Redefining India's second innings!

In India, turning 60 is often celebrated with grandeur, and why not, as it rings in the next phase of one's life - the so-called second innings with privileges of travelling at reduced fares, special reserved seats and the 'senior citizen' badge. Life slows down a bit - morning walks, laughter clubs, temple visits, some well-earned rest and ofcourse the joy (and duty) of spending time with the grandkids. 

Nothing wrong in that, in fact it's a beautiful phase! But somewhere along the way, we Indians have made it as an unspoken rule - After a certain age, one is expected to slow down and take it easy!

Now look elsewhere, in the developed countries (and maybe other not so developed ones too).... You will find 60- and 70-year olds are still working & travelling.. even running ultramarathons, doing cross-country cycling or climbing up mountain peaks! For them, age isn't a signal to slow down but just a number on the calendar. 

Over time, the divergence reflects in something deeper - the health of the seniors in any country. The contrast between India and its developed peer nations isn't just economic - it's physical, psychological and social !

And that contrast gets you thinking 🤔 

Our parents' generation had a very different journey. In the India of 1970s and 1980s, the opportunities were limited, income levels were modest and aspirations were largely centred around stability. Many would have left their hometowns in their 20s to larger cities, looking for jobs, struggled through their 30s and 40s going through managing their life responsibilities - building a career from scratch, raising families, buying a home, funding our education etc. Signing up for a marathon or planning an international holiday would not have featured in their their Top 100 goals !! 

We, on the other hand, have had a different runway. India's economic transformation meant better opportunities, higher income, global exposure and access to better healthcare and education. means more awareness to health and fitness. Aspirations are broader and this also means we now have a choice. 

Maybe our "second innings" would not have to be the same as that of our parents.... Maybe it can be more active, more adventurous and more intentional. 

So here's a thought that's been playing in my mind - personally I don't want to celebrate my superannuation at 58/60.. instead I would want to run an ultramarathon on my 70th birthday.

Sounds ambitious? Probably yes.... Unrealistic? Maybe not, if the next 20-25 years are spent in the right way. 

The way we work, eat, recover and prioritise our health today...that's what defines how our Tommorow will look like. In addition to the Mutual Fund SIP to build a retirement corpus, it's time that we do one hour daily of Health SIP too. 

Our parents gave us a better starting point, the least we can do is to take it further ! The real goal should not be to just live longer, but rather to live better at every stage - sixty and beyond ! 

Cheers

Sunil

Why We Leave, Why We Return

Returning to Mumbai after a short weekend trip to Kerala for a cousin’s wedding, I found myself thinking less about the ceremony itself and more about the congregation it created.

The cousin and his family are based in Bengaluru. His now‑wife and her family are from Delhi. Close relatives flew in from Canada, Singapore, the UK, and the Middle East. Yet the destination for this global gathering of desis was Kerala — for one simple reason: All 250+ of us had our roots in this state.

A state people leave, but never quite leave behind

Our great‑grandparents and grandparents worked relentlessly so our parents could study and aspire to something more. By the 1970s, that “something more” increasingly lay outside Kerala. Opportunities pulled some to the crowded streets of Mumbai, others to oil rigs in the Middle East, and many to the UK and its former colonies.

Some left out of compulsion, others out of ambition. But the heart never really left.

Kerala has a peculiar, almost magnetic pull. Weddings become excuses to return. Festivals turn into annual pilgrimages. Every April, thousands of Malayalees travel from across the world to Thrissur for the Pooram — elephants, fireworks, and collective nostalgia rolled into one. Between November and January, devotees undertake a 41‑day penance to visit Sabarimala. Wedding seasons stretch from October to February, then reappear in April–May. The monsoon brings a 10 day celebration in the form of Onam - the harvest festival.  

The calendar itself seems designed to call people back.

Coming back, not to build — but to belong

When first‑generation Malayalee expatriates visit Kerala, there is often a sense of awe.

They marvel at state welfare schemes, the accessibility of healthcare and education, and the much‑discussed human development indicators — outcomes that the early proponents of socialist ideals could only have dreamed of. Slowly, a desire takes root: Maybe we should come back.

My parents and my in‑laws did exactly that. After more than four decades in Mumbai, they returned to Kerala 10 years ago to settle into a different rhythm of life. I know many other couples in their 50s and beyond who have done the same — reclaiming a sense of home after decades away.

For them, Kerala offers predictability, familiarity, and a sense of dignity. It is no longer about chasing opportunity; it is about continuity.

Why the next generation hesitates...

But the same cannot be said for the next generation — myself included.

Born and brought up outside Kerala, a permanent move feels unimaginable. City‑bred professionals from Mumbai, Bengaluru, or Delhi worry about the slower pace. Overseas NRIs dread the loss of momentum and opportunities.

This generation never truly left Kerala. We left an idea of it.

Urban and global ecosystems reward speed, scale, reinvention, and a certain anonymity. Kerala, for all its strengths, often feels like a place optimized for closure rather than opening — a wonderful destination to return to, but a difficult one to grow within during one’s most professional years.

Does this have to be this way or could it change? Probably yes and why should it not? Blessed with a beautiful coastline, fresher air (than most metro cities), literate population and most importantly, our older-folks who have returned back!! 

But (& this is a big But) such a change would require an entire ecosystem stacking. Kerala has to be positioned as a hub, not a retreat! Presently, the word Kerala brings images of backwaters, beaches, forests, cultural festivals etc. A serious startup ecosystem & global remote-first companies need to be set up here, inviting the youth to start and grow their professions in the State. 

In the end, human beings follow a very predictable pattern. 

- Early life - they tend to follow possibilities and opportunities

- Mid life is about compounding and scaling up what they started

- Later life is about finding the meaning or purpose of life, and that's when people tend to return back to their roots.

In my mind, Kerala presently fits beautifully at the meaning end of this curve. It would take a mammoth effort on the part of the government, the entrepreneurs, the corporations to open up pockets for the earlier phases of life.

Till such time, weddings, festivals, and pilgrimages would continue to act as social gravity wells. They pull people back again and again, even if only temporarily. 

Cheers

Sunil

p.s. While this post is only written from a Kerala perspective, this is true in many other states and cities beyond the Tier 1-3 cities of the country.