Teenasai and Jo, Non-Binary, Gay, London
Teenasai and Jo, Non-Binary, Gay, London
Jo: It was September 2016, and I had just moved to Bengaluru and started my postgraduate studies at Christ University. It was a whirlwind. There were new classes, new people, and so much information being thrown at me. It was also the first time I was lonely, and in a new city. I loved being in Bengaluru; the whole South Indian-ness of it got me to connect deeper to my Malayali roots. I had heard of Tinder, and had used it a couple of times earlier. In a new city, I downloaded it for a different reason – to find people who could show me around from their perspectives and experiences. One day, I came across a profile of a person holding a puppy in one photo, and a cupcake in the next. “Cute”, I thought, and swiped right. Teenasai was an Indie singer-songwriter with more than a few coincidental likes as mine. It was a match.
We hit it off on the app because we both happened to disagree with a particular TV show and its distasteful comedy style. Being the first person who got exactly what I was saying about the show, I was in for making this person a part of my life. As we kept talking, we figured that we both liked similar kinds of music, and wanted to do many things in life. We had similar political leanings, and even if we did disagree, we made space for it.
We met for the first time when we decided to go to Echoes of the Earth, a music festival on the outskirts of Bengaluru. I took along one of my Tinder friends because I didn’t want to go alone, and end up in a place where I may not enjoy the company of the person I was going to meet. I realized that it was a mistake, but we couldn’t spend much time together (my fault as I got a random guy into the equation).
A week later, we gave it a second shot. Teenasai invited me to go watch a Sofar gig. We both giggled when I tried to take a picture of the event and the flash went off, and the entire room looked at us in the most awkward moment of my life. Dinner followed, and so did a walk in a park. Over dinner, I said, “My mum would be surprised if I told her that I’m on a date with someone who is not a man.” Teenasai smiled.
Three years later, we’re in London, studying (me, my PhD, and Teenasai, Masters in Music), being activists and living our truth, eating cupcakes on weekends, and dog-sitting until we can have a few of our own. Tinder was our way of finding larger queer communities, some amazing friends and, of course, each other.
Teenasai: Now that you’ve heard most of the story from Jo, here’s a little bit of context from my side. I joined Tinder in 2015 when I moved home (Bengaluru) from Pune after finishing my undergraduation. I had ended a turbulent relationship, and was super closeted. I had just come out to a few close friends, but I had no friends from the queer community. I felt lonely. Tinder was my last resort, and that helped me meet some cool queer people, who eventually introduced me to the community in Bengaluru. I made great friends, went on a few dates, but it was in November 2016 that my life changed.
I came across the profile of one of the most beautiful people I had ever seen, and the bio said everything that I agreed with. I met them with no intention of dating them. I assumed that they wouldn’t be interested. I was just happy to be talking to someone who seemed to understand everything I believed in. The second time we met, at that dinner that Jo mentioned, I had no idea that we were on a date.
It was during that specific sentence about mum that it hit me. The butterflies in my stomach had been real all this while. The rest, as they say, is history (and our future hopefully).
Hayle and Kiran
In February 2018, I landed in Mumbai to work in women’s rights. I’d left my LGBTQ+ support network in London, and I was sad about it. My friend persuaded me to download Tinder, and I was sarcastic about it at first because I didn’t want to date at all. Within minutes, I matched with a woman who introduced me to her WhatsApp group of lesbian friends. I started messaging into the group and everybody responded, and I felt really accepted. A few days later, another woman was added to the group and straight away, I noticed her sense of humor, memes and especially the adorable comments. Plus, she was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. By this point, I’d moved to Jodhpur, and I took a chance to message her directly. I wasn’t expecting anything, but she answered back, and we got along. Over the next three weeks, our messages turned to voice calls and video ones. We were dating each other virtually, and getting to know one another, and things were going well. When I was back in Mumbai, we met and the date turned into spending a week together. Something about being with her already felt like home. Two weeks later, I introduced her to my friends and sister, who were on a holiday in Goa. We had decided to travel and explore new places to get to know each other better. Over the next few months, while we traveled, it became obvious that we were meant to be together. After a lot of planning, visa stress and tears, she moved to the UK. We got married on June 1, 2019, in a beautiful and small ceremony, surrounded by family and friends. It still feels surreal, and I cannot believe that I was so lucky to meet an intelligent, witty and wonderful partner online. We are so excited about our future, and thankful that a chance meeting led us to find each other.
Aswin, 27
I grew up in Kerala, and enjoyed dressing as a girl when I was young. This made me the target of jokes; even the teachers made fun of me. I was fortunate to have supportive parents, but I didn’t share these stories as they were doing everything to give me the best education. I was a high achieving child, and so they never suspected anything was wrong.
Looking back, I woke up feeling fearful about each day. I struggled, and dated women since that’s what I was meant to do. Checking out guys would induce panic, and there was an acute self-awareness that what I was doing was wrong, and people would hate me. There was no concept of gender or sexuality where I grew up, no conversation around it, so understanding myself was a long shot.
In my second year of college, I joined a non-profit organization and moved to Bengaluru. Just having broken up with a long-term girlfriend, and still not being able to truly identify what was amiss, I took a short course in demystifying sexuality.
I joined Tinder in 2015, and was awkward since I had no experience with men. A year, and an existential crisis later, I was on my way back to India from a three-week solo trip to Mauritius and Dubai. On the flight, I decided to delete the app.
But as soon as I landed I got a Super Like notification. Since his location was miles away, I realized there was no harm in talking. He was funny, cute and intelligent, and I thought let’s at least be friends. Over a shared interest for traveling and similar family values we found ourselves on a six-and-a-half hour skype call. A few months later, he came to India, and meeting him felt natural and almost perfect. Two days later, he gave me a ring, a “will you go out with me exclusively” ring, and to this date I wear it. I’ve moved with him, and weekends are spent with our parents in complete acceptance of our choices.