Let me begin by saying, I am all for solo dining. In fact, I was a practitioner of solo dining when it was known as ‘people who go to restaurants alone because they have no friends’.
Every time I would walk up to the host or hostess and ask for a table for one, they would look surprised. You have nobody who can join you for this meal, they would ask in hushed tones. I would assure them I did not. Their eyes would first widen in alarm and then crinkle with pity. En route to my table for one, I would notice the waitstaff whispering in a corner, stealing furtive glances in my direction. One of them would approach my table and enquire whether I wanted the other place settings to be removed. I would reply in the affirmative. They would sigh and nod sadly, as if this confirmed their belief that the empty plates were a cruel reminder of my empty life. Sometimes the other patrons in the restaurant would raise their glasses when they caught my eye and murmur, Chin up. I cannot imagine being that sad and lonely, they would tell their companions in a whisper that would carry to my ears. At the end of the meal, I would often get a fortune cookie which I would crack open to reveal the message: Do not be disheartened if you are alone and friendless. At least, it cannot get worse.
Today, things are much better.
In recent times, solo dining has not only become more acceptable but has also acquired a touch of glamour. It is now considered chic to go out for a meal by yourself. No longer marked as a weird loner, the solo diner has become a symbol of confidence, of self-assuredness. But the rising popularity of solo dining has also brought with it a new set of rules and social conventions.
For instance, if you are solo dining at a cafe in Mumbai (Bandra, in particular), it is expected that you keep a laptop - preferably, a Macbook - open in front of you at all times. Books are acceptable substitutes, when laptops are unavailable. If you’re feeling adventurous, you can also try staring into the distance and occasionally scribbling in a journal, as you take sips of your medium roast, manual brew artisanal coffee. What you absolutely must not do as a solo diner, is enter a cafe merely to eat and drink. That sort of behaviour is terribly crass and unbecoming.
As the norms of solo dining have shifted and evolved over the years, I have tried my best to keep up with them and retain my enthusiasm for this pursuit. Yet, even as restaurants and cafes have grown to be more welcoming, I have lately realised there exists a place where solo dining continues to be a challenge; a place where a table with single occupancy is still viewed as an aberration and where eating alone can be a lonesome experience. You may have guessed the place of which I speak: it is the office cafeteria.
When I first started work, lunchtimes were a joyous affair. In those initial months, we were still college students playing at being working professionals. At the stroke of the lunch hour, we would call each other and head to the cafeteria in droves - laughing, joking, and eager to share a meal with friends who were yet to become colleagues.
As we would sweep in and lay claim to the empty tables in the cafeteria, we would often notice them: solitary, gloomy figures hunched over their lunchboxes, enveloped in a brooding silence that seemed to leak out of their souls and stifle the din of our mirth. They would be surrounded by empty chairs but we never dared to approach them. Their eyes would always be cast downwards and they spoke not a word to anyone. We would spend the full hour of the lunch break in the cafeteria but they would leave - heads bowed, faces grim - the moment they finished eating.
We were fascinated by them and would engage in animated debates about their antecedents. They looked so old and haggard. They must’ve spent years in this office and yet they had nobody who could join them for lunch. We would feel sorry for them, shudder at their woeful fate, and then promptly forget about them.
Earlier this week, I was reminiscing about those lunch hours, as I sat alone in the office cafeteria. Over the years, nearly all of my lunch companions have moved on to other jobs and the few who remain are often too busy to eat. This was one of those (now frequent) days when I was having lunch by myself, smiling at the pleasant memories filling my thoughts. My quiet contemplation was interrupted by a raucous group of young associates streaming into the cafeteria.
Annoyed by the intrusion, I focused my attention on my food. I could feel their eyes on me and hear them whispering under their breath. I continued staring at my plate and ate as fast as I could. I longed to get out of the cafeteria to escape the discomfiting feeling of being observed by them.
Suddenly, a cheery voice called out, Would you like to join us? I looked up to see the associates smiling at me. I put down my fork and gave them a cautious nod. They waved me over and began jostling to make space for one more seat at their table. Soon, I was engulfed by their merry ruckus.
Like I said before, I am all for solo dining. But sometimes, it feels good to have company for a meal.
Very weirdly, solo dining seems to be still uncool when it’s not a younger person doing it.
I come across videos sometimes, where a person roughly in their 50s or 60s is eating alone - there is a nice meal in front of them and they look like they’re absolutely enjoying it. But the caption reads “pov: your wife can’t join you anymore” and there is some sad trendy violin music added in the background. They're completely unaware they've been put on the internet.
Replace this guy with a young dude and you have someone who takes “self care” seriously by taking themselves on a solo date. If they’re not going by the headphones, MacBook or journal rule, they’re practicing “being in the present.” This guy filmed himself.
Lovely piece Rohan, really enjoyed it!
A big problem with solo dining, in India at least is the portion sizes. You also end up wasting...so the only place you can go to is a thali restaurant, but then you need to eat in a hurry because all tables are for 2+ people, so eating alone, you are wasting one seat. Or you are shoved into one corner table, near the cashier or the kitchen door (which keeps slamming into you) or worst still, the last table before the washroom door.