Privileged status

May 2, 2014 for some special reason evoked an extraordinary excitement amongst my relatives, friends and well-wishers. No sooner I woke up, I was greeted with a big grin by my younger daughter, “Appa, you are 60 years old,” as opposed to the usual ‘Happy Birthday’ or ‘Many happy returns of the day’ and so on. She had obviously no clue why ‘60’ was so important requiring special emphasis.

This was followed by a deluge of messages and greetings -- some of them sounding surprised that I had reached 60 (an achievement of sorts, possibly they thought); some sincerely believing that 60 was a milestone requiring special celebration; and some others sounded sombre (for what reason I am yet to fathom). This set me thinking - ‘Why is 60th birthday so important?’

Sixtieth birthday has different significance in different cultures. In the western world it is just a retirement age. In China, at the 60th birthday (termed Jiazi) men and women would have done five full cycles of the Chinese calendar; the planets are in the same place as when you were born. ‘Shastiabdipoorthi,’ as the Hindus term it, requires one at that age to back off from the mundane world and look towards spirituality. ‘Sixty’ sends a clear and loud message -- step back, you are old; make space. Why at 60? Why not at 61, 62, or 63... I don’t know.

Be that as it may, sixty carries with it a bundle of goodies. You get the honorific ‘senior citizen,’ carrying with it several privileges. Special lines at 'Q' booths; concessional entry fees to parks and museums all across the world; preferential treatment at railway and flight reservations; sudden shower of respect and regard at family functions with more numbers standing in line to seek your blessings as if at 60 your blessings are more potent than it was yesteryears.

At the end of it all, I tell you, enjoy being 60. It gives you status (whether you deserve it or not); recognition (which you were craving for all along); privileges and reservations (against which you were complaining and grumbling) and less frequent visits to the barber. Androgenic Alopecia (simply, baldness) which hitherto was an object of ridicule becomes on 60 a sign of respectability, wisdom and maturity.

And lo and behold! There was a surprise waiting for me at sixty. I spent my birthday weekend with my daughter at Chennai and planned to take a train back to Bangalore. I got a 40 per cent off on my train fare, as I had metamorphosed into a senior citizen. A good birthday gift!