A Scary Grinder Trap

 A few weeks ago, I received a random Instagram message from someone I didn’t know.

"Beware of people in Nandanam," it read.

Since I actually live in Nandanam, I replied immediately.

"What do you mean?"

The sender, a man we’ll call Varun, explained that he wasn’t talking about my neighbours or the area in general. He meant people on Grindr, the dating app.

"I don’t even use Grindr," I told him.

"That’s fine," he said. "But I lost money. A lot of it."

That caught my attention. "Tell me everything."

Varun hesitated at first, but after some reassurance, the whole story came out.

He had matched with someone on Grindr who invited him to meet at Nandanam Metro. When they met, the stranger insisted Varun should come to his place instead. He led him through a gate near Nandanam Metro, saying it was nearby.

But nearby turned into a long walk down a rough, deserted pathway, almost a kilometre, until they reached an old, abandoned building. No house. No flat. No hostel. Just a crumbling structure.

Varun asked, "Where’s your place?"

Before the man could answer, four guys appeared out of nowhere. They acted like complete strangers and began questioning them aggressively.

"What are you doing in our college ground?"

The tension escalated quickly. The four surrounded them. At first, they pretended to attack the man who had brought Varun there. Seconds later, the pretence dropped, and they turned on Varun.

They snatched his phone, scrolled through it, and began threatening him about his sexuality. They demanded money, punching and hitting him until he transferred ₹1,000. Not satisfied, they forced him to call his father for ₹5,000 and then a cousin for another ₹5,000. By the end, Varun had sent them ₹11,000 via UPI.

But it didn’t stop there. They sexually assaulted him. At one point, while forcing Varun to perform oral sex, the man filming reached into his pocket to take his phone, and in the process, an ID card slipped out. Varun saw it. A college ID.

The men forced him into acts with seven people, recorded everything, and made him say on camera that he was gay and used Grindr. Before leaving, they deleted their chats, erased call logs, and blocked themselves from his account.

When I met Varun, the only lead he had left was that UPI ID. I coaxed it out of him because I knew he wouldn’t easily talk further.

But I couldn’t let it go. My gut told me this wasn’t an isolated case.

I made a Grindr profile and waited. About a week later, the same group approached me with almost the same script they had used on Varun. I asked for a photo and a number. They shared thinking they can get rid of them when I become their victim. I took snaps of the photos and numbers using a different phone. Varun later confirmed their identity.

I called them almost mocking, but he was confident, he challenged me to do whatever I feel like. I saw high amount of confidence in his words until I hinted that I could trace their UPI ID. Then, they blocked me.

I posted their photo on Grindr with a warning. Within a week, twelve people messaged me. Nine shared their stories, and they were very identical.

Amounts stolen ranged from ₹5,000 to ₹30,000. One victim, a North Indian worker, was beaten while being told, "You people from the north are spoiling us," before they took ₹5,000 from him.

Among these nine stories, one took my attention a man actually decide to resist them, the gang got agitated over his fearless attitude. But they smashed a beer bottle on his head. Bleeding heavily, he chose to run for his life, leaving his phone behind. He was hospitalised and later filed a police complaint saying only that he had lost his phone. When I told him, "If you make a real complaint, I’ll stand by you," he shook his head. "No. I can’t."

Each stories left me angrier. I gathered what I could, including three photographs, two numbers, and that one UPI ID. But without victims willing to speak officially, my hands were tied.

Still, I wasn’t going to stay quiet. I used Grindr itself to spread the word, posting their pictures and detailed descriptions. It made some difference, and people were more cautious, but it still didn’t feel enough.

So, I tried another route. Using an unauthorised SIM, I called the college which whose ID card was spotted (not sure). At first, they refused to connect me to the principal. When I hinted this could become a legal matter, I was put through. I explained that their back gate was being misused for crimes like robbery and assault.

The principal replied, "It might not be our college. The XYZ college next door shares the same gate, and there’s a broken wall connecting us. I can’t take responsibility until we know which one it is."

Fine. If he wouldn’t act, I’d make sure someone had to think about it. I wrote detailed letters to both principals, printed and attached the photographs, and explained there were seven attackers in total. I sent them via registered post with acknowledgement letter from a fake address.

I don’t know if they took action. But now, at least, they know, and they know someone is watching.

These men may feel untouchable. Maybe they think people will keep quiet out of fear or shame. But I’m not going away. Not yet.

I could have stayed back and told myself I had no role in any of this. But something in me refused to. I felt like helping, even if all I could do was warn others and gather bits of evidence. Deep down, I know what I did may only create a 0.1% change in the larger picture of this crime. At the end of the day, the real voice that matters is the victim’s, and without it, the fight remains incomplete.

I am sad that I couldn’t take it further, but at the same time, I find some comfort in knowing that my letters and warnings may have left an impact. Whether these men continue their activities or not, I strongly feel they won’t be able to carry them out as openly in Nandanam anymore. And if even one person was spared because of this, then it was worth it.

I know it’s sad, and I know it’s wrong. But all I can say to the world is this: please be safe. We never truly know the person on the other side of the screen. Be cautious when it comes to meeting someone. Always look for a real conversation first, and never blindly trust anyone who refuses to open up about themselves. If something feels off, don’t ignore it, walk away immediately. Remember, using these apps is not illegal; they are not banned in our country. So stay strong, and even if someone questions you, know that you have every right to stand your ground.

Let's act smart and be safe :)