The New York Times Magazine published a Chandra Prasad article (thanks, Tamasha) over the weekend on her quest to save her cousin from an arranged marriage in India. Her solution? Arrange her cousin’s marriage herself. To an Indian American, that is.

Let’s do a play-by-play of Prasad’s reasoning, shall we?

Even among my many pretty female cousins in India, bright and lovely Neet stood out. Like most of my father’s relatives, she lived in Bihar, a volatile region in the northeastern part of the country, and at 23 was sheltered in ways that I, born and bred in the U.S., had trouble comprehending. Neet never left the house alone; she had never even shopped for her own saris. But she had studied rigorously, earned a master’s degree in computer science and was working as a software-development intern. When I asked her by phone if I’d have to start calling her “Dr. Neet” soon — a nod to the possibility of a doctorate — she laughed and said, in her tentative English, “I like the sound of that!” In truth, further educational aspirations were at odds with Neet’s circumstances, and when I learned last year that her parents were considering arranged-marriage options, I felt sorry for her.

Fair enough. Sounds like Neet may risk missing out on enjoying her independence. But then Prasad writes:

A Connecticut-bred Yale grad, IÂ’m not really an advocate of arranged marriage.

Right. Because as we all know, Iowa State is just bursting at the seams with arranged-marriage advocates. Then the article just gets absurd:

But it occurred to me, and to my like-minded father, that we might be able to bring Neet into the U.S. and broaden her opportunities if we could find a suitable Indian husband for her here. With her parentsÂ’ permission, we set to work.

This is where Prasad lost me. What is it exactly that Prasad is trying to do? Is she really trying to “broaden” Neet’s opportunities? Because if that were the case, she wouldn’t try to hastily arrange her marriage, she would encourage her to apply to graduate school and continue her studies in the States.Which begs the next question: Is Prasad really that critical of arranged marriage? Or is she just opposed to the idea of Neet marrying an Indian man? Prasad writes more on her search for Neet’s groom:

Posing as my father, who would have the authority to do so, I created an online profile for Neet on an Indian matchmaking Web site — outlining everything from her hobbies to her favorite foods.…As the process went on, we began to lower our expectations. There were no movie stars among our top candidates. But we did find a few smart, progressive young men, U.S. citizens all.

Neet, as it turns out, wasn’t really into the idea:

…we couldnÂ’t understand NeetÂ’s lack of enthusiasm. At one point I asked her bluntly if she really wanted to be married to someone in America. Before I knew it, she had changed the subject to her favorite Bollywood stars. We finally had to accept that she didnÂ’t share our sense of urgency over her situation.

Maybe Neet just didn’t want her cousin to arrange her marriage. Prasad, however, seems to realize the folly of her efforts towards the end of the piece:

Recently IÂ’ve begun to feel guilty about the attempt. I hear there are several suitors in India who are interested in Neet, but sheÂ’s still in no hurry to be married, or to otherwise sort out her future. Maybe we were wrong to think that she should be, or to think that we knew what was best for her.

Good for you, Neet! Enjoy your independence! Prasad, however, still doesn’t quit:

I suppose all I really wanted was to see my cousin in more secure circumstances.

Arranging your cousin’s marriage to a man half a world away is a secure predicament?

ItÂ’s mere chance, after all, that sheÂ’s there and IÂ’m here; that she has one kind of life and I another; that opportunities I take for granted are beyond her reach. IÂ’m not saying that one situation is better than the other. But IÂ’m not denying it either.

Here Prasad suggests that an arranged marriage to an Indian American man is better than an arranged marriage with an Indian man. This may be true for Prasad, but did it ever occur to her that perhaps Neet might have little in common with an Indian American man?

And did it also occur to Prasad that maybe entering an arranged marriage with an Indian man would not necessarily mean a lifetime of unhappiness for Neet? Many of my cousins in India entered arranged marriages, and yet they continue to work as doctors, engineers, and scientists. And their husbands, for that matter, are not oafish and chauvinistic pigs. They treat their wives and daughters very well — and they seem to have happier marriages compared to some of those that I’ve observed in America. (Then again, we’re Southies, so I concede that someone whose family is from Bihar may have a different perspective.) This is not to say that I think arranged marriages are 100 percent defensible; I’m just saying that they’re not necessarily oppressive, either.

That being said, I would never presume to know what’s best for my cousins in India. I couldn’t possibly know, because I hardly know them; we grew up worlds apart. But if I had a cousin who was about to make what I thought was a horrible life decision, I would probably ask her what she wants, what her goals are, and what qualities she would like in a partner. And then we would discuss whether that life decision would be a wise one in light of those goals. Putting her profile up on Shaadi.com, however, would not be my first response. (By the way, is Prasad even aware that women have the power to put their own profiles up on that site? Not that I use it. But my cousins do.)