M y 22-year-old friend Sid spends Rs. 300 a month on Tinder Plus, because he doesn’t want his girlfriend of six years to know he uses the dating app. He tells me of a woman he met, a 33-year-old with a daughter, who got on the app because her psychiatrist suggested she expand her social circle. Does that surprise you? Well, then, you probably haven’t spent enough time on Tinder.
I started using the app in 2014, a year after it made its debut in India. Like many young Indians before me, I was overwhelmed by the possibilities it afforded. Suddenly, all the proverbial fish in the sea, or at least in my vicinity, were seemingly just a right swipe away.
As the app gained popularity, a rash of made-in-India alternatives entered the fray. TrulyMadly, Aisle, Frivil, Matchify, Woo and more positioned themselves to address concerns that Tinder raised. More security features to ensure women’s safety, niche positioning to tempt more users, interactive features and questionnaires to gauge compatibility were introduced. International apps like OkCupid, Hinge, Bumble and Coffee Meets Bagel also began to gain ground in the Indian market.
However, I’ve never tried an app other than Tinder. A quick ask-around on social media reveals that there are others like me. Out of 30 respondents, 14 have used only Tinder, and the rest have experimented with the app, while also exploring other options more in tune with their needs.
Twenty-six-year-old Sandeep says he uses TrulyMadly because “there aren’t enough Tinder users in Tiruchi,” 26-year-old Sharmadha from Mumbai prefers Hinge because “it connects you only to people with mutual friends” and 26-year-old Chennai-based Sadhana opines that OkCupid’s extensive questionnaire “helps with finding more compatible matches, but the fact that anyone can message is annoying”.
However, the general sentiment of people who prefer Tinder is echoed by 24-year-old Ananya who says, “It is super popular only because it is the least complicated.”
Two years after my Tinder debut, and some otherwise impossible connections later, I stopped expecting the app to help me find love. Because, despite the options app-based dating provides us, it hasn’t made dating any easier — it has only made it faster.
After a while, like most people, I decided to give up. But I still stayed on the app, because unlike Aisle, which requires you to pay to initiate a conversation and therefore prove your commitment for companionship, Tinder is free. So I let it remain in my life, occasionally beeping in the background.
A few months ago, when I shifted cities and expressed concern over the difficulties of making friends, more than one person suggested I try Tinder. “But it’s a dating app,” I objected. “You don’t have to date them just because you meet them there,” said many. However, before I could try this tactic, I reconnected with an old friend in the new city — she had just started dating a man she met on Tinder.
“I’m so glad you are in town,” she said, when we met. “We should get on Tinder Social together.” Tinder Social, which was introduced in India last year, is an option that helps you use the platform to socialise.
All you need is a friend, and you can meet many more by forming your own dynamic group. This, effectively, invites many who are married, committed or just looking for friends to infiltrate the app.
A week later, I was hanging out with a couple of friends. (No, I did not meet them through the app; though Tinder, as it usually does, did creep into the conversation.)
Rahul, who is gay, had modified his setting to only come across profiles of men looking to meet men. It spiked my interest: when there are apps that specially cater to the gay market — like PlanetRomeo, Grindr and Scruff — why would gay and bisexual men still choose to actively use Tinder?
Tinder, which has become synonymous with app-based dating in India, is considered a hook-up app in the West. However, given the diverse aspirations of the Indian demographic, its identity here is dynamic. Most dating apps tend to express their purpose through specifics — TrulyMadly positions itself as “your virtual bestie” who wants to set you up; Matchify is for a “meaningful relationship” and Aisle is for “connecting eligible Indians worldwide”. Tinder just says “the people we meet change our lives”. By promising nothing more than a connection, and romanticising the possibilities of said connection, it remains easy-to-access and inclusive.
This means Tinder is often host, and users privy to people with intriguing aspirations. A modification of my preference settings to include women, and broaden age and location criteria, revealed an overwhelming change. I came across profiles of transexuals, married women posing with their children, masseuses offering their services, couples calling for a ménage à trois, and a family friend, whose wedding I attended four years ago.
A social media question about Tinder experiences contributed to the narrative: Eight women and one man came forward to say that they got on the app just to make friends — an option, as a male friend pointed out, largely afforded to women, as the app itself is skewed in our favour. Many others, of both sexes, said they made friends by chance.
Siddharth from Chennai cheerfully announced that he found two business connections on Tinder, while Aashna from Mumbai mentioned she received a job offer. Srinivas recounted the story of a woman “who insisted I come over immediately at 1 a.m., and when I refused, unmatched me”, and Navya admitted to getting on the app in the hope that Tinder would help her find a groom. Nandita once came across a man scouting for a travel companion and Roshan used the app to discover his sexuality. It sure feels like the app offers a world of possibility, doesn’t it?
Tinder, which is arguably the most-used dating app in this part of the world, doesn’t offer love, relationships or even a hook-up. All that is up to the individuals using the app, who are often confused, complex and plagued with ever-changing needs. So, even as people try apps that cater specifically to their interests, they also stay on Tinder, because it comes with fewer constraints and promises more connections. So for many, like me, who have an off-and-on relationship with dating apps, the affinity for this new-age way of finding companionship is possibly best expressed by 24-year-old Fabiola: “It’s just like life, isn’t it? You need to swipe through a massive number of random profiles before you match with one that you really like.”
Try out Tinder’s Competition:
Hinge: You better have a wide friends circle, because you need at least one mutual contact to land a probable match on this app. Might add to the reliability factor, might also keep you encapsulated in a social bubble.
TrulyMadly: A tedious verification process could mean more security, though word on the street is that married men still manage to slip through the cracks. The app also offers games to give you fun ways to engage with matches.
Aisle: You prove your commitment for companionship by paying to initiate a conversation. But, people are sneaky, sometimes creepy: users say some just seek you out on social media to send you a free message.
Woo: Hashtag your preferences and look for someone with similar interests. This is your chance to make sure you get some #cheesecake together on the first date.
OkCupid: An extensive questionnaire means that the more you reveal, the more likely it is for search algorithms to show you someone with most similar interests. Biggest snag: the playing field is open for anyone to message.
