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For better and worse: Pandemic-era love stories
Even 2020 had some happy endings. On Valentine’s Day, meet couples who found that most elusive of things — love — in the midst of a lockdown.
Love was in the air in a rather literal way in 2020, as the internet became the safest place to meet in the pandemic.
The number of Indians on dating apps jumped from 18.4 million in 2019 to 31 million in 2020, according to the German data forum Statista. With offline dates and hook-ups off the table, the nature of interactions changed too. People were talking more. Three months into the lockdown, Tinder found that people were exchanging more messages than before, with conversations up 60% in volume and 28% in duration since just before the lockdown in India. OKCupid saw matches go up by 12%. Bumble has reported a 38% increase in video and voice calls in the 10 months since late March, when India announced a hard lockdown that would eventually last 68 days.
“I think the pandemic forced people to evaluate their relationships. It became clearer to us all what we needed in our lives and what needed change,” says Shahzeen Shivdasani, a relationship consultant at Bumble India. “People were making more meaningful connections as the physical aspect was completely removed during the lockdown.”
In a time riddled with uncertainty, as people around the world reached out to form new connections with neighbours, acquaintances, singles were also rethinking how they defined love and relationships, returning to the fundamentals and asking what was most important to them, says counsellor and dance movement therapist Arati Kedia.
“For people who started dating at this time, relationships became intense, because of the conversations they were having with each other,” says counselling psychologist Ajanta De, co-founder of Innersight counselling and training centre. “That also meant that the breakups were equally intense and hard to get over, because even though people had just met, what they went through together in the early days of the lockdown, when uncertainty led to vulnerability, that deepened relationships
Companionship and conversation took priority in many cases. Friendship came before romance. Dating, effectively, went old-school — long drives, all-night phone conversations, simple moments treasured because the next meeting was so far away.
“Our first date was the first such date I’d been on where we actually talked, with no filters,” Devlina Sinha, 29, one of the six couples we spoke to who found love in the pandemic.
“Trying to meet her brought out the film hero in me,” says her partner Varun Kumar, 31. “I’d load bags of groceries into my car and, if stopped, say I needed to deliver them. Or take my kitten along and say I was going to the vet.”
Hurdles were faced together and tackled, rather than treated as a reason to move on. Joshna Joseph, 27, an only child, says she was disorganised and unused to chores when she first moved in with her partner, Conroy D’Costa, 28 and a neatness freak. “He was patient and caring and helped me become a bit more disciplined,” she says.
Each of the six stories is also a reminder of the power of love. “The lockdown would have been so much worse if I hadn’t had her to spend it with,” Karthik Yermunja says of Kashika Gupta. “On our second date he promised that he would always make me chai, whenever I wanted it,” Devlina Sinha says of Varun Kumar. “I think the lockdown would have been horrible, it would have been much worse if we hadn’t had each other,” Ankit Dutta says of Nilanjana Parashar.
This Valentine’s Day, meet people who met virtually, fell in love and made it work, through a lockdown in the midst of a pandemic, proving that even 2020 had at least some happy endings.
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A Capital romance
Karthik Yermunja, 34, and Kashika Gupta, 28
They’d only been on a couple of dates when they decided to move in together.
“There was going to be a lockdown, and I was alone in a city where I didn’t know anyone and didn’t speak the language,” says Kashika Gupta, a transaction analyst who moved from Delhi to Bengaluru for work in September 2019.
She and Karthik Yermunja, a Bangalore boy and a product manager at an electric vehicles startup, had really hit it off on their first two dates, and “I didn’t want to be alone through the impending lockdown,” she says.
Gupta gave up her flat and moved into Yermunja’s. “Nobody expected that the lockdown would last that long,” he says, laughing. “But it was a blessing in disguise, because we became flatmates first and then fell in love.”
In their first few months of sharing a space together, they learnt about each other’s quirks and different cultures. They cooked together, bonded over their morning coffee, and went on short staycations.
They started feeding stray dogs together, something Yermunja says he’s always thought would be nice to do, but never would have done on his own. “She is empathetic and passionate in a way that made me want to be that way too.”
Gupta describes him as “a walking, talking Wikipedia”, someone who has some information on almost anything she wants to know. “He has a weird interest in the World Wars and he insists on telling me about it,” she says, laughing. “I used to be a person who hated metal music... I still do, but now I understand it,” she says.
