From banker to law student at 58, age is no bar for Assam's Parthapratim Goswami

India has 140 million people over 60. Most retire quietly. Assam’s Parthapratim Goswami decided to become a law school freshman.

When 58-year-old Parthapratim walked through the passage of a Meghalaya university’s law school in August 2025, every student stood up. The former banker felt his heart skip a beat. The students had mistaken him for a visiting professor, maybe a guest lecturer. “Don’t worry, please sit down,” he told them with a nervous smile. “I am also a student like you. I am your classmate now.”

Goswami’s journey highlights a growing reality: India’s rapidly ageing population faces decades of post-retirement life with little purpose. Life expectancy has jumped to 70 years, but retirement age remains stuck at 60, leaving potentially 10 to 15 years of idle time.

That’s why his decision to turn life upside down at almost 60 stands out: while most bankers his age were planning golf memberships and retirement parties, Goswami packed his bags for a three-year law degree. “People shouldn’t think life ends at 60,” he argues. “Pension is given so that you enjoy your life.”

His story starts in the early ‘90s with love and desperation. Born and raised in Assam’s Guwahati, he had just finished his Agricultural Science degree in Maharashtra in 1989 and was set to pursue a Master’s degree. It was around this time that he met Abha, a woman from Madhya Pradesh who would become his wife.

“I am a Brahmin and she was non-Brahmin; same old inter-caste issue,” Goswami recalls. “There was a lot of pressure on her to marry somebody else. So I thought, I have to do something so that I could marry her.”

That something was cracking the banking exams, notoriously tough even today. He cleared both the written and interview and joined Federal Bank in Cochin as a Probationary Officer in early 1991, and married Abha in 1992. What followed was a 35-year banking career that took him across India: Nasik, Mumbai, Delhi, Dimapur, Tezpur, Jorhat, Ranchi, Shillong, to name a few, before eventually returning to Guwahati. He ended his banking career in 2024.

Through every transfer and every new posting, his wife was by his side. Together, they built a life around resilience, travel, and shared sacrifice. Tragedy struck in 2023 when he lost his wife, a loss that has since marked his personal journey as deeply as banking shaped his professional one.

Even as life tested him personally, Goswami stayed sharply observant in his professional world. His interest in law didn’t just appear out of nowhere. “I always had a liking for law, legalities, and various political issues,” he explains.

During his banking years, he also noticed a gap that troubled him: “I found that many advocates are not clear about banking laws, corporate laws, and patency laws. They have the basic knowledge, but they don’t know how to present.”

This gap represents a massive opportunity. India’s legal sector is a multi-thousand-crore industry, with some estimates placing total annual corporate legal expenditure and compliance costs near Rs 50,000 crores. However, the sector lacks enough professionals who understand both law and banking. Corporate litigation is booming, but expertise remains siloed. 

“With my banking experience, I might be able to make a mark in these areas if I practice. I believe an LLB is a course that will keep me engaged for the next 15 years if I start practising seriously.”

His classmates are just 21–22 years old, young enough to be his children. In fact, his own son, Digvijay, who began his career at Harvard Business School, is now a tech entrepreneur. His daughter, Shristi, a Chevening Scholar based in Mumbai, also urged him to study law after noticing his deep passion for it. Yet, when he finally announced that he had decided to take admission, neither of them could quite believe he was serious.

“Initially, my children thought I was just saying it—because sometimes I say something and end up not doing it,” he laughs.

The role reversal was complete when Shristi dropped her father at law school. Her Instagram post went viral—70,000 views. “I just dropped Papa off at college,” she wrote. “He asked, ‘What if I feel embarrassed?’ and then quickly added, ‘There’s no shame in learning.’“

The transition from commanding 1,500 employees to being a student requires serious mental rewiring. “Sometimes we carry egos, and it is easy to bring them into every space you enter: ‘I once had 1,500 people reporting to me.’ But now I’m just a student. I don’t bring that into my mind. I live in the present,” Goswami reflects.

Research shows that older students often outperform younger ones due to life experience and motivation. But they also face unique challenges: fear of technology, peer acceptance, and societal judgment.

Goswami’s study methods prove adaptation is possible: “What I do is take notes, even in my mobile. And I use AI tools to go into depth and detail. I’m confident I’ll be able to do it.”

He represents an untapped resource. India’s 60+ population is projected to hit 230 million by 2030. Many retire with decades of expertise and energy remaining.

“Learning never ends,” the former banker says. “We learn from everyone — from our children, from juniors at work. It’s not just top-down but also bottom-up. The world keeps changing, and learning never stops — in law or in any field.”

His plan makes financial sense. “Law is a matter of interpretation and presentation before the judge. With my experience, I think I can add value.”

Banking-law expertise commands premium fees. Corporate disputes involving financial regulations need specialists who understand both sectors. Goswami’s 35-year government and PSU banking experience positions him perfectly.

“Perhaps I will practice, or I’ll take an in-house role in some company, using my experience. Let’s see what life has in store for me,” he says.

Goswami’s choice challenges India’s retirement culture. While Western countries encourage lifelong learning and career pivots, India still views post-60 life as winding down.

His advice cuts through cultural expectations: “It’s all about your passion. Life starts after 60, there’s a saying. Whatever you could not do during your service period, start doing it.” The message extends beyond education: “It doesn’t have to be studying...it could be travelling, photography, anything that gives you joy.”

Living in Dispur with his 84-year-old mother, Parthapratim proves that family responsibilities and personal growth can coexist. His story went viral not just for novelty and human connection, but because it challenges assumptions about age, learning, and productivity, particularly in northeast India.

His daughter remembers how he taught her Political Science so well that she later tutored others. “Back then, I asked him why he hadn’t pursued Humanities, and he told me there wasn’t much awareness in his time. Science was the norm.”

Now he’s finally pursuing what he always loved: proving it’s never too late to follow your true interests. The key is perhaps refusing to accept that productive life ends with retirement.