How Anis Sajan’s discipline, yoga, style power his ageless energy at 55

Anis Sajan is slightly delayed for our noon interview and immaculately dressed when he arrives. We reach his office exactly on time and wait near his Anis Unfiltered podcast studio. The explanation is that he is getting ready. Anyone who has watched Sajan enter a room knows this is unlikely to mean a hurried change of shirt. When he joins us, he is wearing a white linen suit and matching white glasses, looking every bit the man routinely described as one of the UAE’s most stylish business leaders.

The next morning, his reputation as a stickler for punctuality becomes clear. Our Emirates Hills photoshoot is scheduled for 7am, and Sajan is ready by 6.45. The photography team arrives at 7.30, while I saunter in at 7.40. He notices, of course, though he does not labour the point.

This briskness is central to how Sajan sees himself at 55. The Vice Chairman of Danube Group has little interest in repeating that age is only a number. He prefers a more demanding test. “Whatever your age, whether you are 40, 50, 55 or 60, is your body able to cope with your daily routine?” he asks. “When I come to the office, I need to feel fresh. I need to feel energetic. I want to run like a young guy. My body cannot be slow and lethargic.”

The more revealing part arrives a moment later. “When you walk into your office, you need to feel good internally. That is more important than how you look from the outside.”

It is an interesting admission from a man who is known for his sense of style and carries off clothes in pink, lilac, orange, red and almost every shade of blue. He believes if you look good, you feel good and that gives you confidence to take on the world.

For more than 30 years, Sajan lived with migraines. Every other day seemed to bring another painkiller and another spell of temporary relief. He was not overweight in his thirties and forties, though old photographs show him looking tired, with poor posture and a slouch. “When I see those pictures, I can see how lethargic and dull I was,” he says. “Till the age of 35, I kept taking pills. They gave me temporary relief, and then I realised this had to be taken care of.”

His brother sent him to Jindal Naturecure Institute in Bengaluru. That first visit grew into an annual ten-day ritual and a philosophy of maintenance that Sajan explains through the objects people rarely forget to service. “If you do not service your car, it will break down. Your body also requires service and maintenance,” he says. “We all take holidays. I take ten extra days from my 365 days and give them to myself.”

An appointment with myself

At Jindal, his day begins at 5am with cleansing practices, meditation and ten minutes of laughter. Then comes an hour of outdoor yoga, his favourite part. “It changes my whole mindset,” he says. “Yoga asanas keeps you in shape, and the pranayama or breathing gives enough oxygen to the lungs- keeping your lungs healthy.”

Juice, sprouts and papaya are followed by a walk, massage, lunch and a power nap. Dinner is at 6.30pm and sleep comes by 10. “It is my me time. I am switched off from the world,” he says. “Of course, I can use my phone there. I try to avoid it as much as possible.”

Back in Dubai, summer moves yoga indoors. Yoga and pranayama remain. He retains 50 to 60 per cent of the institute’s habits: drinking 3 litres of water, waking, yoga, swimming, then fruit, sprouts and juice for breakfast. But his mantra is very clear, that your first meal should be with an empty bowel. That will only be possible if you have a light and early dinner.

His yoga mat travels with him. Abroad, he chooses fruit and fish and avoids heavy meals at night. He tries to eat by 8.30pm and knows his migraine triggers. Strong air conditioning prompts him to reach for a hoodie; chocolate, cheese and foods containing MSG require care.

There is still pav bhaji, pani puri and biryani when temptation wins. Ice cream is the enduring weakness. Naturals and Baskin-Robbins are favourites. “My boys say I could start a Naturals franchise,” he says, laughing. “That is the only sweet I love.”

Sajan applies the same structure to work. He chooses eight to ten productive hours and writes down what the next day requires. On the drive to the office, the radio stays off while he meditates. His sons know that sharing their father’s car may require absolute silence.

“It is easy for me to be on my mobile and watch Instagram Reels,” he says. “I avoid that. Ten minutes of meditation gives me energy and make my mind sharp. That is my time.” He will even reach an exhibition or business meeting later if that is what completing his morning routine demands.

