An Artist Is Illustrating People's Real-Life Tinder Tales In India, And They Are Pure Gold

Having cemented its reputation as the ultimate hook-up app world over, Tinder made its way to India circa 2013, and soon it grew into one of the app’s largest markets in Asia. Despite its somewhat recent ‘sanksaari’ make over, Tinder in India today isn’t much different from anywhere else. Users young and old alike swipe furiously at their phone screens, searching for casual sex and fetish fulfillment amongst other things, though there are those that are ‘not here for hook-ups’ as they state on their profiles. Being curious about the kind of experiences people were seeking online, Mumbai-based artist Indu Harikumar decided to curate Tinder stories through an illustrated series.

Being a children’s author and illustrator, she was keen to break out her comfort zone and create something for a completely new audience. After initially toying with the idea of illustrating 100 words of love, her friend chided her cheesiness and urged her to pursue her Tinder series.

Having had a positive experience on Tinder in Europe, Indu even got back on Tinder in India in the hopes of gathering more content for her project. “In Europe, I was exotic because I was different, and men tended to be polite in their interaction, not wanting to “offend” me.” Her Tinder experience in India, however, was in a different realm all together. Being neither rare nor exotic here, she found herself with more online stalkers and Facebook friend requests than suitable matches. “I’m more relaxed on Tinder now, I’m more open about what I’m looking for and don’t get offended as easily,” she says.

Other than drawing inspiration from her personal experiences and that of her friends, Indu also crowd sourced a lot of her content—the result is a collection of hilarious visualisations of tales we can all relate to on some level or the other. With clean lines and bold colours, Indu’s curated quirky, witty and at times cringe-worthy stories that encapsulate, in a way, the changing modes of social interaction and dating in modern Indian urban society.

We’ve posted below some of our favourites from Indu’s series. View the entire project on Facebook and feel free to contact her if you have a story to contribute towards her #100IndianTinderTales.

I. A Night Of Tinder Tears

“The conversation was quite beige – not really fun; not really boring – somewhere in between. He had an artist’s face – a brooding, lovelorn, guitar strumming, bearded cute boy of a man. But he finally had my interest when I heard him rattle off the name of a band that I didn’t often hear, that was also one of my favorites. With that we began our little tête-à-tête that lasted a little less than a week, ending with me meeting him on an impromptu night at a bar.

We spoke about our love for music, art, history, symmetry, and swapped stories about our exes. He told me about his last girlfriend, someone he lived in with for three years, and had broken up with a few months ago. I figured he was on a rebound but was okay. Haven’t we all been there? So all was mostly well – well besides the fact that he kept pinching my arm, and much to my dismay kept saying gleefully – ‘it jiggles!’ it wasn’t such a bad night. Okay, if you think I let that get to me and put me off him, you’re wrong. My luck with Tinder was close to being a myth, and right at that point anything worth salvaging, needed to be salvaged. So as was planned, I met him for another dedicated night out – starting at his favorite bar (and I owe him this one – I have a new favorite now).

Okay, so I was a little frisky after a few beers, and after some deliberate flirting, and nudging each other on, we found ourselves gate-crashing someone else’s party. The night was turning out to be fun, and my date promising, (except for the fact that he kept a strict tab of who had what and made sure I paid for every drink that I was now sculling down like a tanked bone-head). There was the eye-contact, and the gentle brushing of the arms, the oh so slight grasp of the small of my back, the gentle moving of a lock of my hair from my eyes, and tucking it playfully behind my ear, the locking of the eyes across the room, the playing with my hair … he had all my lady parts alive!

Any-who, before this little story turns into a Mills & Boon novella, let me say, it did end with one of the best kisses I’ve ever shared! Good enough for me to throw all caution to the wind, and land up at his apartment, and spend the night laying in his “bed for one” and hearing him tell me repeatedly how beautiful I was. I was in love! Yes, yes, I was! At least for one more night.

The next night, I had figured would seal the deal, and I made sure I looked every bit as enticing as I thought I did the previous night. So like a hungry seductress, I walked into his little apartment, plopped myself on his bed, we put on the music we both acknowledged was “the sign” that there was something here worth pursuing – and the next thing you know, we’re at it like little Duracell bunnies on speed. And then, just while we are at it, he pulls away and starts to cry!

