“I don’t think there’s such a thing as love, you know, romantic love. It’s something we tell ourselves, maybe to feel better,” a teary-eyed Kritika says with a smile. She has just logged out of her third online appointment with a therapist who is helping her deal with a “romance scam”.
It started in November. Kritika, who doesn’t want to share her full name, was not looking for love. Past relationships had left her bitter. She enjoyed the single life, busy with house parties and piles of work as an architect at a Delhi firm. But friends insisted she try a popular dating app. “You are 37. We are in the middle of a pandemic. You have needs. Make a BF!” they joked. By the end of the month, she was on three apps, swiping left more than right.
Also read: Why being on dating apps feels different since the pandemic
On a chilly Tuesday night, after closing the office laptop, she began checking one of her profiles. Five minutes of mindless scrolling later, she saw something “worse than the worst nightmare”. A profile with her name, photo, and a bio that went: Available to meet anywhere, anytime. She remembers it like it was yesterday. The account had only one post, a photograph of a scantily-clad woman, face blurred, captioned “Wanna b frnds?”, with Kritika’s cellphone number. She froze.
It was 1.03am. Who could she call for help? Who was…
