London, June 25: They are young, hip South Asians in their 20s who glide seamlessly between two cultures, carefully cherry-picking from the West to modernise the East.
They can just as easily listen to Justin Timberlake, the pop star, as Rishi Rich, the Hindu musical dynamo. They eat halal meat but wear jeans and T-shirts to cafés.
Now these young Indians and Pakistanis are pushing the cultural boundaries created by their parents and grandparents one step further: they are reshaping the tradition of arranged marriages in Britain.
While couples were once introduced exclusively by relatives and friends, the Aunt Bijis, as Muslims call their matchmakers, are now being slowly nudged out by a boom in Asian marriage websites, chat rooms and personal advertisements. South Asian speed dating — Hindus one night, Muslims the next — is the latest phenomenon to hit London, with men and women meeting each other for just three minutes at restaurants and bars before moving on to the next potential mate.
Arranged marriages are still the norm within these communities in Britain, but with the urging of second- and third-generation children, the nature of the arrangement has evolved, mostly by necessity.



What the young Indians and Pakistanis of Britain have done, in effect, is to modernise practices that had evolved among the urban middle class in India in recent decades, allowing the prospective bride and groom a little more than one fleeting meeting to make up their minds.



The relaxation that had crept in since the 1960s allowed the couple, after an initial meeting before their extended families, to meet alone several times, either with family members in another room or at a restaurant, before delivering a verdict. Now, the meetings take place in public venues without the family encounter first.



"The term we use now is ‘assisted’ arranged marriage," said Maha Khan, a 23-year-old London Muslim woman. "The whole concept has changed a lot. Parents have become more open and more liberal in their concept of marriage and courtship."



Gitangeli Sapra, who at 25 jokes that she is on her way to spinsterhood, is an avid speed dater with no qualms about advertising her love of modern arranged marriages. She even wrote a column about it for The Sunday Times. "It’s not based on love," she said, "which can fizzle out."



Ms Sapra had attended 10 of the more formal arranged meetings — awkward, drawn-out affairs in which the young man, his mother and several other relatives came over to meet the young woman and her family.



None of them worked out, though, and Ms Sapra has moved on to speed dating, with the blessings of her mother.



The very concept raises the hackles of some more old-fashioned parents, but many are coming around, in part out of desperation.



The principles behind an arranged marriage still remain strong — lust does not make a lasting marriage and family knows best. But parents and elders, eager to avoid alienating their children, have shown considerable flexibility.



This is especially pronounced among the middle class, whose members tend to have integrated more into British life.



"The notion of arrangement has become more fluid," said Yunas Samad, a sociology professor at Bradford University, who has studied marriage in the Muslim community.



"What is happening is that the arranged marriage is becoming a bit more open and children are getting a bit more say in this, so it becomes a nice compromise." This new hybrid between East and West has actually stoked enthusiasm for an age-old tradition that many young people privately viewed as crusty and hopelessly unhip.