Even the clashes have been productive, they say. “We want each other to be better as human beings and with our extended relationships,” is how Gupta puts it.
Yermunja eventually introduced Gupta to his family, and Gupta told hers about him. He’s making his way to Delhi this weekend to meet them.
“The lockdown would have been so much worse if I hadn’t had her to spend it with,” he says.
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Tale of two cities: A Mumbai-Pune match
Priya Dali, 25, and Meera K, 24
They matched on Tinder in March and seemed to like all the same things — art, bookstores, long walks. But Priya Dali, a freelance illustrator, was in Mumbai, Meera K, a Teach for India fellow, was at least 100 km away in Pune, and a nationwide lockdown was about to be enforced.
It would be six “excruciating” months before they actually met. In the lonely meanwhile, they bonded over hours-long Zoom calls in which they “really talked”, got to know one another, complained about work and just kept each other company.
They found in each other, they say, just the thing each needed in her life. In Dali, Meera found a patient listener and a veteran worker-from-home with helpful tips to offer. In Meera, Dali found an A+ motivator. “If you need a pep talk, she can totally bring it,” Meera says.
Once restrictions eased, Dali took a trip to Pune and they met, for the first time, in September. “It didn’t feel like I was meeting a new person, since we’d had all sorts of conversations by then,” Dali says.
She stayed for two weeks, time they spent cooking, geeking out over children’s books, visiting cafes and bookstores, and going on long walks.
Dali and Meera have visited each other several times over the last few months. The night-long Zoom calls will continue, though, since they’re going to be in separate cities for the foreseeable future.
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A way back into love
Devlina Sinha, 29, and Varun Kumar, 31
It had been almost five months since his last relationship ended, almost five years since hers. “I was going through the process of rewiring my brain,” says Devlina Sinha, an event planner in Mumbai, “and Varun was spending the lockdown recovering from a long-drawn-out breakup.”
But the stars aligned, and when they met for their first date in June, Sinha and Varun Kumar, a supervising producer for web shows, ended up on a long drive with no destination, “talking about everything”.
Having spent the first three months of the lockdown alone, they were starved for conversation and companionship. “It was the first first-date I’d been on where we actually talked, with no filters,” Sinha says. “It was like being 16 again.”
Neither had expected much success from the date. “I almost cancelled on him. I had been single for a long time, and had gone on dates over the years that didn’t amount to anything. A friend pushed me to meet him,” Sinha says. “I guess when you’re on a dating app for a while, you get desensitised to the idea of a relationship,” Kumar adds.
After that first date, they knew they’d be meeting again. The only thing to figure out was how to cover the 10-odd kilometres between their houses, while still in lockdown.
“It brought out the film hero in me, you know,” Kumar says. He’d load bags of groceries into his car and, if stopped, say he needed to deliver them. Or take his kitten along and say he was going to the vet.
In addition to a romantic relationship, it felt like a budding friendship, something neither had experienced before. “I can honestly say I’ve become a more inward, calm and compassionate person after meeting Devlina,” Kumar says. “I used to be hot-headed. She has contributed to making me a saner person.”
For Sinha, one thing sealed the deal. “On our second date he promised that he would always make me chai,” she says, “whenever I wanted it.”
They plan to meet each other’s parents soon.
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Cupid at work in Guwahati
Nilanjana Parashar 20, and Ankit Dutta, 26
Nilanjana Parashar, a law student in Guwahati, and Ankit Dutta, a civil services aspirant, have lived 20 minutes away from each other almost their entire lives. They’ve walked the same streets, gone to the same stores and dined at the same restaurants, but it took a match on OKCupid for their paths to cross.
And even then, a real meeting would have to wait, because three days after they matched, the lockdown was announced. They spent the next couple of months on the phone, sharing random thoughts and long-held dreams.
“It was around mid-April, during the Assamese festival of Bihu, that we decided to video call for the first time,” says Parashar. “I made the first move by suggesting it.”
What followed was the familiarity of a routine they built for themselves: Calls after breakfast, after lunch, before bed.
While they waited to have their first date, Parashar and Dutta decided to have a virtual one. They dressed up, made themselves some noodles, and sat down, ready to present their best selves to each other. “It didn’t go as planned,” says Parashar. “It was awkward because until then we had just showed up in our pyjamas, lolled in bed. There had been no pretence. We realised this was not who we were.”
