For all of Manmarziyan’s feminist pretensions, its lead Rumi is a cipher, waiting for validation from the men in her life. Where are the fun, confused young women who end up by themselves and become stronger because of it? Where are the women who bid their orthodoxies goodbye and try to fly solo?

The first language of many North Indians including myself, Hindustani, has no word for romantic bonds outside of matrimony. I use “um” and “er” liberally when referring to my boyfriend, when talking to relatives and neighbours. That’s because there’s no respectable word for “boyfriend” in the language.