Estimated reading time: 4 minutes
“Is it too late for me?”
As a matchmaker and relationship coach to Indian men and women in their 20s through 70s-plus, I sometimes hear a quiet but persistent worry: “Is it too late for me?” Especially after divorce or widowhood, so many people internalize the idea that romance has an expiration date. Yet time and again, I’ve witnessed the opposite—love IS attainable at any stage of life.
That drew me to connect with author Monica Saigal regarding her novel, A Kiss in Kashmir. Her book has sparked conversations across generations—about love later in life, the myths we grow up with, the role of family in our choices, and the courage it takes to believe in joy again.
JA: What inspired you to write A Kiss in Kashmir?
MS: I grew up on Bollywood, and I still love it—but it planted this belief in me as a child that there’s only one soulmate. That if you lose that one person, your story is over. When I went through my own divorce after 23 years of marriage, at almost fifty, I heard that same message echoed back to me: “It’s over for you now. Dedicate yourself to God. Focus only on your children.” As if I couldn’t be both a woman and a mother. That didn’t feel right to me. I wanted to write a story that breaks that myth—that love can arrive at any age, and we have the right to define what that looks like for ourselves.
JA: Why was a romance between older adults important to you?
MS: Because it’s real. Life doesn’t stop at forty or fifty. Yet so often, literature and pop culture act as if it does. When I was in the middle of my grief, I needed stories that showed me there’s always room for second chances—that being widowed or divorced doesn’t mean love is off the table. I wanted to give readers that mirror: to show that beauty, passion, and companionship can begin again.
JA: Did readers connect with that theme of second chances?
MS: Absolutely. At book clubs, so many people—especially older readers—told me how much they needed to hear this message. Some admitted they were in love again but felt guilty about it. Others shared that they were afraid their adult children wouldn’t support them. The biggest surprise? In so many cases, the children actually wanted their parents to be happy. They said, “Go for it.” That’s been both moving and healing for me, as the mother of two grown boys who themselves encouraged me to start dating again.
JA: What message do you hope readers carry away from A Kiss in Kashmir?
MS: That love is not a one-time lottery ticket. It doesn’t expire. The real lesson is that it should be our choice—whether we want to be single, married, partnered, or not. No one else gets to write the ending of our story. Life will throw us curveballs—mine certainly did—but we get to decide how to catch them.
JA: How has this journey reshaped your own view of relationships?
MS: I never imagined I’d be divorced. I never imagined I’d be starting over. But here I am. And instead of letting that break me, I turned grief into love—not just romantic love, but love for life itself. That’s the heart of A Kiss in Kashmir: that resilience, that hope, that spark that keeps us moving forward.
JA: What do you say to those who might feel guilty about wanting romance after a long marriage or widowhood?
MS: I’d say this: you don’t have to apologize for wanting love. I’ve met so many people who whispered to me that they were dating again, or secretly in love, but carried guilt as if happiness a second time was something shameful. That’s simply not true. Love is not a betrayal of the past. It’s a celebration of being alive. You can honor your history and still open yourself to new chapters.
JA: What advice would you give someone who thinks they’re “too old” for love?
MS: That love has no expiration date. It doesn’t end at forty or fifty, or after a divorce, or after widowhood. If you want romance, companionship, or even just the joy of possibility, you have every right to pursue it. Don’t let society’s timeline dictate your heart’s timeline. It’s never too late to feel alive again.
Monica’s words are a reminder that love is not bound by age, history, or circumstance. Whether we are in our thirties or our seventies, divorced, widowed, or never married, the desire for connection is deeply human—and the possibility for it never disappears. What I admire about A Kiss in Kashmir is how it normalizes what so many quietly hope for: that new beginnings can be just as profound as first ones.
As someone who helps people navigate these journeys every day, I can say this with conviction—your story isn’t finished until you decide it is.