A legacy of discipline

By Dr Khaqan Hassan Najeeb
September 06, 2025
The representational image shows a doctor injecting a vaccine to a patient. — Unsplash/File
The representational image shows a doctor injecting a vaccine to a patient. — Unsplash/File

When I reflect on my father, who lived with remarkable discipline in his lifestyle habits until the age of 94, I see more than just a long life well-lived.

I see a living testament to timeless, science-backed principles of healthy ageing, woven into every moment of his days. In many ways, he modelled the very essence of what leading longevity researchers today advocate – not with flashy interventions or breakthroughs, but through consistent, grounded habits. Even in his passing at 94, he left us with the gift of lessons that endure: a roadmap for living with strength, grace, and vitality.

My father wasn’t a marathon runner, nor did he chase high-intensity workouts or trendy fitness gadgets. Yet he moved with intention every single day. He believed walking should be purposeful – fast-paced enough to raise the heartbeat, as he would remind me often – and he made sure of it. Four mornings each week, he took his brisk walks and the evenings found him on the golf course, savouring the rhythm of activity intertwined with enjoyment.

Until he was 89, he maintained this routine, sometimes even golfing while fasting, demonstrating that consistency and moderation are the actual keys to longevity. At home, he complemented this with a 30-minute routine of exercises of all parts of the body – moving his arms, stretching his legs, practising static running – all done with precision and discipline, without fail.

As a cardiologist committed to staying updated with the latest research, he understood what many longevity experts now emphasise – that steady, moderate activity protects the heart, muscles and mind far better than sporadic exertion. Longevity experts emphasise precisely this – consistency over extremes – and my father lived that principle long before it became a scientific consensus.

He wasn’t on fad diets or calorie-counting apps. What defined his meals was moderation, variety, and nourishing choices. Lean meats, plenty of vegetables, a helping of legumes, yoghurt, modest portions – all staples at his table. Every day, he ate at least three fresh, seasonal fruits and drank plenty of water – never less than ten glasses – a simple act that nourished his body and soul.

His act of brushing away fried crumbs from his fish, eating only the healthy parts, might have seemed small to others, but to me, it spoke volumes: health wasn’t about deprivation, but about respecting the gifts of wholesome, nourishing food, day after day.

Science echoes his habits today; whole foods, plants, and low-processed components are proven protectors against chronic illness. My father didn’t follow these principles because they were fashionable; he understood them and faithfully applied them – a silent lesson well-heeded.

Regardless of his day’s ups and downs, my father prioritised sleep. Lights off by the same hour, quiet rituals before bed, and ample rest were constants. In the longevity research community, sleep often emerges as a crucial pillar – more than a mere luxury. It’s during sleep that our bodies restore, regulate and recalibrate. Without needing to experiment with gadgets or supplements, my father prioritised the timeless prescription of steady, sufficient sleep.

Here again, science supports what he practised: disrupted or insufficient sleep is strongly linked to cardiovascular disease, cognitive decline, and reduced lifespan. He respected sleep as an essential medicine, long before the data became mainstream.

In an era of constant distraction, my father lived with a deep sense of mindfulness and presence – a quality that current longevity research increasingly recognises as a key part of good health. He wasn't glued to screens or multitasking; he was fully focused on the moment. When he walked, he truly noticed the world around him – the rustle of leaves, the songs of birds, the feel of the breeze and often nudged my attention to them. When he ate, he savoured each bite without distraction, appreciating the flavours and textures as if they were gifts. He listened deeply when others spoke, giving them his full attention. These simple, intentional acts defined his connection to life and grounded him in the present.

Today, neuroscience confirms the value of this approach. Studies on practices such as mindful eating and meditation show a clear reduction in the stress hormone cortisol, which, when chronically elevated, accelerates cellular ageing and triggers inflammation. Being present during meals also improves digestion and enhances satiety signals, a simple yet powerful strategy for maintaining a healthy weight throughout a lifetime – a crucial element of longevity. He instinctively knew that a calm, focused mind was essential, and he lived a life that was both fully present and truly long. His quiet example reminds us that the most advanced wellness techniques are often the most ancient and straightforward.

He remained socially active well into his nineties – visiting friends, engaging in local gatherings, staying curious about current events. His wit stayed sharp because he kept his mind and heart engaged with others. He read voraciously, staying in touch with both medical research and broader world affairs.

Longevity experts today point to the power of social relationships and cognitive activity as safeguards against premature decline. My father, with both professional curiosity and personal warmth, lived this truth daily. He treated his brain and his friendships as vital muscles that required exercise. He authored two books in his 80s.

Life had its share of sorrows and pressures, but he maintained a calm composure. One of the ways he found balance was through his medical practice. Long after many would have retired, he continued seeing patients – especially those who could not afford to pay him. He treated them free of charge, not for recognition, but because service to others was part of his identity. That quiet generosity gave him both purpose and perspective.

Modern medical research indicates that chronic stress accelerates ageing by its effects on hormones, inflammation and cellular wear. But it also shows that resilience – through routines, social support, and a sense of meaning – can buffer those effects. For my father, healing others was not only his profession, but it was also his therapy and his compass.

What strikes me most clearly is that my father’s habits – steady, unglamorous, unfussy – map almost perfectly onto what modern science suggests truly matters. He didn’t seek to outsmart ageing with complex regimens. Instead, he leaned into the fundamentals: stay active, connect meaningfully and cultivate calm.

He lived to 94 – not by luck, but because of the daily choices he made, rooted in knowledge and love. Though he is no longer with us, his life is a tender reminder: when we nurture the basics – moving with purpose, eating wisely, sleeping well, and caring deeply – we add not just years to our life, but life to our years. That, I believe, is the true measure of longevity.


The writer is former adviser, Ministry of Finance. He tweets @KhaqanNajeeb and can be reached at: khaqanhnajeeb@gmail.com