After going through the emotional kabaddi of talking stage, situationships, intense attachment, sex, and dhoka, Gen Z is giving up on dating apps. Surprise, surprise. They are now finding peace in abstinence and love on matrimonial sites. All our mothers are practically doing a victory dance—looks like we are warming up to the vintage vibe of arranged dating, if not marriage. Of course, Cupid is crying in the corner.
Before you get all worked up and start shaking your head at my generation, hear me out. Our love lives are as yawn-worthy as Bumble’s interface. God forbid two people actually hit it off on a dating app; that thrilling exchange of texts usually fizzles out once it moves to Instagram or WhatsApp. The hookup culture hides something very uncool—loneliness. The club isn’t the best place to find a lover and the bar is where you find more drunk creeps.
Apparently, time is running out for 20-somethings to find true romance and rosemary oil is barely helping anyone with hair loss. The likes of Shaadi.com, BharatMatrimony, and LinkedIn are the last hope. At least nobody feels shy to discuss CTCs.
Dating out, matrimony in
A Hinge veteran checked herself out of the dating game for good after being ghosted by her last match. The man simply stopped responding after two months of spending techno-charged nights at Summer House and brunch dates at Blue Tokai with her. She even had to chase him down to get him to delete her pictures from his phone. In the end, the cost of therapy wasn’t worth all the free swiping.
That’s when she sat down to write her matrimony bio and a “wacky” (as described by her father) list of requirements for the matrimony-minded dudes—Don’t be a mumma’s wonder boy, don’t quote Wong Kar-Wai at dinners, don’t be hung up on your ex, don’t expect me to worship your parents, and more. She’s not holding her breath for a match; it’s mainly a way to keep her parents off her back. And to declare to the world, “Look, I’m trying!”
A fellow journalist is taking the same route. Having heard too many horror stories of disaster dating, she never even felt compelled to make a profile on dating apps. At the ripe age of 25, her mother finally asked her about her love life. Her response? “Well, it’s your job to find me one.”
It’s now the birthgivers’ time to go through catfishing, ghosting, and North Korea-sized red flags. They must prove if they have learned anything from their own marriages or if they’re just adding more grey hair to the family tree.
But hey, not everyone is willing to gamble with their sanity. A Gurugram-based now-married couple didn’t. Even though they met on a matrimonial site, they kept their parents out of the loop for a year. Their talking stage kicked off with a three-hour-long phone call and transitioned smoothly into a relationship after their first date at Costa Coffee in DLF CyberHub. After all, nothing says serious commitment like caffeinated banter.
As an anti-marriage, pro-fun person, I try not to be moved by such success stories. While I can think about deleting dating apps—since I only have so much tolerance for liars, cheats, and wannabe influencers—matrimonial sites might just be the death of me. Let’s see if the circus that is modern dating can break me.
Ratan Priya is a copy editor at ThePrint’s Opinion and Ground Reports desk. Views are personal.
Note: This article is part of a series of columns on modern dating in India—the good, the bad and the cuddly.
(Edited by Prasanna Bachchhav)