Crawled into a fetal position, this naked beauty of a man, cries… and cries… I try to console him, but nothing can make him stop. He weeps. I put my clothes back on (and also notice that a lock of my hair is missing, that’s just how passionate it was minutes ago). Any-who again – I finally manage to get him to uncoil, to drink a glass of water, sit up, put his clothes back on – and finally muster up the question.

Me: What exactly happened there?

Him: I was saving myself… *sob sob*

Me: huh?

Him: Yeah… I have always thought, that “this thing” has to happen with someone you want to spend the rest of your life with.

Me: But you lived in with your soul-mate for three years. You’re telling me you guys never did it?

Him: No...

Me: That’s ermm… Kind of cool actually… To have a guy think that way.
(Feeling quite slutty about myself right now.)

Me: And why again did you break up?

Him: I found out she was cheating on me…

Me: How?

Him: She was sexting another guy.

Me: So you were holding on to yourself for after marriage, and I sauntered in and forced myself on you…

**silence**

(Has got to be the best story a woman has ever told – I just forced myself on a guy who wouldn’t have sex with his girlfriend of three years and made him cry!)

Me: I’m err… sorry.

**silence**

Me: I had no idea… you should have stopped me or at least told me so.

Him: I didn’t expect it to happen.

(My turn to return the silence, albeit with a mouth open aghast.)

Him: I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have led you on…

Me: I’m sorry I didn’t know (?!?!)

Anyway, the night ended with all the chemistry flying off like coffee foam on a windy morning. I didn’t get anywhere close to dating him, we hung out for a bit, I figured more strange tidbits about him, and narrating these stories became a hobby for a brief time – but I’ve never had a woman not roll her eyes and guffaw a big guffaw every time I tell this story.

So for that, and for one of the best kisses ever, for finding a bar I now love, and for many other wonderful memories, I send him a little wish into the universe, and hope he finds the one he’d like to do it with soon. If he hasn’t already that is… “

II. Offline Problems

“I had had a few bad Tinder dates.

And then I went on another one and we were having a really nice time. We were both a bit drunk and ended up going to her place.

We got more drinks and one thing led to another. We got really comfortable, things were heating up between us. She was sitting very close to me and I could smell something. I couldn’t say what!

I was too drunk and still trying to figure what the fuck it was. Then we were about to make out and I realised, “Fuck! She has bad breath.” That killed everything for me and I didn’t know how to tell her this. Anyhow, I excused myself and got back home and never called her back.

She called me in a few days and I had to take a lot of bullshit from her and I did. I didn’t know what to tell her. Bad breath is a turn off. Period.

But how do you tell someone their breath stinks? “

III. Talking Toes

“ ‘I am obsessed with feet. They turn me on. Like crazy’

We were speaking on the phone for the first time, after a week’s chat on whatsapp, and I hadn’t paid much attention to the first time he said this, but twenty minutes later I knew tonight’s conversation was to be focused on feet.

‘I may not even make love, but I can sit kissing your toes for hours’

Not make love? Okay, it’s not like I want to jump into the bed but I’m a little concerned about my toe being sucked all night long.

‘There’s something about toes. Clean, pedicured toes…so sexy!’

I meet him this weekend, I’d have to go get a pedicure on Friday evening. After work of course.

What about you? What turns you on?

Or maybe I could wear socks. Winter is almost here; sneaker season yay!

‘Are you there?’

‘Oh. Yes. Well, I like everything. I don’t like to focus on one thing alone.’

“But what do you think about toes? Doesn’t the thought of bare toes arouse you?”

What is with him stuck on toes?!

Unmatch. Block. Spend the weekend oversleeping and overeating.”

IV. Romeo From Faridabad

“I hopped onto Tinder after breaking up from a very long relationship. I guess it was the right thing to do. I mean, what’s a better way of getting over having one pretty girl not talking to you than having hundreds of pretty girls not talking to you?

