It literally just started as a joke.
One evening, over chai and sarcasm, my cousin dared me to create a profile on one of those Indian matrimonial apps. “Just to see what kind of rishtas (proposals) you get,” she laughed. I rolled my eyes. But curiosity and boredom got the better of me.
Within ten minutes, I was on Shaadi.com. Then BharatMatrimony. Then, out of sheer mischief, mudaliyarkannalam.com, a caste-specific gem that looked like it hadn’t been updated since 2007, but had the most intense search filters I’ve ever seen like height, skin tone, salary, horoscope match, father’s occupation, you name it, it was on the site.
At first, it was hilarious. I swiped through profiles like I was browsing furniture. “MBA from the US, fair complexion, seeks a homely girl.” Homely. That word followed me everywhere like a shadow. “Good family background” became code for “same caste, no scandal.” “Modern but traditional” was another classic. And my favorite? “Working professional, but must prioritize family after marriage.” Translation: Work, but don’t forget to cook for the in-laws.
But then, something unexpected happened.
I found myself getting drawn in. Not because I was desperate to marry, but because these platforms were like digital anthropology, exposing how India negotiates love, caste, class, and modernity in the 21st century. One guy had a full PowerPoint in his bio. Another uploaded a gym selfie with the caption “seeking sanskari life partner.“ I couldn’t look away.
It was messy, awkward, and sometimes sweet. One person messaged me asking if I was willing to relocate to Coimbatore “because my mother doesn’t like North Indian food.” Another sent a poem. A third ghosted me after I said I didn’t believe in kundalis.
And yet, I get it now. For many, these apps are serious business. A place where families, futures, and centuries-old expectations collide. It’s not just dating, it’s matchmaking on steroids.
I haven’t found my “match” yet. Maybe I will never not be here, anyway. But I’ve found something else: a strange, chaotic mirror of who we are as a country. And in its way, it’s kind of beautiful.
Just don’t ask me to upload a horoscope. I draw the line there.