Frisky at Sixty?

It is probably not widespread enough to be called a trend, but one has noticed, in one’s immediate circle, the rising tendency of 60+ women to refer to themselves as ‘girls’. Along with this, there is a rise in all-women groups who travel together, go out for boisterous evenings, hold kitty parties with loud enthusiasm, and generally behave in a way unimaginable for an earlier generation.

 Historically, in India, girls became women far too quickly (while men stayed boys all their lives), and therefore the reclaiming of this label at an age where one probably has grandchildren who are girls is interesting. In earlier times too, all-women gatherings were not uncommon, with ‘ladies clubs’ (populated by many Mrs. So-and-Sos) being the staple form in which these took place. But there was an air of studied propriety about these, a determined effort to play the role of responsible, mature women. The kitty party signalled the loosening of this restraint, but it is only recently that even these have become more relaxed, with the odd group deciding that alcohol is a necessary ingredient for such get-togethers.

 Of course, this shift is not limited to women alone. It is no secret that the senior citizen today does not take their seniority too seriously. There is a stubborn refusal to fade gracefully away into the background and an airy dismissal of the idea that they take to pursuits suitable to their age (religion, tending to grandkids, joining laughter clubs, providing guidance on rituals).

 It is true that men have always had the cultural license to be boys and have always managed to find some outlets for this part of themselves. Whether it was making their workplace a boys club, where they could shed their donned personae, or in the nudge-nudge-wink-wink trip to Bangkok under the pretence of an offsite, they could, in addition to fulfilling their responsibilities as householders, express their more uninhibited sides. But once they retired, even they were expected to turn appropriately geriatric.

 The reasons for the changes we are seeing are many. This is the first generation that has a reasonable number of retirees with an economic surplus, and it shows in the way they imagine and live their lives. For many, their children are settled and self-sufficient, which means that financially, their responsibilities have been reduced.

 In an earlier time, retirement was an anxiety-inducing event. For those in service who derived so much of their sense of self from their designation, retiring was like a steep fall into ordinariness. For those in business, handing over the baton to the next generation created feelings of insecurity and irrelevance. One’s youth and middle age are noisy times, full of the cacophony of work and family responsibilities. Even holidays that are taken are desperate attempts to escape into a short-lived sanctuary, and even these were often tainted by the sound of the mobile phone ringing at inopportune times. Financially too, there was a dread of being dependent on one’s children, and the prospect of facing neglect at the hands of the next generation was all too real.

 And while these concerns continue for a large part of India, there is a section that has managed to free itself from the onerous responsibility towards others and is able to focus on themselves. There is a strong recognition that after 60, the overhang of mortality feels more palpable, and while medical science has prolonged lifespans, it offers no certainties about who wins the longevity lottery. In any case, the real need that is felt is not necessarily longevity, but rather a kind of agelessness. So, for many people, their 60s and 70s turn out to be the best periods of their lives.

 An enabling factor is the better levels of fitness that we see in the older generation today. There is much greater consciousness about health, exercise, and diet that allows older people to remain active until a much later age. It is not uncommon to see retirees take to physical activities with enthusiasm. There are friends who have started running marathons and going on treks after crossing 50.

 Which is why travel is the biggest pursuit of this cohort. The effort here is not just to visit distant places but to put distance between their previous lives and their new ones, to explore not just new lands but new sides of themselves. Bucket lists are made and ticked off, and depending on one’s pocket trips, both domestic and international are eagerly availed of.

 The biggest difference, however, comes from the mindset. Earlier, notions of age-appropriate behaviour were consonant with the inevitable decline of one’s physical and mental faculties with time. A lifespan was seen to have a rhythm, a rise and fall that was embraced rather than denied. As one aged, one’s looks became less important, and one’s concerns turned inward, first towards the family and then towards more spiritual activities. Ageing was a process by which we gradually extracted ourselves from our lives, fading into the collective label of the elderly, until we were ready to go.

 One could argue that there was wisdom in this and that it represented a more mature outlook towards death. The current obsession with longevity often succeeds in prolonging death rather than life, as we use medical science to keep ourselves alive without really having a life to live.

 The change that has happened is unlikely to be rolled back because almost all the reasons why we embraced the older mental model of ageing are being dismantled. Several youth-extending technologies have come to the aid of this group, Viagra not being the least of them. With the world revolving around the individual, it has become increasingly legitimate to focus on extracting every bit of pleasure and meaning from one’s life. Mortality, of course, lies waiting. But the sixty-somethings of today are not just alive; they are kicking.

(This is a version of an article that has appeared previously in the Times of India)