BANGALORE, India — The three stars and the red-and-blue ribbon on his shoulder strap indicate that M. L. Purushotham is a police inspector. But his unofficial job title might well be this: redeemer of relationships and savior of marriages.
A typical case these days for Mr. Purushotham, who works out of the Yeshwantpur police station in west Bangalore, involved a couple in their 20s, well educated and working for different multinational corporations. She was from the eastern state of Orissa, and he from Tamil Nadu, in the south.
When the young woman walked into the police station, she told of how they had met, fallen in love and moved in together. But after nine months of living together, they were breaking up at the insistence of the man’s parents, who were upset at the violation of tradition. She wished to marry, she said, but he was resisting. The woman asked to file a criminal complaint against him for using the promise of marriage as a ruse.
As tumultuous societal changes transform Bangalore, many young middle-class Indians are struggling to cope. They arrive in the city for work and live away from their families. Unmoored from home and community, many are taking their problems to the only symbol of authority that is accessible around the clock: the police.
An incessant rush of confused young people, squabbling lovers and bickering spouses at the 100-odd police stations in Bangalore has thrust many officers into a role that many never expected when they enlisted. “There is material for many, many Ph.D. theses in these complaints that come to our police stations,” said B. N. S. Reddy, a joint commissioner of police.
Police officers around the world, of course, often take on the role of family mediators as well as crime fighters, especially in cases of domestic violence. In Bangalore, however, many of the city’s young people seem to have the police on speed dial for any and all kinds of relationship troubles.
Mr. Reddy enumerated the reasons for this surge: Urban life is transforming India, and young people want to assert their independence. Women are financially stable, and marital equations are changing. Partners’ expectations of each other have moved far beyond the traditional roles of male provider and female nurturer.
A working woman in her early 30s recently walked into his office to complain that her husband was abusive and cruel. Her husband came later and complained that she smoked, drank and partied too much. He insisted that she be a “traditional wife.” A few conversations later, Mr. Reddy managed to persuade the couple to agree that they had been smoking, drinking and partying together for many months before marrying.
“They needed to adjust to the marriage and to each other,” he said.
The deluge at the police stations could stem from the woeful lack of counseling and mediation services in Bangalore. It could also reflect ignorance of the alternative sources of help that are available.
Of the many young people with personal issues, only a fraction seek professional support, said Deepa Dasgupta, a counselor. “Some don’t know they can get help; others don’t know who to turn to,” said Ms. Dasgupta, who works with companies to counsel stressed-out employees.
At the same time, going to a marriage counselor or a therapist carries a stigma, especially among the poor and the lower middle class, said Sridhar Ramanujam, a branding professional who is also a volunteer at Vishwas, a free counseling service here.
“If you say you are seeing a counselor, some immediately conclude that you must be mentally ill,” Mr. Ramanujam said.
The more serious abuse and domestic violence cases are initially routed, under police protocol, to Vishwas and other services for counseling. Yet a stream of young and unhappy people are flooding the police stations with seemingly frivolous cases that are clearly outside the police’s purview, officers say.
One man complained that his wife spent a lot of time in the bathroom with her cellphone. Was she having an extramarital affair, he wanted to know. A woman came to the police station saying that her workaholic husband returned from the office and immediately switched on the television. She wanted the police to talk him into engaging in conversation with her.
Another griped that her husband invited friends over all the time and that she was expected to put food on the table. A newlywed man said his wife’s mother was constantly calling her and interfering in the relationship.
“Our training teaches us how to put up cases, how to find evidence, how to set the law in motion, but no police academy can prepare you for this,” said S. Badarinath, an inspector at the Cubbon Park police station in downtown Bangalore.
To add to the stress, many in this young and restless generation expect instant results when they walk into police stations. “They think we can create magic, police magic,” Mr. Reddy said.
Some may come in contemplating an official complaint. “But we constantly educate young people that a complaint and an ensuing arrest could ruin any chance of a patch-up,” Mr. Reddy said. “The relationship would be as good as finished right there.”
But more times than not, such incidents end up being resolved happily. Alveera Mustafa, 29, a software engineer with a large company, said she had the police to thank for her now-stable marriage. Ms. Mustafa and her husband, also an engineer, had severe misunderstandings within weeks of their arranged marriage. Ms. Mustafa took her problem to the police station in Whitefield, a suburb. The officer summoned Ms. Mustafa’s husband and guided several candid conversations around a table
“If not for the police,” Ms. Mustafa said, reflecting on those encounters some months ago, “we would have been divorced.”
In the case of the cohabiting Orissa-Tamil Nadu couple, however, the police could not cajole the man to marry his girlfriend. It took the woman many weeks to realize that a marriage held under the threat of a criminal complaint would not work anyway.
Despite the complaints about having to deal with so many personal disputes, many police officers say they get enormous job satisfaction from helping sort out young people’s lives, said Anjumala Nayak, an inspector at an all-female police station in central Bangalore.
“People waylay me in public events sometimes,” she said. “I may not even remember them, and they thank me for saving their marriages.”