Courtship is back, but something’s changed

I was never supposed to be there. I had almost skipped that work meeting, but something made me go. Across the room sat someone who had been trying to meet me for nearly a year after first reaching out over Instagram. Neither of us had expected this to be our first meeting.Afterwards, I opened my phone. There it was, a direct message. “Was it you?”“Yes,” I replied. “It was me.”What followed were weeks of what would once have been called courtship, but really wasn’t. There were plans, long conversations, someone showing up because they wanted to. But beneath it was emotional inconsistency — hot-and-cold behaviour, the occasional ghosting (stopping communication without any explanation).Four months later, he gifted me an iPad after I casually mentioned that my old laptop had stopped working. It was beautifully wrapped. There was no practical reason to refuse it, but I did. The gift itself wasn’t the problem, it was the timing. Despite moments of warmth, our conversations never seemed to arrive at the one question I needed answered: what were we? That contradiction made the gift feel impossibly heavy. Courtship is back | Video Credit: Hitesh Sonar For a long time, I believed the discomfort — of always questioning where I stood in a relationship — belonged only to me. Then I began reporting this story. I spoke to people in their 20s who described modern dating as emotionally exhausting despite having endless opportunities to meet someone. I interviewed people in their 40s who had returned to dating after long marriages and found themselves navigating a completely different landscape. I spoke to psychologists, dating-industry leaders, a novelist, and people who had quietly decided that consistency now mattered more than chemistry.Again and again, they kept arriving at remarkably similar conclusions. What was considered cringe just a few years ago — being vulnerable about one’s feelings, planning date nights instead of Netflix and chill, being upfront about expectations rather than ‘cool’ or indifferent, making custom playlists — were now sought after. People still wanted romance, they simply described it differently.Modern dating is like standing in a supermarket aisleCourtship isn’t making a comeback because people have become nostalgic for the past. It is returning because reliability has become unexpectedly rare. The generation that has learnt ghosting, situationships (romantic or sexual connection without clear labels), breadcrumbing (giving just enough attention to keep someone interested), and nanoships (short, light connections) is now discovering that what feels most romantic is clarity and consistency. They want someone to pursue them because ‘old-school courtship’ signals a person is willing to invest their time in them, and that their time, in turn, isn’t being wasted.The stats bear this out. Dating app burnout is at a record high, and paying-subscriber rates are on the decline: Tinder (4% year on year), Bumble (20%), and the like. In 2026, according to a survey by American market research platform SegmentOS, 53.3% of singles in the U.S. (including those divorced) have opted out of apps. They are looking, instead, at curated offline events. The scenario isn’t too different in India. An early sign was a 2024 YouGov survey, which revealed that 66% of dating app users never meet their digital matches in person. Two years on, youngsters in metros like Bengaluru and Mumbai are ditching digital and looking for local events (curated and otherwise) to hang out with other singles. “Many have an unhealthy relationship with dating apps: they delete them, feel lonely, then reinstall them. Even people who find it exhausting keep going back because sitting with the discomfort of being single often feels worse. The emotional fallout isn’t always dramatic; it’s quieter, a gradual erosion of self esteem and the ability to trust in a relationship.”Sharmila GangulyClinical psychologist, Gurugram Sharmila Ganguly | Photo Credit: Special arrangement Bhumi Khandelwal is a 20-year-old liberal arts student from Pune, and before we talk about romance, she speaks about language. “‘Seeing’ someone, ‘dating’ someone and ‘being in a relationship’ with someone — you don’t know what any of these words mean anymore,” she says, adding that that confusion defines dating today. “We all want genuine connection. But social media makes everyone compare their lives to everyone else’s. You constantly see people posting proposals, anniversaries and grand romantic gestures. Everyone wants a ‘me when’ [a reaction meme used to express feelings or relatable situations] moment.”We are discussing the recent viral proposal atop New York’s Empire State Building, where millions watched two masked strangers climb the skyscraper’s spire and celebrate a relationship online. The comments were filled with people saying they wanted that kind of love. Even though the couple was later arrested for criminal trespassing.It is this longing that sends many young people to dating apps. Yet, Khandelwal believes the apps often produce the