A charming but

sequence is devoted to showing what being a single woman means — it’s a life where lizards stare down from the ceiling, the dhobi/milkman always bajaaos the bell at the wrong time, and acquaintances feel entitled to use and insult them.

The film shows, in cute and compelling but, more importantly, slightly wistful detail how sad a single woman’s life is, how desperately incomplete she is, without so much as a peek into what a single man’s life may be like, or an aside about the joys and freedoms of being on your own.

So, Jaya’s life is neatly split between being a bechari to her friends and family members, and being a bitch to her office colleagues.

Tired of being punched in the face, repeatedly but figuratively, by friends who are unable to define or introduce her without mentioning the lack of a man in her life, she logs on to a dating site.

Enter Yogi, a chemical engineer who writes poetry, likes to run, is fond of mangoes and has all the time in the world to enjoy a slow walk, a long, desultory chat, and keeps himself entertained by laughing at his own lame jokes.

Jaya, a South Indian who sells insurance policies, dresses like a smart, 35-year-old independent, working woman. Yogi is oily looking and makes rather scary sartorial choices.

Jaya is Englishspeaking, sophisticated,