Crossroads of Identity

Young author Alina Gufran’s debut novel, “No Place to Call My Own,” revolves around the complex and twisted life of its central character, Sophia. The novel begins with the love affair between Sophia’s mother, who is an Arya Samaj Hindu, and her Muslim father. Their marriage took place under the watch of the father’s family, while the mother’s family refused to attend, which means the marriage was against their family’s wishes. Despite a rebellious love marriage, the couple soon began to have conflicts, and their quarrels often escalated into slurs about each other’s religion. The father called the mother a “stingy baniya,” while the mother didn’t hesitate to call the father a “filth-lover.” This growing estrangement drove them further apart, but the one who suffered the most was Sophia, also known as Mehak by her mother. The novel’s story unfolds with the complexities of this central character, Sophia or Mehak, and the duality of “Namaste and Salam.”

Alina writes that her parents’ unceremonious separation and a life of oscillating between two homes made Sophia’s childhood unbearably tragic. As she entered adolescence, she threw herself into the perilous pursuit of unrequited love and a life of glitz. In the following chapters, Sophia’s life repeatedly shifts restlessly between places and relationships. She herself describes it as if “she wandered through the world like a borrowed garment, and filled with the scent of someone else’s life.” But Sophia’s greatest strength is that she is not afraid to think or do the “wrong,” and yet she never backs down from her moral values.

As she stepped into her youth, Sophia dreamed of becoming a film director. But worries about earning money, paying rent, and saving for the future pushed her into alcohol, drugs, and fleeting men. And even when fate offers her the opportunity to study film, she squanders it, constantly feeling uncomfortable and failing to live up to her teacher’s expectations. The breakdown, which began in her teenage years, gradually deepened into chaos. But the author captures with painful clarity how Sophia’s mental, physical, and sexual health deteriorates into depression and becomes woven into the fabric of her lifestyle.

The most poignant part of the novel emerges when Sophia’s love affairs fade away, and her relationship with her mother and friend, Medha, comes to the fore. The author sensitively portrays the pain of a fractured mother-daughter relationship and the conflict and reconciliation hidden within her friendship with Medha, a lesbian girl. The daughter’s frustration, the mother’s helplessness, and the friend’s quiet love pierce the reader deeply. In fact, Medha becomes the gravitational center of Sophia’s life, the anchor through which Sophia realises that what she truly longs for is a “normal”. Later, midway through the novel, when Medha asks Sophia about her ideal life, she replies: “In an alternative life, I’m from thirty, with two children. We live in a clean, walkable city where time doesn’t run out… where nothing bad ever happens.” This statement highlights the tumultuous and stormy journey of Sophia as a young Muslim woman, caught in the crossfire of identity, ambition, and alienation in a world fractured by social and political divides.

The biggest drawback of ‘No Place to Call My Own’ is its cumbersome structure; some pages sag under the weight of dull prose. If you’re looking for a fast-paced, eventful, plot-driven book, this is not one for you. Furthermore, the author does not fully succeed in weaving the broader layers of social and political issues into the story. However, if you’re interested in understanding displacement, identity, the pain of being deprived of belonging, and the unspoken partnerships of queer feminist communities, then this book is perfect for you. It tells the story of young women who stand at a crossroads, who refuse to fit into neat moulds, who wander in search of a place for their identity, and who rise again and again despite every fall. The beauty of this novel is that while reading, you begin to feel an intimate bond with Sophia herself; you may even wish to sit beside her, hugging her, and whisper, “You are not alone. Someday, things will be okay.”

Despite a slow start, the novel shines in a realistic portrayal of women’s relationships, rendered in a style that swings between sharp wit and quiet introspection. It crafts a story that mourns the loneliness of the isolated while also celebrating their resilience. It does not attempt to “fix” its character or force a neat conclusion. Instead, it lingers in the discomfort, the unanswered questions, and the exhaustion of constantly being defined as both an artist and a woman.

Writer Umar Ahmed, describing No Place to Call My Own as fluid and fearless, writes that “This is an intimate journey of a young woman with multiple identities, religious, personal, and professional, all shaped by the turbulence of today’s India. The most compelling section is the friendship between Sophia and Medha, brimming with a passion and rage that only profound acceptance can soothe. It shows us that the only true home we can imagine is the one we find in each other’s hearts.”