What next?
This is the question that I am
confronted with, on a daily basis ever since I have received my retirement
order. Each and every person I meet or who has known me for some time, comes up
with this question as soon as they come to know that I am retiring.
In the beginning, my reply was
always, that I haven’t decided. To the very close ones I replied that, I am
working on it. When it all began, it was just a question, like any other. As
time pass by, the frequency seems to increase and the sincerity with which it
is asked is also evident. This matter has assumed serious proportions and needs
to be addressed with all the seriousness it deserves. Once this question is posed,
it is not uncommon for my well-wishers to offer their advice without waiting
for my answer. I am often advised to search for new jobs that fit my status and
standing, or those jobs which give me a high on my esteem front. They somehow
feel that I must continue to work. I have been instructed to widen the avenues of
my search, advertise my qualifications, re-write my credentials the way market
understands it and even activate the right link to get the right job.
All the well-meaning advice come
with a caution. I’m warned that sitting at home, doing nothing will kill me. They
tell me of people, who were seemingly hale and hearty having decided to take it
easy after retirement, died out of boredom. Though I try hard to hide my fears,
there are times I do get scared. I assure my well-wishers was so worried about
me that I have no plans to sit at home and wither away.
My wife, hearing all those scary
stories of how people disintegrated after retirement, is worried for me. She tells
me, that the active the person that I am, I will not be able to tolerate the
inactivity associated with retired life. She warns me of the boredom that sets
in after some time and how it can kill. She’s truly worried. She has been with
me in my life’s journey or the last 30 years. She has been with me in my good
times and bad times. I appreciate her concern but still want to pursue what my
heart tells me. My wife and our friends ask me, what next?
This question, has a sense of
uncertainty inherent to it and to some extent unsettles me. Spending some time
at home, reading and writing or just being lazy, is not inactivity. I’m sure
this cannot be the way that I will wither away. Having worked for more than 36
years. I feel I have earned a well-deserved rest and a peaceful walk to the
sunset pursuing those hobbies which I always wanted to. I want to spend some
time finally for myself.
Is it the first time that I’m
faced with this question? No. Right from the day of my birth “what next?“ has
been a constant companion in my life. There were times when I had no answers,
there were times when the answers, I chose were wrong and few instances the
choices were right.
What next? This would have been the question my grandma asked
herself seeing a seven-month-old premature baby, delivered at home with no
access to modern medicine. My very survival was in question. I had no control
of what was happening with me. My childhood was filled with stories of how
hard, grandma prayed and how she never gave up on me. I’ve come to believe that
I survived on my grandma’s prayers and the liquid diet that her frail old
little finger could manage to push inside my little mouth. I survived. It would be more truthful to say she managed
to make me survive. “What next?” might have been a question that troubled her.
To me it didn’t matter, at least as of now.
Many years later, as an
adolescent, having failed my father in achieving the grades that he wanted me
to, my own sense of esteem having bitten dust, with my life seemingly going
nowhere I asked myself “what next?”.
]With no sign of hope in the near
horizon, I came to the conclusion that life is not worth living. The question
that troubled me was “what next?”. That is when I toyed with the idea of
putting an end to my life. The walk to the railroad, the purposeless walk
between the tracks and the final wait at the track for the train still remains
the most excruciating pain I ever suffered. I sat and cried aware of the life
that I wasted, going through each of my dreams that had not been fulfilled and
the gruesome fate that was just moments away. This seemed to be the final
answer to the un-ending question “what next?“ . The train was unduly late that
day and I could not sit there for eternity. I had to walk off.
Another failure?
I asked myself “what next?”.
That is the day I took control of
my life. No I tried to take control of my life.
The next few years I experimented
with my body and soul. There were times when I was confronted with my worthlessness.
The path I often took led me nowhere. I was confronted with failure after
failure after failure. At the end of it I asked again, what next?
Events, people and surroundings
always have a say on the outcome of what one does. The extent to which external
forces can control one’s life depends upon how much control one gives to others.
Unwittingly, unknowingly one does give control of one’s life to others. The
choice of handling others’ lives in our hands do not come with much
responsibility. It’s up to us to decide how well or how shoddy we can handle
somebody else’s lives. It doesn’t matter actually. But the person who has
entrusted his or her life into our hands desires that we handle it with utmost
care. Often entrusting our lives to somebody ends in disaster. Living up to
others dreams and their aspirations to actually divest one from one’s own life
and the beauty associated with it. Driven by the norms of the society parents
end up robbing childhood of children. If one is sensitive even adolescence is
wasted living somebody’s dreams. Having secured selection in a number of
competitive examinations I found myself choosing what I had not thought of. The
choice was mine but reasons were not from the heart.
It’s been years now. I refuse to
let anybody else control my life. I am still learning to preserve my personal
space. The years that have passed by have gifted me with unparalleled
happiness, though there were challenges aplenty. The most beautiful lady on
earth became my wife. The two most beautiful girls in this world are my
daughters. The two most handsome men in this world are my sons-in-law, the most
adorable children on the earth are my grandchildren. I have nothing more to ask
for. I have got everything that I’ve dreamt of, got more than what I deserved and
more than what I bargained for. The last 30 years have been the most beautiful
years of the life. Yet, there were times when I sat down and asked “what next?”
Looking back, the questions that
I asked each significant turning point of my life seems irrelevant and
meaningless. My experience of the last 57 years, makes me believe that each
time I asked this question, it was irrelevant and stemmed from my insecurity.
Now I know that my job is to celebrate each day of my life. I consider each
tribulation as a lesson and step towards triumph. I also learned that the day I
took control of my life I started living. I have no regrets whatsoever for what
I have done and for that matter even for those that I have not done.
Tomorrow doesn’t worry me. I
propose to live my life each day with the hope of finding something amusing
each day, spreading happiness each moment, to hug someone who needs it, to
reach out to somebody’s outstretched hand and maybe teach someone to answer the
question that plagued me all through my life, “what next?”
What’s next? Live life.
