Surendra Pradhan, the maître d’ at ITC Maurya’s Dum Pukht in Delhi, doesn’t blink when I say, “Table for one.” I had made the reservation a day earlier. He nods, unbothered, and leads me past glittering chandeliers and murmuring tables to a quiet alcove. No apologies. No raised brows.
The solo prix fixe menu — precise in design, meticulous in portion — arrives with the same deference reserved for anniversary couples or visiting dignitaries. There are kebabs that melt on the tongue, a fragrant biryani sealed with dough, and kheer that whispers indulgence without tipping into excess. The service is attentive yet unobtrusive. Courses arrive with a cadence that never feels rushed.
For an hour, I dine alone — but not in isolation. The room hums with the low music of silverware and conversation. I am part of the scene. I am not an exception. Not an afterthought. This is solo dining at its most dignified. And it is no longer rare.
“We see solo reservations quite often,” says Pradhan. “Many guests are business travellers seeking a moment of indulgence. Among international guests, dining alone is normal. Indian diners are catching on.”
There’s a subtle recalibration in how solitude is performed and perceived in public. “It used to feel awkward,” says Aligarh-based Yashi Mathur, a 28-year-old software engineer. “I thought people were watching me. Then I realised that nobody was. And now? I love it. It’s the one time in the week I don’t have to perform.”
Much of this normalisation can be credited to social media. Reels of Instagrammers savouring ramen in Tokyo or sipping filter coffee in Pondicherry have made solo dining aspirational and even cinematic. “Solitude can be unexpectedly companionable. I’ve dined solo multiple times while travelling. Be it on a cruise ship where the meal was served against the stunning backdrop of the ocean or at a quiet hotel where the staff made me feel like family,” says Milan Singhal, a travel and lifestyle influencer.
Mayank Bhatt, founder of All In Hospitality, who has hosted several solo creators at Mumbai’s HyLo and Dimsum Room, points out that mid-week afternoons and early evenings see an uptick in solo guests, from working professionals to travellers who drop by for a drink, coffee, or a quiet moment.
Food blogger Karan Marwah points out that the infrastructure in India lags. “Most Indian restaurants aren’t built for solo diners,” he says. “Big tables, few single booths, little community seating. The assumption is, “If you’re dining out, you’re dining together.” He compares the scene to countries like Japan, where solo dining is institutionalised and restaurants have booths, placards, and bells with zero interaction— a novel concept in the Indian context.
Karan also admits that he used to dine solo more often before marriage. “Sometimes you just crave something your friends don’t. You go alone. Larger restaurants can feel awkward for solo diners, but coffee shops provide a more comfortable atmosphere. “That’s where solo dining feels natural now.”
Arpan, the head attendant at Blue Tokai in Delhi’s Khan Market, observes that solo runners and cyclists visit the cafe early in the morning, school kids drop by before classes, and professionals occupy tables for hours in the afternoon, making solo dining feel seamless.
Of late, coffee shops are popular destinations for solo diners, and this trend is expanding beyond big cities to Tier 2 cities as well. “I’ve just started dining solo in Chandigarh,” says 30-year-old Adrita Nagvanshi, an entrepreneur. “As a woman, restaurants still make me feel like I have to prove I belong there alone. However, at a coffee shop, I don’t feel alone. I see others like me. If you want to try solo dining, especially as a woman, start with cafés.”
Nishant Kumar Sinha, co-founder of Roastery Coffee House (which has multiple outlets in Kolkata, Lucknow, Jaipur, Hyderabad, Delhi and Noida), confirms a rise in this trend. “Across all our locations, solo diners form the majority of our regulars. They visit daily. Some have become like extended family, celebrating festivals with us, feeling more like insiders than guests.”
Post-pandemic, solitude has gained quiet prestige. In a world recalibrated by lockdowns, professionals now carve intentional pockets of solitude. Earbuds in, screens aglow, conversation optional. Solitude isn’t just accepted. It’s aspirational.