opposite of what people are looking for. To test a theory, she and her friends recently created a dating profile on Tinder that contained only one detail: the user was female. There was no photograph. Within a day, the account had received hundreds of likes. “It showed us that people are lonely,” she says. “[Men were clicking any profile they came across] so they could connect with someone, anyone.”But too many choices often make meaningful connection harder. She compares modern dating to standing in a supermarket aisle. “When you have hundreds of options, choosing one becomes exhausting. You keep thinking maybe someone better is around the corner,” says Khandelwal. The result is that attention becomes fragmented. “If I’m talking to five people, maybe everyone gets 20% of my attention instead of one person getting all of it.”This observation surfaces repeatedly throughout my conversations. People want intimacy, they simply struggle to invest deeply enough for that intimacy to develop. As Khandelwal puts it: “Everyone wants love, but not everyone is ready for commitment. Commitment requires time and effort.”Where has the vocabulary of desire gone?Courtship has graduated from mere chemistry, one of its earlier foundations. Now, it looks for effort and deep connection: remembering something small that someone mentioned weeks ago; making plans and keeping them; checking in after a difficult day; giving someone your complete attention.In a recent exchange, novelist Shobhaa De tells me about how she found herself explaining the vocabulary of romance to younger audiences. At The Hindu Lit for Life 2026, she was asked questions she never expected. “What exactly is a suitor?” Another audience member wanted to know what courtship involved. “Was sex included in the package?” Novelist Shobhaa Dé | Photo Credit: Special arrangement While the questions amused her, they also revealed something deeper. “The young seem confused with the vocabulary of desire,” she says, explaining that the language surrounding relationships has changed faster than the emotional needs themselves.“Romance never goes out of style,” she says. “It merely mutates.”In her 2025 book The Sensual Self, De harks back to an older time, 40 years ago to be exact, when she and her yet-to-be husband enjoyed their first guava together in the Mumbai rain, after he decided to tag along for a visit to antique restorer Mahendra Doshi’s atelier on Peddar Road. “We bought two guavas, one for each of us. After all, we didn’t know each other well enough to share the fruit. His bite would leave teeth marks. So would mine. Most embarrassing. I didn’t want to be seen with my cheeks full of half-ripe guava,” she writes. Later, she reveals how he noticed she hated carrying handbags and frequently misplaced combs. So, he went along with her mother’s advise to “purchase a small handbag to hold my comb [for her untamed hair that was always tangled]”. A framed Pablo Neruda poem gifted to Shobhaa Dé by her husband, displayed alongside a photograph of the couple beneath cherry blossoms. | Photo Credit: Special arrangement For De, the “biggest loss is sentimentality: the romantic gestures, flowers, compliments, love notes, shared music, gentle touches. Everything today is so upfront. The mystique is missing”. Her observation captures an irony of modern dating: never before have people shared so much of themselves so quickly, yet struggled to feel truly known.When attention is romanticFor Srida Mitra, a 26-year-old media professional, the problem is what she calls performative vulnerability. “Constant digital interaction can create the illusion of closeness without actual emotional depth,” says the Delhi resident. Endless texting and breadcrumbing can simulate intimacy without building trust. “Emotional maturity and consistency matter to me much more today. I pay attention to how someone handles discomfort and conflict.” Srida Mitra | Photo Credit: Special arrangement A tarot deck Mitra got from a date after she mentioned the first deck should always be a gift. | Photo Credit: Special arrangement Over in Mumbai, Vidhushree Arya, 35, a content creator originally from Himachal Pradesh, has never used dating apps. She is wary of their promise of endless access and possibility, but where emotional fulfilment remains elusive. “What feels romantic today is attention,” says Arya. Viddhushree Arya | Photo Credit: Special arrangement “Somebody actually trying to know me as a person and remembering the smallest details about me. If I tell them I love a particular ice cream, and one day they remember and bring it because I’m having a bad day — that’s romance, that’s courtship.” “Even when you’ve gone on a great date and you like the person, you still come home and keep swiping. You’re trying to see what else is there, is he the best that I can do? I often don’t feel a connect because it just doesn’t feel organic. You go through a lot of people, and everyone feels fungible [interchangeable]. Today, I think the art of meeting in real life and knowing how to start a decent conversation is lacking.”Divya Balakrishnan, 