While the rest of the world watched Salman Khan in action at Abu Dhabi, debated over the way his bodyguards cavalierly shoved aside Vicky Kaushal, and called Khan “the best son ever” when he swaggered into the audience during an IIFA performance to kiss mom Salma on her forehead, guess who stayed at home?

Dad Salim Khan cheerfully waved everybody away to go enjoy themselves while he had his own leisurely routine in Mumbai. He who loathed flying even in his prime, barely steps out for his daily beat of morning walks along Bandstand outside his Galaxy building and occasional evenings at Otters Club for a drink. The maximum Salim travels is to his farm in Lonavla, the frequency lessening with time.

The family, too, just lets him be. Especially after what Salim himself describes as his trip “to hell and back”. Around the time he turned 87 in November last year, Salim’s health had become a cause for much worry as he floated in and out of hospital, veering between normalcy and alarming memory loss. He recalls, “I would sit here in my apartment and say, come, let’s go home, unaware that I was sitting in my own house.” He would sit in his spacious and tastefully minimalistic home and wonder whose beautiful apartment he was visiting.

But with the dawn of the New Year, he was like a new man. Placing some belief in astrology, Salim accepted the health scare as a phase he knew he would have to face, confident that he would snap out of it. When he resumed his routine, the warmth with which his non-film morning walk friends greeted him was overwhelming.

Back to his jovial self, age-related incidents amuse him vastly. When film producer Gaffar Nadiadwala passed away after a cardiac arrest last year, Salim got a call from someone who said, “Gaffarbhai ka intakal ho gaya.” Pause. “Aap hee ke umr ke thhe, Gaffarbhai was the same age as you.” Salim chuckles, “I told the person who called, thank you for informing me that Gaffarbhai has passed away. But was it necessary to add that last line?” However, the caller was slightly off the mark. Gaffarbhai was 91 when he passed on, Salim turns 88 this November. But he finds increasing incidents where his age is woven into the conversation hugely humorous.

It’s a blessed life with landmarks worthy of celebration. Next year, wife Salma and he will celebrate their diamond wedding anniversary, 60 years of ups, downs and togetherness. “Add five to that,” says Salim, “we met in 1959 and wed in 1964.” Abdul Rashid Salim Salman Khan was born the next year in Indore, his father’s city of origin.

How Salim, the strikingly handsome 24-year-old from Madhya Pradesh who had just stepped into Bombay, wooed and wed Mahim girl Susheela Charak is a story Salman should film someday. There was nothing muscular about him, he didn’t sport a bodybuilder’s physique, but Salim had such a unique youthful energy in him that one of his famous feats was to lift a jeep from its rear end with his bare hands. People would gather around to watch this unlikely young man do his jeep act. He was also famous in the Mahim area for beating the strongest of men at arm-wrestling, his panja skills legendary. Watching on was Susheela, who wed him five years later and became Salma. As Salim always says, “It was only a change in name. She’s still doing her pujas and reciting the Hanuman Chalisa.”

Salim was already a super senior when, one evening, a muscular younger man who’d heard of his arm-wrestling prowess went to his table at Otters Club quite disbelievingly. Salim was ready for his friendly challenge. The bulky opponent made allowances for Salim’s age and went at it lightly but was taken aback at the ease with which he was beaten. Unconvinced, he asked for another round, a little stronger this time. Once again, Salim bent his opponent’s elbow within seconds and went back to his drink. Onlookers burst into applause like the crowds did when Salma watched Salim.

If you see Salman’s swag today, you know where that comes from.

Bharathi S. Pradhan is a senior journalist and author