Sitting in the backseat of the car, head leaning against the window, I couldn't have felt more lost. As I tore my eyes away from the raindrops racing down the window, I glanced around at everyone in the car and couldn't help but think how distant I'd grown from all of them, especially these last few months. There was this gap between us now, something deeper than just generation. They were all open books to me, but I was a closed box, a mystery to them. In a weird way, I liked that.

At 65, I felt as if I was re-living my years as a troubled hormonal teen again. The mood swings weren't as bad, but I found myself being more impulsive and spontaneous than I'd been in many years now.

This spontaneity was the reason I found myself being driven down on a Sunday morning to the gym. My whole family had decided to drop me off, as if it were my first day of school. " Dadi's going to the gym?" they all whispered to each other in incredulity. They couldn't believe that the first place I wanted to go to after being discharged was the gym, quite frankly, neither could I. It was all a little overwhelming, scary even. After decades of putting my family ahead of me, I'd almost forgotten what it felt like to make decisions with your heart, probably the reason for my cardiac problems. When I told them of my intentions to sign up at the gym, the doctors and my son said no, but I wasn't looking for permission, I was merely informing them. You see, one of the (and perhaps only) beautiful, things about old age is that one way or another, you always get your way. "Maa, what is this sudden obsession with working out? At 65, you want abs?" my son asked non-plussed. Remember what I told you about not being understood?

"Don't send the car to pick me up, I'll make it back on my own" I said shutting the car door and quickly making my way in, leaving their jaws hanging. There is something almost liberating about being rebellious.

Climbing up the stairs, I saw huge posters of young men and women in their Nikes and Pumas brandishing their sculpted bodies. It was meant to inspire, but honestly, it made me anxious. I don't know if it was the toned bodies or the sport bras that once again reminded me that gyms weren't meant for the aged. I was past the point of having a mid- life crisis, so what exactly was I doing? I found no answer to that question, but in fairness, I didn't try too hard. By this age, I was just sort of going with the flow, letting the waves push along my boat, and ever so occasionally just steering with my oars.

After the gym staff got over their shock over my age, they worked out a routine for me and assigned me a trainer. The man, or rather boy who got stuck with me, would not have been more than twenty. His strong muscular demeanor was in complete contrast to his innocent, almost pre-pubescent face. His smile could make girls swoon, but he did nothing for me. Not my type.

If he had any hesitations about training me, he certainly hid it well.

"Hi Aunty, I'm Samir, looks like we'll be training together. I see you've signed up for the 3-month workout package. Before we start, do you have any special requests or requirements?"

"Yes, I have two in fact. One, I want you to push me to my limits every day, starting right from today. I don't know how long this madness in me will last so I need to make the most of it while it lasts. Second, I don't want any special treatment; you treat me just as you'd treat any another female customer of yours.

"Done, but only the condition you don't treat me like a kid. I'm not a kid or anything, I'm your trainer."

I was taken aback. And impressed.

"Okay, so let's start you off on the treadmill. It's great cardio and it's a good body exercise.

I jumped on to it with a little trepidation and a lot of anticipation. It was finally starting! "Let's start you off easy and as you build your stamina, I'll increase the levels."

There were so many buttons and screens on this small little dashboard. The minute it started, all of them burst into life, displaying different numbers and graphs. My heart rate, calories, speed, power were all available to me, and I chose to ignore them all. Instead, I chose to look out of the huge French windows in front of me, to the park opposite the street. I focused on the people in the park, rather the lack of them. Parks these days were filled with only senior citizens and toddlers. The two sections of society that still could afford the luxury of time. How long before parks become obsolete? This park might become a 'heritage' site in a few years, I chuckled to myself.

It was all moving too fast.

"Do you think you could slow it down a little?"

"Hmm?" he said he looking up from his phone. "Yeah, of course, is this better?" I nodded back, wiping away a bead from my brow.

"Tell me something Samir, does your neck hurt a lot?"

" Umm, not really, why?" he asked giving me a quizzical smile.

"No, because, I've been here about 20 minutes, and you've hardly looked up from your phone"

He smiled back awkwardly, stuffing his phone into his pocket, " Sorry Aunty, I was just texting this friend of mine, had a lot going on recently."

"Girlfriend?" I asked, suppressing my smile. What is it with Grandmas being inquisitive? I just couldn't help myself.

"Aah, yeah well, not anymore. We kinda broke up yesterday. That's why I've been so distracted. I was just texting her best friend about what I should do now."

" Did you do it or her?"

" Sorry?"

" Who broke up with whom?"

" Umm, Aunty I'd rather not talk about it. This whole thing is very personal, and no offense Aunty, but you're a stranger to me."

"Who knows, I could be of some help though. You're current strategy is to seek advice from her best friend, another teenage girl who thinks exactly like her. I've been married for 30 years, try me."

I was just as startled as him to hear these words from my mouth. What had got into me? Why did I care so much for his story?

" Okay, why the hell not. Desperate times, desperate measures huh?" he finally replied.

" Yes, that's the spirit. Okay, so again, who broke up with whom?"

" It was mutual. We both kind of made the decision"

"You can lie to me, but don't lie to yourself Samir. Who did it?"

" It was her, Alisha." he said softly

And then he just broke into a rant about how they met, how good things were, how perfect she was and how things started to spiral. Honestly, I think he was just happy that he had found someone who would listen to him.

....."So one day, out of the blue she just comes up to me and says that she doesn't see me in the same light anymore. That things have changed between us and she doesn't know if it will go back to before. I still remember the date she said that, 28th July. Aunty, you know something? There's this wrong perception about guys that they don't care. Sure, we hesitate to settle, but once we do, we're all in. We feel more, we care more, we depend more and when things go bad, we hurt more. Cause Aunty, we don't think logically when it comes to relationships. We are quite stupid that way. We do it all with our hearts. Always. No guy will ever admit this, but it's true.

