The gym buddy who noticed

Farooq and I met at the neighbourhood gym, the kind with a broken air conditioner and a poster of a bodybuilder from the nineties. We were both there at six in the morning, so we started spotting each other on the bench press.

For almost a year our conversations were about protein, cricket and whose knees were worse. He talked about his wife, his daughter's school, his mother's cooking. I talked about work, and very carefully about nothing else.

One morning, between sets, he said, "Yaar, a year and I don't know a single thing about your life outside this place. Do you have someone?"

I could have made up a girlfriend. I had done it before. Instead I said, "There's someone. His name is Aman. We've been together three years."

Farooq nodded, added a plate to the bar and said, "Three years? Then bring him to my daughter's birthday. She wants a big party and I need people who will eat the cake."

Aman came. He ate two slices. Farooq's daughter now calls us both "uncle-ji" and asks when we are getting a dog. Some people surprise you, if you give them the chance.