The control has limits, and he is refreshingly willing to name them. He needs six to seven hours of sleep and a half-hour power nap in the afternoon. Business pressures can leave his mind too active to rest. The recession, Covid and difficult periods at work have affected him more mentally and emotionally than physically. “Physically, I may look fit. If I am not mentally and emotionally fit, I cannot give 100 per cent to my work, my family or the people around me,” he says. “There are days when I cannot shut off. I struggle the next day, and my family and team know it.”

Netflix sometimes defeats the bedtime rule. Mirzapur or a Pakistani drama can create a “cheat night” that ruins the next morning’s yoga. His therapist has suggested a diary. Sajan prefers the version in his head. “All my secrets are there,” he says.

Sajan’s thick, healthy hair is impossible to ignore and, I admit, deeply enviable. I tease him that I am jealous and ask whether it takes effort or is simply the gift of good genes. He smiles. “I am blessed, and people ask me about it often,” he says. “Genetics plays a role. I also feel my diet, fitness routine and regular detoxes help.”

The people at his table

Cricket once carried much of his fitness. Known as Mr Cricket UAE, Sajan founded a media cricket team and played regularly before accepting that the game was taking too much time from work. He now plays occasionally with friends or his sons and sometimes chooses padel. “If you do not want to do yoga, cycle,” he advises. “Swim, go to the gym or play a sport. Do some exercise and keep your body fit.”

Family is another reason he is so conscious about staying healthy. “If I am healthy, I can take care of them,” he says. “When the head of the family is not well, it affects everyone around them."

At home, health is folded into family life. He and his wife took their sons, Azhar and Sahil, to Jindal for about five years. The boys resisted at first. Both have since become physically and mentally stronger, and Sajan thinks they now surpass him in some ways. His wife also practises yoga.

Dinner together is mandatory whenever schedules permit. Phones are kept aside, unless a cricket match earns special dispensation. The four of them talk and sometimes watch a comedy afterwards. “Quality time matters,” he says.

At 55, he admits that some of his instincts are a little old-school. He remains strict about late nights and protective of his family and staff. He is also learning that authority without adjustment creates distance. “Sometimes you need to flip and understand what the children are trying to tell you,” he says. “If you are stubborn, there will be distance between you and your boys.”

Fashion offers a lighter negotiation between generations. His content team sometimes insists on a cover look, though Sajan considers himself his own stylist. Brand prestige interests him less than fit. He wears Raymond, shops in China and chooses whatever suits him. He owns around 15 pairs of glasses and selects each one to match what he is wearing. “At this age, if I start thinking, ‘What will this young boy say? What will my son say?’ it does not matter,” he says. “You see what makes you happy.”

His love of clothes takes the conversation back to his childhood. He recalls attending a neighbour’s Catholic wedding when he was eight, where the expected outfit was a black suit, white shirt and bow tie. He could not afford the outfit and had to borrow money from someone to have it made. Today, he has bags of suits and blazers, wears what he buys and donates what he no longer needs.

He is far less sentimental about cars. Sajan owns a Rolls-Royce and advises other people against buying one for appearances. “I bought it to show off,” he says. “Then I realised I hardly used it. Do not buy a car for show. Invest in property which will appreciate. I made that mistake.”

This directness makes Anis Unfiltered feel less like a podcast title and more like an accurate description. He can move from topics such as indigestion to a Rolls-Royce, from mental strain to lilac suits, without polishing himself into a corporate parable. When I ask what remains on his wish list, his answer is brief and entirely sincere. “God has fulfilled all my wishes.”

By the end of the shoot, Sajan appears to have forgiven our late arrival that morning. He has changed clothes, faced the camera and discussed his health, family, weaknesses and the expensive car he regrets buying. At 55, his version of ageing well means having enough energy, humour and self-knowledge to show up fully for the life he has built, preferably before everybody else. He signed off by saying: “Zindagi badi honi chahiye, lambi nahi”(life should be great, not merely long).