Raajeev Aggerwhil
By Raajeev Aggerwhil
As I mentioned in my last column, my wife and I started making dance videos and posting on Instagram and YouTube. Nothing wild — just two grown adults having a little fun, shaking a leg, and occasionally pulling a hamstring.
At first, we thought: “Hey, maybe 100 people will watch… maybe our relatives… or people who owe us money.” But then the videos blew up. Millions of views! We were like, “Wow! We’re viral!” Which is also how people in their 40s say they caught the flu.
A majority of the comments were encouraging. They were thoughtful, creative and complimentary with funny emoji signs. But a few of them were downright rude with nasty swear words. I was puzzled. I can understand hecklers at a comedy club who paid money and invested their time to be entertained. These viewers on the Internet are getting entertainment for free. And if they don’t like what they see, they can scroll on. Then I looked at the Instagram page of these trollers and they didn’t have any content or any followers. I concluded that it must be jealousy, seeing close to 50 videos and close to 20,000 followers on IG and over 100,000 subscribers on YouTube in a few months. Maybe this kind of lewd cyberbullying was a way for them to feel better about themselves.
I made a list of Hindi equivalents of the F bomb, along with their creative variations so Instagram will block them. These people are not very creative and with my IT background I can easily outsmart them.
The third kind of comments were all centered around ageism.
“Grandma, must have been a sweet doughnut when she was young.”
“Uncle, do some rest. Otherwise you will rest in peace.”
“How come this old man got this beautiful young woman?”
“One foot in grave and you are doing this kind of dance!”
“You should be chanting God’s name… why are you doing this kind of drama?”
“Go do bhajans! At this age, is this how you remember God?”
Let’s clear this up. Dancing is not a sin. It’s not even a midlife crisis. It’s midlife cardio! When Gen Z dances, it’s called a “trend.” When we dance, it’s called “tremendous nerve!” Someone commented, “This is not age appropriate!” My thoughts, “Neither is your grammar!”
In Indian culture, there’s this ancient framework for life stages: the first 25 years are for studying, the next 25 for raising a family, then from 50 to 75 you’re expected to become a forest-dweller—occasionally visiting your family. After 75, you enter Sanyasa: renounce everything and contemplate the divine. So apparently, after 50, we’re supposed to retire and chant mantras. But here’s the thing — ancient rishis didn’t have Instagram! Also, Vanaprastha was about leaving material attachments, not stopping your Zumba class!
This structure has become ingrained into our cultural psyche. If you’re over 50, you’re expected to fade into the background, like a piece of software that’s no longer supported. My wife and I respectfully disagree. We refuse to follow that script. We’re not forest-dwelling, we’re floor-dwelling, as in rolling on it during the 14th take of a dance reel. And what about Amitabh Bachchan? He’s 80 and still dancing! Let’s face it — if Big B can boogie, so can we!
If Shah Rukh Khan or Salman Khan can romance or boogie at age 60, why can’t I moonwalk across my living room? We’re not here to be exceptional. We’re here to be normal. To show that dancing, laughter, and love don’t expire after 40. To the folks who say, “Stop dancing,” we say: “Beta, stop watching.” To those who say, “Do bhajans,” we reply: “We do. Sometimes to a remix.”
You know what I think it is? People don’t hate our age. They hate that we’re not ashamed of it. They hate that we’re laughing, dancing, being affectionate… without filters or fear.
I have seen with many of my relatives and friends’ parents that many men, especially in the Indian community, don’t plan for their retirement. They stop working and hope by doing nothing, they will be happy. That approach doesn’t work. Without any hobbies and just sitting on recliners doing WhatsApp is a recipe for depression. To have a fulfilling life, you need passion. Whether it’s God, gardening, or dancing on a Tuesday afternoon — it’s about joy.
For those who say, “You should be chanting God’s name… why are you doing this kind of drama?” We posted a dance video. Not a video of us stealing mangoes in Haridwar. Also, remembering God’s name and dancing don’t have to be mutually exclusive. Sometimes I remember Krishna mid-spin, especially when my knees crack!
Let’s also talk about another recurring comment: “How did this old man get this beautiful woman?” The answer? I danced. She laughed. I never stopped dancing. It’s not aging that bothers people, it’s seeing someone age joyfully, unapologetically. They want you to act your age. But what does that mean? To sit still, become invisible, and only speak when spoken to?
This age-shaming isn’t about culture — it’s about control. People are uncomfortable when you don’t “act your age.” They say, “Grow up!” And I say, “Why? Growing up looks boring on you.”
My wife and I aren’t trying to be young. We’re just trying to be alive — and that’s apparently controversial. Funny, isn’t it? You get judged for sitting too much and judged again for shaking too much.
Here is my message to the Trolls and the supporters who say “Uncle and Aunty, stop dancing” — we say: “Beta, don’t troll on. Scroll on.” We didn’t post to impress you. We posted to inspire someone like us who thought their fun was over. But it’s not. We’re just getting started. Because age doesn’t stop you from dancing. Judgment does.
So yes, we’ll dance
We won’t forget God’s name.
We won’t forget each other.
If we forget a dance step,
We’ll still remember the laughter.
Our spirits are always dancing,
Even when our knees protest.
We may ache for two days,
But we’ll ache with joy — at best.
Raajeev Aggerwhil is a Los Angeles-based comedian. Follow his latest work on Instagram, YouTube and TikTik @Mr.CheapGupta. He can be reached at raajeev24@gmail.com.
