 issue, Dravida, which captures these tensions that shape the state at this crossroads as it chronicles the past and future of Dravidian politics in the state.
