Ranveir, 27, is a high-profile accountant with a high-profile MNC.
And yes, that’s how he describes himself.
He likes his matcha tea and his sourdough bread, and twice a month, he likes walking his dog on weekends. Ranveir guffaws at racist jokes, and occasionally ghosts a nice guy because ‘things are moving too fast, and I can’t handle all the expectations of this relationship’.
While the fact that he spells his name that way might ring a warning bell, something else seals the deal.
Ranveir is a self-proclaimed sapiosexual. How does it change anything?
Let’s get it straight. The word sapiosexual is thrown around as casually as the phrase ’sane and sorted’ is used on Grindr. It’s a security blanket used by boys to keep the douchebags away (completely unaware that it makes them sound like one too), assuming it’s going to draw in a string of smart, suave and eligible men straight to the bedroom (and beyond). But that’s the thing.
All the smart, suave, eligible men are taken.
And they don’t call themselves sapiosexuals.
Quite frankly, the term has become so commonplace on dating apps, that it’s right alongside a man’s vital stats, and assurances that no, the baby in the picture isn’t his own. What is sapiosexuality then?
Is it a sexual orientation for people who think that they’re too smart to have a sexual orientation? Is it a pretentious word people use to smarten up their brain muscles? Is it a cause for all the rebels, the misfits and the rule-breakers who’d prefer a book to a booty call?
If you like my boys brainy over brawny, you’ve come to the right place. So how can you tell whether Mr Intelligent is a real sapiosexual or not? Well, it doesn’t need to be a brainteaser (pun intended), because here’s how you find out:
The sapiosexual craves intelligence like a bottle of Pinot Noir.
But he also craves sculpted torsos and bubble butts.
His profile name on Grindr is a succinct ‘Sapiosexual’. No other details are given.
He has an OKCupid profile, but he hardly uses it. He feels that it’s not ready for the Indian dating pool.
The Sapiosexual only ever wants emotional maturity and open-mindedness. He knows it’s entirely subjective.
He says things like ‘the brain is the largest sexual organ’, and actually believes it.
He’ll also tell you that he prefers ‘a great conversation to a great make out session’. But he won’t make eye contact as he tells you that.
He feels a Schrodinger’s cat meme is better than a regular cat meme.
The Sapiosexual eats quotes by Rumi for breakfast. He washes it down with no-foam, soymilk latte and sarcasm.
He’s an atheist, though he’ll begrudgingly believe in god when he has an important exam or an interview coming up.
He lists Haruki Murakami as his favourite author, but his bookcase is stacked with Jackie Collins potboilers.
A great debate on Post-Structuralism gets his theoretical juices flowing.
He’ll tell you that he doesn’t identify with any particular group, unless you count a Facebook community with a lot of grammar memes.
He gets excited by Charles Bukowski quotes, and loves whitewashing them on Instagram with the Valencia filter. He gets upset when no one likes them on his feed.
He uses words like ‘erotic economy’. He’ll scoff at you when you ask him what it stands for. He’ll show a sudden interest in the weather when you prod him to explain.
He’s a self-proclaimed grammar Nazi.
But he won’t tell you that he gets confused between your and you’re. Whenever he needs to use either in an email, he’ll do a quick Google search for the correct option.
He likes smart men like he likes Paulo Coelho’s Alchemist.
Easy, cheap and within reach.
He gets irritated when Tumblr doesn’t acknowledge his sexual preferences or orientation. He writes a giant post about his ordeal. It doesn’t get any reblogs. He deletes it soon after.
He’ll pester you to read his button poetry. It’s actually a verse of badly written haikus. You’ll lie to him, and tell him it’s the best thing you’ve ever read, just so he buys you gluten-free beer after.
He doesn’t fart in front of anyone. Even his pet dog.
He just wants someone for whom ‘philosophical discussion is foreplay’.
He says his sexual kink is having a three-way with two MENSA members.
He’ll lie and say that his hobbies include making his own sourdough, attending art openings, taking photos with a fisheye lens and conceptual Halloween costumes.
He feels like he’s better than most of the world, including you. He’s lying about that as well.
The Sapiosexual confuses Stephen Fry with Stephen Hawking. He wonders why anybody would want to watch a Theoretical Physicist perform a live comedy act, but doesn’t ask anyone.
He has a strict ‘No-sex-on-the-first-date’ policy because he feels that you ‘only get attracted to someone the longer you get to know them.’
But that’s the thing; the Sapiosexual will end a conversation on every dating app by asking for your dick pic.
And he won’t send one back.