Opinion Being single — and no, life’s not a party
It is this very assumption that has seen me on shift every Diwali, Holi and Christmas throughout my working years because, obviously, “time with family” trumps time with friends at a get-together, or even by myself lighting diyas in my house.

Not so long ago, after an endless shift at work, I asked my then boss if I could leave a bit early. Irked at my impudence of wanting to leave the office after a 10-hour shift, he snapped, “Yes, you can leave and go get drunk with your friends”.
I wanted to tell him that: a) I am a teetotaler and b) I needed to leave early because the lock on my front door had snapped earlier in the day, and I had to find a locksmith to fix it so as to not spend the night alone in a house in the NCR without a front-door lock.
But being a veteran recipient of the snark and assumptions bitter married people have for single people like me, I quietly left.
It is this very assumption that has seen me on shift every Diwali, Holi and Christmas throughout my working years because, obviously, “time with family” trumps time with friends at a get-together, or even by myself lighting diyas in my house.
Honestly, I don’t, for the most part, mind this. People should spend time with their families during festivals, and if I can play a small (or very big) part in making that happen, then why not?
What I do mind is the myopic assumption that I have absolutely nothing of pressing concern or no task worth pursuing since single people’s lives are only full of endless parties, hook-ups and uninterrupted sleep. Or suppositions that my life is “so responsibility free”, how “I have nothing to do at home”, how “single people have all the time” and “no financial obligations”.
Responsibility and obligations come in many shapes, sizes and forms beyond in-laws, spouse and children. There are ageing parents, siblings or pets to take care of. In the world we currently live in, family no longer means only those linked to us by blood. For me, the term has evolved to encompass friends, flatmates and lovers, some of whom are family to me. I am and will continue to be happily responsible for them.
Philosophising aside, even in a life of pure singlehood and “doing nothing”, there are still some niggling things to take care of: leaking gas lines, flooded kitchens, dripping pipes, ACs that catch fire or monkeys that break into one’s house. There are endless bills and paperwork to be tackled, heavy loans to be repaid, heavy luggage and boxes to be carried across flights of stairs. There are sudden financial crises, severe illnesses, prolonged hospital visits, pandemic loneliness.
And we handle all this with zero support system or a second source of income. As one of my dearest friends put it so very eloquently: “If a curtain rod falls on my head, I will have to take myself to the doctor, get the injuries stitched, come back home and put the curtain rod up myself, because there is no one else to do it”.
Caterwauling all the time about how hard your life is because you have to take care of your in-laws/spouse/children — while saying things like “why are you tired, after all you don’t have children to take care of” or “what do you know about responsibilities” — isn’t quite the winning commentary that you think it is.
But this is not a competition of who has the heavier Sisyphean boulder of misery to carry, or who is the bigger victim trapped by respective life choices. Life is sometimes wonderful and sometimes hard, and it is mostly a mixed bag for everyone, single or married.
National Editor Shalini Langer curates the ‘She Said’ column