When do we actually become senior citizens?

Every Sunday, congregants gather at the church in Jebel Ali, often struggling to find a place to sit due to the packed auditorium. Reserved seats, specifically for senior citizens, remain vacant for significant portions of the service. Despite the numerous empty spots, someone typically takes one as the sermon progresses. The author and his wife usually avoid these seats, feeling it would be more considerate to allow the elderly or infirm to have them.

One day, they reluctantly took two of these seats when there was limited space, and an usher politely informed them that the seats were reserved for senior citizens. The usher asked how old they felt; the implication was clear. This encounter made the author smile, considering age not as a strict number but rather a state of being.

The author reflects on the changing perception of old age, noting that people often feel younger than their actual age, capable of working, traveling, and enjoying life. As one progresses in years, the definition of old age shifts, and the author questions when they were officially deemed a senior citizen. The author argues that age and aging are not synonymous; many seniors are actively engaged in various activities, staying busy and healthy.

Advances in technology have also blurred the lines between generations, with older individuals adept at using modern tools and platforms. The author suggests that "senior citizen" may not necessarily be an identity but rather a description of one's status in life. With this perspective, the author decides to accept the label and occasionally sit in the reserved seats, as if they have earned the privilege.