31Stylist, Mumbai Divya Balakrishnan | Photo Credit: Special arrangement Giving more than you receiveIf Khandelwal described confusion, De, a disappearing vocabulary, Mitra, the illusion of intimacy, and Arya, a lack of emotional intimacy, for Pranav Kirti Misra, 41, the Delhi-based co-founder of ready-to-wear fashion label HUEMN, it is the need to invest time. “In today’s world, making time for someone is a very special gift,” he says. “You are not distracted by your phone or the world around you. Your eyes are locked and you are completely present.” Pranav Misra | Photo Credit: Special arrangement Misra remembers a long-distance relationship. Living in different places, they searched for a way to bridge the distance that photographs and video calls could not. They exchanged a single item of clothing through the post as an innocent attempt to experience something uniquely human: how the other person smelled. It was a part of their courtship, a way of feeling a little closer to the other person. “Courtship has always been a part of love,” he says. “[It’s just that] with the expansion of the Internet, people now know so much about each other before they even meet. Earlier, you had to discover someone through conversation and time.”One voice I keep returning to is that of Sagar Dwivedi, 26, an events professional from Madhya Pradesh, who is now based in Noida. He reminds me that despite all the discourse around dating fatigue, there are still people who simply want to love wholeheartedly.When I ask him what he is looking for today, he doesn’t hesitate. “I’m looking for a serious relationship and marriage. But people these days are like, ‘Dekhte hain’ [let’s see].” It’s been over a year since his last relationship, and what he misses is expressing love.He talks about how he travelled four hours by bus from Bhopal to Indore after finishing an event, just to meet someone he liked for an hour. Whenever work took him to another city — Ahmedabad, Jaipur, Kolkata — he would immediately search for train routes, buses and flights that could take him back to Indore for a quick visit. The relationship ended after she moved to London for her studies. “I miss doing those gestures. I want to give more than receive. That’s what courtship is.”IRL dates, pleaseWhat many have forgotten in our world of instant gratification is that courtship is a way to slow down, to discover what comes with love — that it can include longing, rejection, grief, desire, restraint and uncertainty. Radhika S. Bapat, a clinical psychologist from Pune, says, “We tried to outsource love. We thought algorithms could replace guidance, and short-form interaction could replace long-form intimacy.” But while dating apps expanded access, it also normalised endless searching. “Our children are demanding that we turn back time,” she says. “They’re asking for spaces where relationships can grow organically.” Libraries, bookstores, cafés, parks. Places where affection develops without algorithms deciding who appears next. Radhika S. Bapat, a clinical psychologist | Photo Credit: Special arrangement Interestingly, the people building the dating apps are describing the same shift as the people using it — to make dating more curated and more offline. Tinder has moved into IRL (in real life) dating through Tinder Events, which has hosted more than 60 gatherings this year. The League limits users to a smaller, curated set of daily matches and is investing in real-life experiences. Speed-dating and singles events are also seeing renewed interest.For Anukool Kumar, Senior Director and Regional Head (India & Middle East) at The League, the conversation around romance has become noticeably more intentional. “People still want romance, chemistry and excitement,” he says, “but they’re also thinking more carefully about whether a connection feels respectful and reciprocal.”At Sirf Coffee, an invitation-only matchmaking service, human-led matchmaking is the foundation. Members are interviewed, matches are hand-picked based on compatibility and values, and the service facilitates an offline date. “People haven’t fallen out of love with technology,” says Sunil Hiranandani, its London-based founder. “They’ve fallen out of love with transactional dating.” His clients want depth over velocity. “Nobody says, ‘I want to be breadcrumbed by six people simultaneously’,” he laughs. “A 25-year-old says, ‘I’m tired of situationships’; a 40-year-old says, ‘I value peace and consistency now’. It’s the same emotion with better vocabulary.” An offline event by Sirf Coffee | Photo Credit: Special arrangement Reporting this story has changed the way I understand courtship. I began thinking I would be writing about flowers and old-fashioned romance making a comeback. Instead, I found something better. In 2026, courtship looks like giving someone your full attention instead of dividing it between five conversations; checking in without disappearing; making plans and keeping them. It looks like consistency and emotional availability.The fashion and culture writer explores people, identity, and contemporary India.