You know, one of those moments when you hear something and think, wait, are we doing this? That was me last Tuesday, sipping on my lukewarm oat milk latte, when I heard our founder say,” We’re pivoting into Indian dating”
I turned and blinked twice.
It turns out to be true; we are indeed building a dating app for India. Right here, in this office. Where half the team barely makes any eye contact, and people treat Slack reactions as a form of emotional currency.
I got curious and dug deeper into this thing. Apparently, the logic is that matrimony sites are a huge deal in India. We’re talking tens of millions of users on platforms like Shaadi.com, Jeevansathi, Bharat Matrimony, and even super-specific ones like mudaliyarkannalam.com (yes, that’s real, I checked). This matchmaking market isn’t just thriving; it’s thriving with filters such as caste, community, profession, height, skin tone, education, location, and many other factors.
And here we are, your friendly neighbourhood B2B SaaS startup turned would-be Cupid.
Of course, the devs are already spiralling. One asked if “bio-data compatibility score” was a real thing. Another tried to build a mock profile and got stuck on “sub-caste optionality.” The head of product spent a whole day debating whether to add a “parent view mode.”
I’ve overheard debates on the ethics of arranged love, the UX flow of sending a rishta, and whether to include a filter for “willing to relocate to Canada.“ This is the same office that once forgot Valentine’s Day entirely, and now we’re designing for the most emotionally layered dating market in the world.
One engineer looked at me and said, “I’ve never dated anyone. Now I’m writing the matching algorithm for someone’s marriage.” I handed him a samosa and wished him luck.
And all of this is very exciting. India’s population is primarily young adults, mobile-first, and increasingly sceptical of both parents and Tinder. There’s real space for a modern, respectful, and culturally aware dating app that understands the tension between family expectations and personal choice.
But let’s be honest: we’re a San Francisco startup that just learned what “kundali matching” means last week. The learning curve is steep. The ambition? Even steeper.
Now, between DoorDash deliveries and resetting the printers again, I’m watching my company try to rewire Indian matchmaking with React components and Figma prototypes. It’s chaotic, but you can’t deny its brilliance.
And who knows? Maybe we’ll pull it off. Stranger things have happened.
After all, if someone can find love through Mudaliyarkannalam.com, we may have helped build the next big thing in Indian dating.
Just don’t ask me to beta test it. I’ve already seen enough drama at the front desk.