Longing and Ruin

No Place to Call My Own by Alina Gufran is a deeply intimate and unflinching portrayal of a woman caught between longing and loss, desire and disillusionment. At its heart is Sophia, a young woman navigating the turbulent waters of love, identity, and ambition—always searching for solid ground, yet repeatedly slipping through the cracks of (un)belonging.

The story unfolds between two defining moments in her life: an abortion she undergoes, driven by what can best be described as an obsession, and a pregnancy she chooses to keep—despite the weight of opposition—stemming from a failed relationship she mourns softly, yet unmistakably. These two events bookend her journey, but what lies between them is even more gripping: Sophia’s desperate yearning for an anchor, her impulse to push it away the moment she gets close, and her relentless struggle to carve a space for herself in the world of filmmaking.

Born to a Muslim father and a Hindu mother, Sophia learns early on to navigate the delicate balance of an interfaith home. She grows up in an effortless confluence—watching her father offer namaz, her mother performs poojas, greeting one side of the family with ‘Salaam’ and the other with ‘Namaste’. For a while, this harmony feels natural, even obvious. But it does not last—neither in their marriage nor in the country. As her parents separate, what was once a quiet negotiation of faith turns into a painful fracture. Sophia is left not just with a broken home but a broken sense of self, one she tries to numb through mindless hookups, alcohol, drugs, and a faltering career in film. But avoidance is not healing, and even as she buries her wounds in reckless abandon, the world outside begins to mirror her inner chaos. The rise of Hindu fundamentalism makes her feel displaced once again—this time, not just within her family but within the country itself.

The book offers a deep meditation on the struggles women endure, not just in their personal lives but also through the complex intersections of class, religion, and region. Each chapter provides a glimpse into a different phase of Sophia’s life, set across cities as varied as Delhi, Prague, Chennai, Bombay, Spiti, Faridabad, and even the online world. What threads these places together is not a sense of home, but rather the stark absence of it—the recurring feeling of unbelonging that follows her everywhere. And in response, she copes in the most self-destructive ways.

At times, Sophia’s journey feels reminiscent of Fleabag from the eponymous series—except here, stripped of humour, her cycle of self-sabotage, reckless substance use, and questionable romantic choices can become exhausting, even frustrating to witness. She moves through life with moments of raw self-awareness, yet repeats the same patterns, as if caught in an endless loop of longing and ruin. However, past the halfway mark, the story takes a refreshing turn, shifting focus to Sophia’s fraught yet deeply significant relationships—particularly with her mother and her best friend, Medha. Their presence brings a much-needed contrast to her isolation, offering both conflict and connection in equal measure.

No Place to Call My Own is not just a story about one woman’s struggles; it is a poignant exploration of longing, displacement, and the quiet resilience of a woman searching for belonging in a world that constantly alienates her. Gufran crafts a deeply introspective narrative, unafraid to delve into the raw and uncomfortable truths of self-sabotage, fractured identities, and the weight of societal expectations. While Sophia’s journey is often frustrating, it is also achingly real—mirroring the struggles of many who navigate the intersections of gender, faith, and belonging in an increasingly intolerant world. In the end, the novel leaves us with no easy resolutions, but perhaps that is precisely its power. It lingers, unsettles, and demands to be felt.

Alina GufranBook ReviewIndian societyNo Place to Call My Ownself-discoverysocial strugglewomen