Anywho, my initial experiences weren’t great. Most of the girls I matched with either didn’t respond to my messages, or even if they did and we ended up having decent conversations, they never agreed to meet, for reasons ranging from ‘I have a boyfriend’ to ‘I don’t meet people from Tinder’, ‘I don’t have time to meet’ and ‘I’ve put on a lot of weight’.

Finally, I came across a girl that I hit off incredibly well with. I ended up having uncharacteristically smooth conversations with her, and we found out that we have a lot in common, such as our love for puns, and that we were both engaged in the development sector. She also told me that she is a fan of Ted Mosby from the TV series How I Met Your Mother. A meeting was set up.

Now, for those of you who haven’t seen How I Met Your Mother, Ted Mosby has a penchant for grand romantic gestures. So naturally, for my first Tinder date ever, I decided to go with a huge banner bearing the girl’s name, and held it over my head at the spot where we were supposed to meet. When she arrived and saw me and, with an amused expression, started walking towards me, I put the theme music of the 1970 Hollywood movie Love Story on at full volume on a portable speaker that I was carrying, beside me. When she reached me, I got down on a knee, took hold of her hand and kissed it, and presented to her a small box that on opening revealed a toffee inside. While all of this was happening, a small crowd gathered around us (this was during evening time at the SDA market in Delhi). Incredibly, my Tinder date was quite charmed by this rather cheesy public display of affection, and it went on great from there. We walked around for about three hours, and the entire time there were no awkward silences, no false notes, and a lot of laughter and smiles. However, she told me that she was looking for a serious committed relationship, and I was clear that I was looking to try polyamory, as I still had strong feelings for my former girlfriend. Nevertheless, we decided to meet again, as friends, and keep ourselves open to changing our minds about romantic relationships.

We went on two more dates, and spoke regularly on the phone as well through Whatsapp over the next week; I drew a caricature of her that I gifted her on the second date, and wrote a poem for her that I gifted her on the third. I really enjoyed her company, and our conversations that flowed so well, and was quite besotted by how I felt around her.

However, she cancelled our fourth date, and when I asked her about it she told me that she’d recently met another guy she had matched with on Tinder, who she had completely fallen for on the first date itself. Mr. Perfect Guy has an IIT-cum-IIM pedigree, and a lucrative job with a global consultancy. He’s two years older than her (I am a year younger to her). Most crucially, though, Mr. Perfect Guy too is looking to settle down with a good old monogamous relationship. Oh, and Mr. Perfect Guy isn’t comfortable with her seeing me, or any other guys from Tinder, for that matter.

So, she ends up doing what any self-respecting girl would do: she tells Mr. Perfect Guy that she’s the master of her own life, she doesn’t need anyone to tell her who not to meet, and we continued hanging out.

HAH, of course not. She duly told me that we cannot see each other again, and very nicely offered that we could still text each other. I was quite heartbroken.

Since then, I’ve matched with a variety of other characters, most of whom again made it clear that they won’t see me. I did go on another Tinder date, which was a royal flop. Currently, I’ve been chatting regularly with two girls I matched with on Tinder, both of whom are artists. I’ve hit off well with both, and have already set a date with one later this month. While I’ve mentally prepared myself for most likely being disappointed again eventually, there’s still a tiny ray of hope in my heart, for my happy Tinder ending.”

V. How To Sell Yourself Like A Tampon

“In my first week on Tinder I got zero matches, and against my better judgment it made me feel small, shitty and terrible. As if I’d lost out on some stupid bounty I’d never wanted to be in the running for to begin with. And as penalty for my half-assed, non-committal (did you get the pun?) attempt at Tinder, I would never, ever be getting laid again. It was a very complex kind of feeling to feel.

So that weekend, after three stiff drinks in one of those bars where only stiff men drink stiffer drinks, I reached out to a self-proclaimed Tinder guru friend of mine. Again, against my better judgment.

What He Said: Bro, ekdum simple hai. Pehle ek achha waala bio likh. You’re the one with the penis, so you need to explain first. Tinder kyu download kiya? And don’t say you’re looking for sex.

What I Said: But I am looking for sex.

