Chapter 1. The Retirement.

Mr.Raghavan hears every single tick of the grandfather clock. He hears the rustling of the leaves and the chattering of the evening birds, the sounds of dusk. Each heightens his feeling of loneliness. A feeling that he is too proud to acknowledge. Sixty years of life lived as a proud man and that is how he will live the rest of his life, with his head held high. He picks up the Hindu once again and tries to concentrate on what he is reading. The sudden ring of the calling bell surprises him. He walks with small quick steps to open the door, expectation lighting up his face.

"Raghavan, how are you? I thought I would drop by for a quick evening chat!"

The house owner, Gangadharan could not have chosen a more inappropriate time to pay a visit to Raghavan. Within a few minutes, he realizes that the latter is not interested in any kind of small talk with him. Slightly hurt, he leaves the small house, already pondering on his next victim.

Raghavan settles back into the chair and takes a deep breath.

What did that Gangatharan think? That, he had time to discuss the town gossip because he was "retired" now? He would not and would never be a part of the useless old men talk group. No job in their hands and nothing useful to talk about all evening but rumours and gossip! Ask them anything about politics and general knowledge and they would gather their veshtis and disappear from sight! Worthless fools!

The shrill ring of the telephone distracts him and he hollers into the receiver,
"Raghavan speaking."

***
"Did you have your dinner?"

Parvathi's typical questions. Questions that drove him up the wall but of late, he had begun even to miss those simple conversations with his wife.

He grunts a yes into the receiver because he knows that no other answer would satisfy her.

"Did you turn off the gas? Have you taken your tablets?"

Ignoring her questions, he asks,
"How is the baby? Have the rashes gone?"

"Yes, she is better now. Do you want to talk to Sanjay? He is in the kitchen with Neelima..."

He senses the disapproval in his wife's voice and smiles. Softening down considerably at the thought of his simple, old-fashioned wife stuck in America, he asks,

"How is your leg now? Can you walk easily?"
She had fallen down while trying to get on to an elevator at a store.

"Yes", her voice trembles a little and she says, "By God's grace, as soon as the baby is five or six months old, I will find my way back. What does an old woman like me have here in America anyway?"

Raghavan remains silent for sometime. Somehow, even the thought of making his wife go to America alone did not prompt him to accompany her. He did not have a fascination for cars, clean roads and big buildings - "Oh, these roads are so dirty, mama", Neelima had purred a few years back, "The same dirty roads that you grew up on!" is what he would have liked to tell her - he did not care for an immigrant treatment in America. He was proud to be an Indian and his soil would see him breathe his last. No amount of pleading from his son or wife and half-hearted requests from his daughter-in-law could convince him otherwise.

"Take care of your health. Am sure Sanjay and Neelima can manage once you leave. Bye."

Raghavan feels better after talking to his wife. As he closes his eyes, he thinks of the time Sanjay was born and the thought lulls him to sleep.

***
The milkman rings the bell and Raghvan searches for his spectacles in the semi-darkness. By force of habit, he looks at the clock and thinks to himself that he is late for work today. As his head clears, a dull realization hits him that he is no longer employed. Old and retired. He moves slowly doing about his morning chores trying as best as he can to spread his activities till mid-day. The temple bell rings heralding a long day ahead for him. His thoughts drift back to the day that Parvathi had dragged him to the temple...was it only six months back?

"It is such an honor! How many people do you know who have been awarded, "an employee of the year" shield?"

"It is not a shield and I know of many of my friends who have been recognized as "Employee of the Year" Why must I spend my time chanting at the temple when I can spend it at office doing justice to my award?"

"Today is an auspicious day. You will have to come to the temple with me..."

And the argument had lasted till the temple steps. Parvathi had insisted on an archanai and she did not let go of him until she had adorned his forehead with prominent Vibhuthi marks - "For Drishti!", she had warned him, when he tried to take it off.

***
And six months later, here he was, with a so-called voluntary retirement forced upon him by his unctuous boss - "It's like this Mr.Raghavan, we think you would benefit by this proposal...". And suddenly, his sense of importance and pride was gone, without a warning. He was not Raghavan, Vice President of a prestigious company but just Raghavan, retired and biding his time for the end. He had decided then that he would not be a part of any of the religious groups in his neighbourhood, chanting what they little understood, preaching what they little practised. He would still lead a meaningful life...but somehow, his life seemed without any direction now. He was not the bread-winner of the house, but an old man living on his pension. With nothing to concentrate on the major part of the day, he started having unwholesome thoughts about his own old age and death. A sudden noise interrupted his listless thoughts...

He looked up and Gangadharan cleared his throat again. Raghavan decided to put an end to these visits. He opened his mouth to say something acerbic and was interrupted by Gangadharan,

"Raghavan, do you have a few minutes to spare?"
Was he mocking him? Of course he had a few minutes, he had his whole life ahead of him to spare but he would probably not waste it on Gangadharan!

"I need to talk to you about a personal problem..."

Raghavan took a closer look at the other man and noticed tell-tale signs of weariness on his face. He motioned him to sit down.

"We probably don't know each other well enough for me to confide in you..."

Can't this man talk except in circles?

"but I know you are a capable man and I really have nowhere to turn to for some sensible advice..."

And in his own circuitous way of speaking, Gangadharan confided his problems to Raghavan.

"You see, it's not like my son does not love me or respect me anymore. It's just that he has so many responsibilities now, what with the baby and all and I am probably just a burden...but I have nowhere else to go. I have spent my pension money on my son and I cannot imagine living in an old age home. Rangachari and Sheshadri are in a similar situation themselves..."

Raghavan listened silently.

So, the loud old men's club had its own share of problems...

He still did not understand clearly the purpose of Gangadharan's visit but now he had a new problem to solve. His mind clicked to work immediately, a well-oiled engine going about its tasks. He asked a few questions and tried to sort out Gangadharan's problems. Not that he had a solution at hand but two heads were better than one and it was obvious Gangadharan needed someone like Raghavan to listen to him more than anything else.

It would be far-fetched to say that a strong friendship forged between the two old men but a bond did develop. Raghavan began to look forward to Gangadharan's daily visits. He even spoke to Gangadharan's son, who appeared to be scared of him. Gangadharan even went to the extent of suggesting that Raghavan should visit America to see his grandchild. A severe look from Raghavan silenced him, but that night Raghavan did atleast consider the possibility of a trip to America.

Parvathi returned from America with suitcases full of gifts for her husband, her relatives, her innumerable temple friends and ofcourse a load of stories to share with her husband about America, her daughter-in-law and her grandchild. She seemed surprised at her husband's sudden change in temperament since the retirement but did not guess that it had anything to do with Gangadharan. For her, he was just another cup of filter coffee that she had to make every evening and she was glad to do so.

And Raghavan finally made peace with his retirement.

I gave up on the dhtml when I noticed the absolute positioning messes up the display on smaller screen sizes. Also, I had the story written with Raghavan going to America and his funny experiences there but it's way too long for a Saturday morning, so the end folks!