‘A jaunty, upbeat take on solo living!’
—Shobhaa Dé

‘Fiercely honest and comprehensive chronicle of living alone as a single woman.’
—Suma Varughese

An Indian woman living alone in India is rare.
An Indian woman living alone in India by choice is rarer.
An Indian woman living alone in India by choice when her parents live in the same city is rarest.

Sumaa belongs to that rarest of breeds to join a tiny clutch of emerging single-person households in the country, ticking all those boxes—woman, single, and ‘past her prime’.

This book is a reflective and an honest take on the culture and politics of an Indian woman living alone through her thirties. With her youth fading and her biological clock running out of battery, the only proposals crossing her desk are the building committee welfare bids for choice of apartment elevation, paint colour, and flowerpots next to the car park. Even there, the judgemental eyes of curious neighbours ask: ‘What? There’s no man in the house to make decisions?’

Rich with anecdotes, this book peels the complex layers of patriarchy, hypocrisy, and the changing social tides that leave both women and men a little more clueless by the passing day. It advocates living alone as a wholesome experience of self-discovery and for women to normalise it like marriage or living with family or roommates. While doing so, in no way does the book claim that living alone trumps co-living (okay, it actually does)!