The true cost of ‘Big Fat’: Why India needs a luxury-wedding tax

When celebration becomes spectacle, society — and the country — pays dearly

 

“More! More! Is the cry of a mistaken soul” — William Blake

 

For generations, Indian weddings were intimate rituals woven with meaning — a sacred union, a gathering of families, a celebration of blessings and community. But the visionary English poet’s warning feels painfully current in a country where the wedding industry, worth an estimated $200 billion, is increasingly driven by competitive display. What once unfolded in ancestral courtyards has expanded into multi-day extravaganzas: destination resorts, celebrity performances, imported decor, curated feasts, and photogenic rituals engineered for social media.

 

Yes, these weddings may burnish India’s soft power and global glamour. But beneath the shimmer lies a cost we rarely acknowledge — an ecological footprint that swells with every unused plate of food, a civic burden shouldered quietly by public systems run by tax-payer’s money, and a widening social gap fuelled by excess.

 

It is time to confront the imbalance. Let me stick my neck out and say — it is time to tax the ‘big fat’ Indian wedding. Not to stifle joy or tradition, but to recognise that when private indulgence strains public resources, a well-designed ‘luxury-wedding tax’ becomes less a penalty and more a policy instrument. One that aligns private indulgence with public responsibility.

 

The hidden bill of excess

A recent research paper surveyed food wastage at Indian weddings and functions, revealing that 20 to 40 per cent of the food prepared often goes to waste. I have personally witnessed this at various occasions. This is staggering in a country where 74 per cent of Indians cannot afford a nutritious diet. In elite weddings, the food wastage number climbs to 700-800 kg, often disposed of without segregation or redistribution. Every plate tossed aside is a reminder that abundance and hunger coexist in tragic proximity.

 

And it is not just about food. Destination weddings — whether in the hills, palaces, resorts or luxury hotels — rely heavily on civic and state infrastructure. Roads clogged with limousines and chauffeurs, security personnel deployed for crowd control and VVIP movement, extra lighting and sanitation, road access, power, water, waste-management — all paid for by you and me. The host family may bear the bill for decor and catering, but the strain on public infrastructure is borne collectively. The more ‘luxury’ the wedding, the greater the burden on our civic systems.

 

Moreover, such spectacular celebrations often reinforce social inequalities. Weddings morph from celebrations of union to competitions in conspicuous consumption. 

 

Attempts at reform: Good intentions, limited reach

Recognition of this problem is not new. In the past, certain Indian states had experimented with “Guest Control Orders” to limit the number of wedding invitees — a nod to societal and ecological limits. In 2023, a private member bill titled the Prevention of Wasteful Expenditure on Special Occasions Bill was introduced in Parliament, seeking to cap wedding guests and dishes — “only 50 guests, 10 dishes” — and to limit the value of gifts and auspicious offerings. The rationale was not moralising tradition, but preventing social harm: financial burden on families, wasteful expenditure, and curbing ostentatious displays that fuel inequality and debt.

Yet those proposals remain mired in debate or are languishing as private-bill drafts. They fall short because they attempt to regulate private celebration with blunt instruments — which frequently fosters evasion (splitting events, multiple functions, hidden expenses). The lived reality is more complex than a headcount or dish-limit.

 

The case for a luxury-wedding tax

If the traditional, hard-hat approach has failed, perhaps a more nuanced instrument could succeed. Across the world, cities and governments have shifted from outright restrictions to impact-based levies, recognising that excess must pay for its footprint. Italy’s Venice now imposes a “high-impact tourism tax” on private events that strain civic systems. France levies steep surcharges on luxury events to offset environmental and public-resource costs. Cities like New York and Singapore charge scaled “event impact fees” when private functions require street closures, sanitation, or police deployment.

 

A well-calibrated luxury-wedding tax would not ban celebration, it would internalise the external costs that lavish weddings inflict on society, environment, and public infrastructure.

Firstly, it would serve as a way to reclaim from those who heavily draw on civic resources — traffic management, security, sanitation, waste disposal, water and power usage — an amount that approximates the public burden. If a wedding marshals dozens of security staff, involves road closures and heavy traffic — these are not private costs alone. Taxpayers and civic bodies pay indirectly. A tax would acknowledge this.

 

Secondly, it could discourage excessive waste — especially food waste. When multiple cuisines, buffets, huge plates, and long menus become subject to fiscal cost, hosts may choose simpler, more appropriate options. They may even prioritise donation or composting rather than discarding.

 

Thirdly, revenue from the tax could be channelled towards social welfare: boosting civic infrastructure and security systems, supporting underprivileged marriages, assisting food-security or hunger-relief initiatives, funding community development, girls’ education or sustainable livelihood schemes. Let those weddings that underscore inequality fund efforts to reduce it.

 

Finally, a luxury-wedding tax would send a cultural signal: that celebration must not become a show-off. That status need not always come with excess. That in a country grappling with both inequality and ecological stress, we have a responsibility. Our weddings — reflections of who we are, our values, our priorities — should demonstrate our moral wealth, not just our financial one.

 

Celebrate thoughtfully, responsibly, meaningfully

Some will argue that this is an interference in personal liberty, or an insult to tradition. But as with taxes on luxury cars, tobacco, or pollution fines, society has the right to impose a cost on private choices with public consequences. If a wedding consumes public resources and exacerbates inequality, it is no longer a private affair alone.

 

Imagine a nation where weddings return to being about union and community — not about status contests. Where menus are designed consciously, not competitively; where leftovers go to food banks instead of dumpsters; where public roads don’t gridlock because a private event wants grandeur.

 

If we truly believe in India’s soft power — not as an exhibition of silk and spectacle, but as a civilisation rooted in generosity, sustainability, and empathy — then a wedding tax is not an intrusion. It is an invitation to celebrate more thoughtfully, more responsibly, more meaningfully.

 

We have already introduced mandatory CSR contributions after a company reaches a certain profit threshold, so why not consider a mandatory tax on excessive wedding expenditures beyond a certain limit?

This article was published in the Daily Guardian