However, Nishant believes that solo diners in India are different from diners in other countries. “In Europe or Japan, people rarely cook at home, and solo dining is embedded in the lifestyle. Here, it’s an extension of remote work or ‘me-time’. Our cities lack the infrastructure, and we don’t have high streets or outdoor-facing counters. The street-facing bar stool just doesn’t translate the same way here.”
India is experiencing a gradual yet consistent shift. From fine dining rooms in Delhi to bustling QSRs in Bhubaneswar, solo diners are increasingly visible and viable. “At Terrāi, where our menus centre on hyperlocal Telangana produce, solo diners often have the most immersive experiences,” says Rohit Kasuganti, founder and CEO of TSK Food Works. “They arrive curious and present, exactly how we want our food to be received.” There’s a business case, too. “Solo diners turn tables faster,” Rohit adds. “That means more covers per service, especially during high-demand hours. And they often spend more per head, ordering based on personal craving rather than consensus.”
Unlike groups, where dishes are shared and costs weighed, solo diners eat for themselves. The rhythm is self-paced, the indulgence intentional. “Solo diners tend to move through their meals consistently, which helps maintain a steady service flow,” says Ish Patil, founder of Donmai, Mumbai.
This cultural shift is beginning to reshape restaurant architecture. Floor plans are evolving, adding intimate corners, single-counter seating, and communal tables that offer inclusion without intrusion. “We’ve created a thoughtfully designed section for solo guests,” says Rohit. “It’s integrated into the larger dining space in a way that doesn’t isolate, yet offers comfort and ambience.” Menus, too, are evolving. Previously designed for groups, tasting menus now cater to single diners. At Dum Pukht, the solo prix fixe is a complete experience that includes starters to dessert for ₹2,950.
Technology is smoothing the way. Whether digital menus or contactless payment, the goal is to reduce friction while preserving warmth. “Digital tools let guests move at their pace and stay immersed in their own world. That autonomy is often exactly what solo diners seek,” says Ish.
Quick Service Restaurants are reshaping, too. “Our outlets are based in high-density spaces such as malls, office parks, and transit hubs. That aligns naturally with the solo diner’s needs: speed, value and convenience,” says Rahul Sehgal, Business Head at Bird Foods (Delhi). Their strategy? Minimalist counters and streamlined service during peak solo hours like lunch and early evenings.
“In places like Malviya Nagar, where real estate is tight, we introduced bar-style counters, standing communal tables, and Mumbai wall nooks,” says Nishit Dalal, CEO of Bombay Boy. “Our table footprints are small — two-tops that can flex easily. It keeps the experience intimate without sacrificing scale.”
This principle applies to corporate diners too. “We serve small plates designed to be explored and no pressure to share. It suits someone between meetings or just seeking a moment for themselves,” Ish explains.
Still, the solo diner remains a paradox for the industry. “Yes, they’re frequent, especially in cafés, but they’re often working. The café becomes their office. Their top requests? A power outlet and fast Wi-Fi,” Kavitha Mantha, Secretary of the NRAI National Committee and founder of Sage Farm Café in Hyderabad, points out. “They may linger longer but don’t always spend proportionally. It’s more about remote work than romantic solitude. Still, they’re a reliable revenue stream during off-peak hours,” she adds.
As urban India grows more individualistic, fuelled by remote work, delayed marriages, and shifting lifestyle values, restaurants that embrace the solo economy with sincerity may future-proof their businesses.
Ultimately, solitude is not a demographic but a state of mind. In the gentle hum of a solo-friendly café on a quiet afternoon, you can sense it—in the soft clink of a spoon, the brief pause between bites, and the quiet contentment of someone dining alone, fully present in their own company.
In the end, solitude isn’t a market segment; it’s a mood. And if you listen closely in any solo-friendly café on a Tuesday afternoon, you’ll hear it humming softly — in the clink of a spoon, the pause between bites, and the quiet satisfaction of a diner who chose to show up, just for themselves.
