India, Sept. 17 -- Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh (RSS) chief Mohan Bhagwat, who turned 75 a week ago, generated much discussion and speculation on the relevance of that particular age, especially when it comes to our Prime Minister (PM)'s incumbency in office at that age. Bhagwat and others have since clarified that he did not mean to suggest that he or anyone else should call it a day on reaching that age. So, astu, or "be it so". Yet I cannot but reflect on the thought there is something about being 75. Something. Not something good or something bad, just something. Let me stay with India and Indian examples. India's first deputy PM Sardar Vallabhbhai Patel died in 1950, at 75. Prime Minister Jawaharlal Nehru died in 1964 at 75. But before the reader says, "Ayyo, this is so grim" or "Hai hai, this is just too morbid", let me correct the mood. Back in 2007, PM Manmohan Singh overcame a brief moment of danger with flying colours, at precisely the age of 75. PM Singh had a mid-air brush with danger? Where, how? Well, the great good thing is that "finally nothing happened". That "nothing" happened like this: On November 11, 2007, Air India One flew the then PM safely and comfortably to Moscow; the PM was in Russia for an official visit that is now all but forgotten. Everyone de-planed to a great welcome in Moscow's chill, ahead of a bilateral meeting that saw PM Singh and Russian President Vladimir Putin hold crucial talks, reiterating the two countries' strong and unbreakable ties. The Indian PM was much feted and honoured with an honorary doctorate. Politics and news are about today's events, not about yesterday's good, bad, or dull events. So few outside those interested in Air India's archives would remember that Moscow airport's air traffic control told the Boeing 747's crew that, as the aircraft approached Moscow, its landing gear had not been lowered as it should have and that the plane had flown below the "electronic glide slope" before corrective action was taken. All is well that ends well. And all is great with a flight that ends great. And I for one would accept Air India's side of the story if it were to say that the so-called error did not take place. Be that as it may, Singh was 75 at that time. His host, Putin, was 55. Singh's successor in office, PM Narendra Modi, who has just been to Moscow and back after another successful bilateral visit, turns 75 today. May Singh's luck be Modi's at 75 and beyond! And may he reach and cross his predecessor's full span of years in great good health. But let us return to the thought that there is something about being 75. First things being taken as first, anyone at 75 in India today is already above the average expectancy of life which stands now at 72. And he/she has lived beyond the life-spans of not only Nehru and Patel, but also some of the great Indians of modern times (their respective ages at death given in brackets) such as Raja Ram Mohan Roy (61), Ramakrishna Paramahamsa (50), Vivekananda (39), Birsa Munda (24), Thillaiyadi Valliammai (16), Shaheed Bhagat Singh (23), Lokamanya Tilak (64), Gopal Krishna Gokhale (48), Sarojini Naidu (70), Maulana Azad (69), Srinivasa Ramanujan (32), Sri Ramana Maharshi (70), BR Ambedkar (65), Begum Akhtar (60), KL Saigal (42). This random and representative list does not, of course, include the heroic bravehearts of India's defence services who died in battle. And so, anyone who is 72-plus years of age and, therefore, is at the round age of 75, has done, in chronological terms, better than so many whose lives ended too soon. Should that make the 75-ers feel guilty? Let me say just this one thing from my own life: When I was about to turn 80, a friend asked me, "How does it feel to have crossed your grandfather's age?" I felt just crushed to less than pulp. So, I would say being 75 should make one feel fortunate and grateful, but with the accompanying thought that one could have done better - not for oneself but better than one has done for all life around oneself. Someone in public office in India, and being of that age, should ponder over Emperor Asoka's words in Edict VI: "I am never completely satisfied with my work of wakefulness or dispatch of business. I must work for the welfare of all people." Nothing can so befit a person in high office than an owning of deficiencies, mistakes and mis-steps. For an Indian with public responsibilities, crossing the average life expectancy at birth and reaching the diamond jubilee of 75 years, must lead to introspection, atma vichara, and to unadvertised acts of self-abnegation. No one can lead the person to such an act except one's conscience, one's antaratma which Mahatma Gandhi (whose life was cut short at 79) used as a compass, something which was transcribed by his secretary and thought-partner Mahadev Desai (who died at 50) as: "Khuda maney je aavaaj sambhlavi rahyo chhe." (the sound/voice that God is making me hear.')....