I got tired of dating apps and decided to turn my parents into my personal Sima Aunty

Diving headfirst into the arranged marriage pool

“There’s no point talking to you if you’ve made up your mind,” my last situationship said to me, while I was explaining to him why I didn’t want to see him anymore. A week ago, when I first brought it up, this same man had calmly agreed to end our brief rendezvous, only to come back later to argue about it. I was confused. We were not exclusive and we never spoke about where we intended to go as a potential couple. The relationship fizzled out and I decided to end it. I didn’t want to invest time in someone with whom a long-term relationship seemed to be out of the question. So what was the problem?

A week later I met an old friend from school for drinks and we hit it off. While I didn’t meet him with the intention of dating, somewhere during the night, it felt like this could potentially work. Except, he said he wasn’t looking for anything serious at that moment. With these failed attempts at finding a meaningful relationship and the growing number of friends getting engaged or married in quick succession, I was done having the relationship carrot dangle in front of me. So when my hurricane masi forced me to make a list of criteria for a potential partner, I caved.

Even though the list started as a joke to me, something I was doing just to pacify the bade buzurg (elder relatives) so I could go back to binge-watching Koffee With Karan in peace, it gave me some perspective — I wondered if my list is too specific, does a man like this even exist? Cut to a week later, “You can start looking for rishtas, I’m ready,” I blurted out to my parents and before I knew it, I was on the arranged marriage market. This was a mere three months after a heated argument with my parents about not being prepared to find a husband at just 25.

Swapping dating apps for arranged marriage

I tried the dating app route after my first and only relationship met with a disastrous end. I went on dates, invested time in conversations, and clearly stated my intentions of a long-term relationship and my disinterest in random hookups, only to be appalled, irritated and bored to see the pool of potentials. Three years and a fair share of left swipes, failed dates and casual flirtations later, I was done.

I couldn’t sit through any more conversations about favourite colours and Netflix shows, only to find out a month later that the other person’s emotional quotient is that of a radish. Or worse, they’re a part of the ‘not all men’ army who refer to women as ‘females’ and believe ‘Top G’ Andrew Tate has “some valid points”. To avoid unsolicited pictures, a lecture on meninism and an unresolved history of commitment issues, my criteria list went something like this —

• No water signs (they’re way too emotional for an air sign like me)

• Someone who is financially independent and has accumulated some savings

• He has high EQ and IQ

• Isn’t a victim of the ‘raja beta’ syndrome

• Is ideally boyish looking to match my baby face

• Tall (atleast 5’7 because I’m only 5.1’)

• Has a Master’s degree

• Must know basic household skills (the ability to prepare Maggie doesn’t count as cooking)

• Must be a reader, among other things.

I know what you’re thinking — I have unrealistic expectations. But it’s nothing I haven’t heard before. Friends, family and acquaintances alike have called me arrogant for this specific list. But isn’t that what even Sima Aunty is harping on about on Indian Matchmaking? Write down your expectations of a partner as clearly as possible and then look for the one who matches 60%-70% of it. That’s what I’m doing. My criteria is specific, not because my standards are unreasonably high, but because I know what I want.

If I were to continue on the dating app path, I’d have to spend months guessing his intentions and playing the cat-and-mouse game of who brings up the ‘where are we going’ conversation first. Only for it to fizzle out, get ghosted or be told ‘I’m not looking for a relationship’. Frankly, I feel too tired for that. I want to find someone who is ready for a long-term, genuine relationship, just like I am. So after trying out all the apps, from the popular ones to the more evolved ones, and waiting for my guy best friend to drop on one knee, I decided to bet on the last resort. After all, what have I got to lose, right?

If I have to take a leap of faith into the deep end, I’d rather jump into the arranged marriage pool with a floaty than off a cliff into the dating app ocean. So I consciously decided to retire from dating apps and make my parents my real-life Bumble. They can swipe on potential partners for me based on my criteria, run thorough background checks to ensure the skeletons in his closet are as scary as the ones in mine and not more, and apply the expertise of already having been through this process. And this isn’t just me; an article in Mint Lounge recently highlighted that Gen Zs are increasingly turning to matrimonial apps to find a genuine connection with people who have clear intentions.

What’s the end game?

Instead of taking a risk with dating apps, I’d rather take a calculated one in the arranged marriage market. At least here, the goal is clear — I’ll meet people who are on the same wavelength as me and are looking for the same things. I no longer trust dating apps to bring me the right matches.

I don’t intend to get married immediately but my goal is to find a partner who fits at least some of my criteria and is looking for something real. The doubts still persist — we may or may not end up in a marriage, we may be perfect in theory but not practically, I may not be sexually attracted to him or he may find me flaky. Alternatively, I may just find a love match I’d want to marry ASAP.

Regardless, I believe (and hope) that the possibilities of a positive outcome through this route are way more than swiping on dating apps. Plus this way my parents can weigh in with their expertise on which factors I should be rigid on and where I should be flexible. I’m also certain their parental instinct will sniff out bad vibes in under five seconds (win-win). And if I do find my ‘soulmate’, then that’s great. If not, well, who knows, I may just star in the next season of Indian Matchmaking and take Aparna’s legacy forward.