How could she just say something like that? 18 months we'd been together. Obviously, things spiraled after that and the fights started. A LOT of fighting. And it ended with us going our separate ways. And now, here I am, talking about my problems to a woman I met just a half hour ago. Guess it shows how I'm doing huh."

" I told you I'd been married for 30 years. Did i tell you that I've been divorced for 15?"

He looked up, " Really?"

" Yes, really."

" I met my husband when I was in high-school. And the first time I heard him speak, I knew that this was the man I was going to marry. It wasn't a melodious voice, it was harmonious one. It's such a pity that a man witch such a beautiful voice was of the quiet types. He chose his words carefully and spoke only when needed, but when he did, oh boy! I'd go to a whole other world. We were more than acquaintances, lesser than friends, and certainly lesser than lovers. I knew that I had to be the one to make a move on this shy boy of mine. Many days went by as I brooded over a plan, until one fine day, I found a small note in my backpack..."

Hey,

I don't know if anyone's ever said this to you before, but you have a really nice voice. I'd like to hear (all about) it over some coffee, tomorrow night maybe?

-P

"Oh damn, that's what the letter said? That's insane! Go on, what happened next" Samir exclaimed fascinated.

" Well, obviously we went for dinner and it was exactly as I'd imagined it to be. We hardly even ate and I hardly ever stopped talking. There were some silences in the middle obviously, but they weren't awkward you know? We both shared the silence and it was nice. That's when I knew that we shared a connection. You know someone's special when you can share a silence with them"

" We started dating soon after that, and honestly, it was magical. It felt almost unreal. Our version of dating will vary greatly from yours, mind you. The society then still lagged by a few leaps. Each time we met, we had to keep our school textbooks to give the impression that we were just working together. We 'studied' quite a bit in those two years. Distance didn't come between us as we both moved away for college, the spark still burned.

None of our friends were surprised when we told them of our decision to get married. They were taken aback, when 30 years later, we told them of our decision to separate.

I don't remember the date, but I do remember that it was a sunny morning in January. I was seated at the kitchen table, as he made breakfast for us. He was recounting a story from his college days, as he fried the eggs in the pan. The sunlight from the window filled the room, giving his face a golden glow. He stood lost in the days of his past at the kitchen counter, his deep voice filling up the kitchen. And in that beautiful moment, seated there looking at his smiling face, I couldn't help but think that I just didn't love this man anymore." I said shakily, my voice trailing away.

"Aunty, are you okay?" I hadn't noticed, but tears had started to roll down my cheek as I looked ahead to the park.

"Yes yes, I'm okay, ignore the waterworks.

Falling out of love with someone is as natural as falling in. And just as illogical. I didn't understand this at the time. The only difference is that it's a lot quicker and lot more painful. We were meant to be together, so why was i feeling like this? I wasn't in love with Paul anymore. But, I still loved him deeply. And I knew that this would break his heart, as it had broken mine. I just couldn’t accept it. I tried hard to shake off this feeling, I really did, but I couldn't. That's because it wasn't just a feeling, it was a lot more. Feelings are ephemeral, emotions aren't. I had to accept the truth. Somewhere inside, it seemed as if a switch had just gone off, and I couldn't understand how or why.

I tried to make each meal we had as memorable as I could as I knew that these would be some of our last. I found myself clinging on to memories, like the time we were driving down to the hospital for Roy's delivery, and I kept calming Paul down between contractions. Or the time we sat through 3 hours of a school Annual Day, and didn't realize that our children didn't perform. Or the time we drove for 36 hours to make it to a football match, but slept through the game in the stadium. 'Two of a kind’ his friends used to call us. What happened to us? Too much of anything is never good, is that true even when it comes to people?"

"Wait, how can you just stop loving him? Love isn't a switch," Samir stopped me

"Trust me, I've been trying to answer that one for so long. I don't know, the things that used to drive me crazy once upon a time began to seem so quotidian. I found myself no longer fascinated by his stories, no longer found solace in his arms or warmth is his kiss. Honestly, it just wasn't fun anymore. And that broke my heart."

"So, just like that you ended it?" Samir asked, not yet full convinced.

"Well, basically yes, but not before he surprised me one last time. I remember that he was travelling for work, and I had the house all to myself. That morning, as I made my way to the washroom, I found a note pinned to the mirror,

Hey

I know I've told you this before, but you have a really nice voice. And an even better smile. Get dinner with me tomorrow and you could probably use both of them.

-P

The tears came, but they were happy tears. Just because the end was near, doesn't mean I couldn't enjoy it right?

I told him everything over dinner the next night, and you know what, he understood. This is why I loved him. Even at my most vague, he understood me. Our last month of marriage was like our first, weirdly blissful. We officially got divorced a month after, but we'd already separated on that sunny day in January."

I tore my eyes away from the park and turned to Samir, his were back on the ground.

"Samir, the heart wants what the heart wants, but remember this, the heart also knows what it doesn't want. I probably don't understand Alisha's decision for doing what she did, but I do sympathize with her.

"So, what do I do now?"

" Don't try and win her back. She wouldn't have taken such a decision in haste; she must have spent sleepless nights over it. Just because you don't understand a decision, doesn't mean it's wrong, does it?"

" I'll need some time to take it all in. Anyways, we're at the end of our session."

The hour had just flown by.

"Wait, did I really just do 7 kilometers?" I exclaimed looking at the monitor on the dashboard.

" You didn't notice but I increased the speed when you were talking. You wanted me to push you na?"

The smile didn't leave my face as I made my way out into the cold city night.

The first day of the six-month countdown had gone perfectly.