WHS: Yeah, so are they. But saying it in those exact words makes you a creep. What kind of nice, decent, non-rapey dude uses Tinder to cruise for sex?

WIS: …

WHS: A good looking one. Sorry broseph, but you aren’t that good looking.

WIS: Ha, woh bhi hai. Toh phir kya bolu?

WHS: If you’re really desperate, likh ki tu investment banker hai. Ya MBA kar raha hai. Phir dekhna.

WIS: No.

WHS: Ok. Fuck. I dunno. Aren’t you a copywriter? Sell yourself. Like a tampon.

WIS: Theek. Phir?

WHS: Then change your damn photos. No chick is going to want to fuck you because you have Radiohead as your profile picture.

WIS: No?

WHS: No fucking way. Your first picture needs to be the best picture of your face that has ever been taken. That’s your action shot.

WIS: I’ll take one.

WHS: Then get some shots with all your attractive female friends. Are you still in touch with ****? Definitely get one with her.

WHS: Chal theek.

WHS: Then take a picture with your dog. Aur tere paas toh billiya bhi itni saari hai, unke saath bhi photo kheech le.

WIS: Oh fuck yeah. Got tons of pics with my cats.

WHS: Great. Arre bro, ek idea hai. If you really want to make it obvious that you’re looking for sex, call yourself the ‘pussy whisperer’. But make it sound like you’re talking about your cats.

WIS: No fucking way.

WHS: Try kar le yaar. For science.

WIS: I will smack your face out of shape and it’ll stay that way forever.

WHS: Alright man. I guess you’re set.

So my Tinder bio now contains the following words, mentioned out of order and out of context: borderline, vegan, toker, short, lapsed, pizza, get, tall, Radiohead, beer, denial, piers, anarchist, midnight, listening, read, alcoholic.

I think ‘vegan’ is the real clincher.

Chuck Palahniuk once wrote about the way Amy Hempel writes: “The sentences aren’t just crafted. They’re tortured over.” Also how I would describe my Tinder bio. Italicize the ‘torture’ part of it, if you will. Again, a very complex kind of feeling to be feeling.

But hey, it actually does work. Four hours after revamping my profile I’d had my first match. In the next two days I’d had another. This is a lot for a guy, alright, especially when you like Radiohead and most of the girls you come across on Tinder all really, really ‘♥ coldplay’ (the ‘c’ is almost always lowercase).

Earlier, my refusal to ever use Tinder was supported by my belief that life is its own dating/hook up/happily ever after app. But clearly, life isn’t enough. Or maybe human nature is just fucked. Maybe human nature is fucked because life isn’t enough or maybe the fact that life disappoints us first makes even more comfortable with disappointing ourselves.

Is anyone getting me? Are you on Tinder?”

VI. Dates These Days

“A late night conversation with a friend got me on Tinder. I was always reluctant about installing it, as it is widely used to hook-up but decided to give it a shot. I had no bio, just a couple of pictures but I managed to get about 20 matches within an hour.

I spoke to a few guys, most of them were looking to hook-up but I managed to have a few interesting conversations with a couple of guys and decided to uninstall the app. I kept in touch with one guy. He seemed engaging although we didn’t have anything in common except for our love for pina coladas. We’d speak to each other everyday and after a week, we met.

Five minutes into the meeting, he said, “I have to leave within an hour.” After a while, he disappeared for 10 mins to make a call. He checked his phone from time to time and even worked on his laptop for a while. I avoided using my phone because I think it is impolite.

This guy was very different from his bio and the person I had spoken to. I thought of leaving several times but didn’t. He told me a couple of times that he hates people. By the end of it, I felt like he was trying to run away and get out which left me feeling petty and sad. I couldn’t stop thinking about what I had said or done wrong as this was my first Tinder date. I never went back to Tinder.

I’ve realised that most of us have two sides to us - one for social media and the one we keep to ourselves. And though we are all seeking connections, we are happy to have it from behind our screens and become antisocial when we come in touch with real people. Often we forget that we are dealing with fellow humans, living, breathing, feeling, hurting, real people like ourselves, who are also looking and seeking.”

All illustrations by Indu Harikumar