That was their only virtual date. But their feelings grew over the lockdown and they did both wonder what it would be like to go on a conventional movie-and-dinner date.
When they finally met in May, it was splendid, says Parashar, even though there was nothing conventional about the outing. “We went grocery shopping at the local market. I thought it was going to be a little awkward to bargain in front of him…”
“So that’s why you didn’t bargain that day!” Dutta says.
“I had never had so much fun buying groceries,” says Parashar.
With roots in the same region of Assam, Parashar and Dutta found they had many shared experiences growing up. “We understood the inside jokes, etc,” Dutta says. They’re both foodies and have found ways to cook together, even though they both live with their parents.
“Our sense of humour matches,” says Parashar. “He finds me funny and I find him funny.”
Dutta turned out to be a calming presence in Parashar’s life, while Parashar brought the fun and games during a stressful time.
“I think the lockdown would have been horrible, it would have been much worse if we hadn’t had each other,” says Parashar. “We were worried about what was happening around us, but amidst it all, we shared something that was unique.”
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Lots of adjustments, and one adoption
Conroy D’Costa, 28, and Joshna Joseph, 27
They went to the same Mumbai school, but he was a year senior and they never interacted. When Conroy D’Costa and Joshna Joseph did connect, it was on Instagram, more than a decade later, in January 2020.
“For months we chatted continuously over text, and we finally met in June, a few months into the lockdown,” says Joseph. To make that meeting happen, D’Costa got on his bike and rode 60 km to Badlapur, on the outskirts of Mumbai, where Joseph lived.
“There were still a lot of restrictions, but I picked her up and we ended up spending the whole day together. We talked about our lives and careers,” says D’Costa, a business development manager. “On that first day, we decided it would be good if we could find a place in the city together.”
His parents were on board, hers took a little convincing. But the two were so convinced of it themselves that “we made a compelling case,” says D’Costa.
A month later, after many 120-km bike rides to and fro, they moved into a flat in the western suburbs. “I had found a new job close by,” says Joseph, a quality assurance manager with an F&B company.
Adjusting to each other’s quirks took a while. Joseph, an only child, was disorganised and unused to chores. D’Costa is a neatness freak. “He helped me become a bit more disciplined,” Joseph says, smiling.
Conroy, she adds, is caring and patient. He even got her a Rottweiler after she showed him a picture of one that she saw. They’ve named him Bob.
“Even though it’s quite a bit of work cleaning up after him, and most of our fights are over him, I wouldn’t replace him with any other dog,” laughs Joseph.
Any second thoughts? “It’s going to be a year soon and I think we’re doing okay,” says D’Costa. Joseph concurs. “Everything happened so fast and with such ease, it’s all a bit of a blur now,” she says.
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Locked down: Making it official in Bengaluru
Rupini M Dharan, 26, and Vikas Bekal, 39
For Bengaluru-based Rupini M Dharan, a digital marketer, and Vikas Bekal, who works in IT, the lockdown served as a pre-marriage trial run in disguise. They’d connected on a dating app a year before the lockdown. In March, with the prospect of being separated for an unknown period, they realised they’d rather just make it official.
Bekal moved into Rupini’s flat and, by November, they were engaged.
It sounds fairytale but it wasn’t, they admit, laughing. The initial days of living together were difficult, since they’d both lived alone for a while. “But each day taught us to deal with our differences,” Rupini says. “We discovered we both love to cook, dance, play Uno. We share the chores, which usually involves a lot of laughter and mischief.”
The lockdown was also peppered with date nights. They’d cook for each other and share a meal with wine (when they could get their hands on it) and music. “Our cat Mango, who I had adopted before I met Vikas, provided a lot of entertainment.”
Living together confirmed what they’d suspected, that they had the same values and interests.
Rupini says she found Bekal to be more supportive than she’d expected. He was there for her, she says, even when he couldn’t sometimes fully understand where her bouts of depression were coming from.
“The idea of mental illness was new to him,” she says in their engagement video. “So he read a lot of articles and books on it, and he helped me cope with those tough periods.”
True to form, it was she — the more extroverted and romantic of the two — who proposed. “The lockdown would have been really lonely without Vikas,” she says.
(With input from Vanessa Viegas)
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