Live to 100: There are certain conversations that rarely happen in everyday life.
Not because they are unimportant, but because they sit just beyond the edge of comfort. We sense them, we occasionally brush past them, but we rarely linger long enough to explore them.
One such conversation is about mortality.
For most of our lives, the idea remains distant — something that belongs to philosophy, or to “later.” We are busy building, raising, striving, solving. The horizon feels far away.
But somewhere in the later decades, the awareness becomes more personal. Not dramatic, not overwhelming — just quietly present.
Perhaps it is triggered by the passing of someone we knew. Perhaps by a health scare. Perhaps by simply noticing that time has moved faster than expected.
In our culture, there is a phrase — smashan vairagya — the temporary detachment one feels after attending a funeral. For a brief moment, life appears in sharp clarity. Petty worries recede. We resolve to live differently.
And then, slowly, routine returns.
But what if the invitation is not to feel this awareness only in moments of loss, but to integrate it gently into how we live — not as heaviness, but as perspective?
The Bhagavad Gita reminds us that change is woven into the fabric of existence, that what comes will also pass, and that clinging too tightly often creates suffering. In a similar spirit, traditions like Vipassana — drawing from Buddhist insights — invite us to observe impermanence not only in life’s big events but in everyday experience: sensations arise and fade, emotions come and go, circumstances shift.
“This too shall pass” is not merely a comforting phrase. It is a quiet truth that softens both joy and difficulty, reminding us to hold life lightly.
Seen this way, awareness of mortality need not create fear. It can create clarity.
When we recognise that time is finite — however long it may be — priorities naturally reorder themselves. Small irritations lose their grip. Conversations become more sincere. Gratitude deepens for ordinary moments: a shared meal, a familiar voice, a quiet morning walk.
I’ve noticed that people who make peace with this awareness often live with a certain lightness. They are less hurried, yet more present. Less anxious about outcomes, yet more attentive to experience.
There is also a subtle freedom in acknowledging limits. When we stop assuming infinite time, we begin choosing more consciously — what to pursue, what to release, whom to spend time with.
Of course, this is not about dwelling on endings. It is about enriching the present.
Perhaps the real question is not “How long will I live?” but “How fully am I living now?”
If longevity gives us more years, it also gives us an opportunity — to live with open eyes, aware of life’s impermanence, yet deeply appreciative of its presence.
Because when we make peace with the fact that life is finite, something unexpected happens.
We stop postponing living.
In the debut edition of Live to 100, we explored the crucial shifts every 50-plus individual needs for greater peace of mind. In the second part of the series, we turned our focus to ‘inner fitness’, and how it could be a game changer. In the third edition, we found how the ‘quiet middle’ can unravel a new, more intentional chapter of life.
In the fourth installment, we decoded why money after 50 is no longer about accumulation but peace. The fifth edition talked about quiet loneliness that emerges around 50, while sixth was about dealing with money anxiety after 60. The seventh piece in the series talks about time management being a trap after 50, while eight one explains the golden rule for retirement. The ninth article of the series focusses on why financial conversation between couples needs a reboot after 50. The tenth piece is about quiet identity shift after 50.
Sanjay Mehta is a digital entrepreneur, investor, board advisor, and public speaker. He is the founder of Ananta Quest and co-founded Social Wavelength, which became one of India’s leading social media agencies and was later acquired by WPP to become Mirum India.