At 95, most people are expected to slow down. But Dr Bankey Lal Sharma? He’s still doing full sprints — in spirit, in soul, and, astonishingly, in routine.

On the morning of our interview, he rises with the sun, greets the day with pranayama, scrubs his own clothes, irons his own kurta (crisp enough to make a drill sergeant jealous), enjoys a hearty breakfast, washes his dishes, and calmly settles on his living room sofa in Gujarat. So when the phone rings at 9 am, he doesn’t just answer it — he celebrates it.

His voice bursts with energy. “Hello!”
“Kaise ho aap, sir?” I ask.
“Pehle aap batao kaise ho!” he fires back — cheeky, warm, and in full control of the conversation from second 40.

And just like that, I’m captivated.

The Man Who Needs No Introduction, But Deserves One Anyway

Dr Sharma isn’t just a man with stories — he’s a walking anthology. A retired professor of philosophy from Kurukshetra University, he’s lived through the partition, heard Nehru speak live from the Red Fort, visited Birla House after Gandhi’s assassination, and seen India grow up around him. His life has been stitched together with threads of education, loss, resilience, self-reflection, and joy. And even at 95, he insists on doing everything by himself. No shortcuts. No complaints.

Beneath the hearty laughter and quick wit, though, lies a quieter truth. “Jab meri naatin ne mujhse kaha ki nanaji, aaj aapka interview hai, main toh ghabra gaya,” he admits. (“When my granddaughter told me I had an interview today, I was nervous.”) But that honesty, that humility—it’s his superpower.

The Meditation Marvel

What’s his secret to a life so vibrant? I break all journalistic protocols and ask just one question: What’s the secret to your longevity?

He laughs, then answers with clarity: “Meditation. Never missed a day.”

Let that sink in.

While most of us abandon our New Year’s resolutions before Valentine’s Day, Dr Sharma has made meditation his daily companion for decades. “It’s not that hard,” he says, “Just sit and breathe.” But for those who’ve tried it, the mind’s chatter is no joke. The to-do lists. The doubts. The wandering thoughts.

His advice? “When your mind drifts, don’t scold it. Just observe. Practice swadhyaya—self-study. Ask where your thoughts are going and why. Be honest but gentle with yourself.”

It’s less about controlling your mind and more about getting to know it. His daily meditation, mixed with yoga and gardening, keeps him sharp and grounded. And he’s got a pranayama buddy too — his granddaughter-in-law, Monica Sehgal Sullere, his biggest cheerleader.

She says, “While everyone else is chasing goals, he’s just… there. At peace. It’s inspiring.” She recalls him telling her that this contentment didn’t come naturally — it was cultivated, like his garden.

Loneliness, Grief, and Choosing Joy Anyway

Behind Dr Sharma’s laughter is a heart that has known grief. When his wife passed away in 2019, loneliness crept in. The house grew quieter. The routines more solitary. But he didn’t let sadness swallow him.

“I realised I couldn’t keep holding on to grief. I had to make space for others, and for life.”

There’s no magic pill for loneliness, he says. But there is understanding: “You are your best company. The world cannot always entertain you. Loneliness, when embraced, helps you discover who you are.”

He talks like a man who has faced shadows — and found his own light.

Old-School Wisdom for a New-Age World

Sharma chuckles at the idea that the world was simpler in his time. “It wasn’t. We just chose to be happy.” He remembers walking 4 km daily to attend school in the neighboring village, learning under oil lamps, and eating wild sugarcane while playing in the fields.

Born in Bulandshahr, Uttar Pradesh, he was the rare boy in his village obsessed with books. He didn’t just want an education — he chased it. From “the boy who studies” (padhne wala ladka), he transformed into “the boy who teaches” (padhane wala ladka), eventually earning a doctorate and a revered teaching career in philosophy.

And yet, he never got caught up in status or self-importance. “I just made the most of every opportunity.”

No Superfoods, Just Super Thoughts

Now, if you’re waiting for Sharma’s secret diet (some magical smoothie or herb from the Himalayas), here’s the kicker: He eats everything. Roti-sabji, a good burger — it’s all welcome.

What matters more, he says, is feeding the mind.

“Surround yourself with wise people. Read their work. Learn from them. Not the ones the media calls saints — the real ones.” And yes, he owns a smartphone. But when he finds himself scrolling too much, he pauses and asks, “What would I be doing if not this?” Then he goes and does that.

So, What’s the Secret to Being Happy at 95?

Exercise every day. Meditate. Learn to enjoy your own company. Laugh often. Cultivate contentment. And—most importantly—practice the four golden rules that Sharma lives by:

1. Be happy in others’ happiness.
2. Be sad in their sadness.
3. Be amazed at their talents.
4. Ignore their faults.

I ask, “Is that the secret to happiness?”

He grins, “It’s the secret to being happy at 95.”