Pensioners paradise

“Learning is an ornament in prosperity, a refuge in adversity, and a provision in old age.” 
― Aristotle

The Bank was an undersized one situated in a huge open place in the most picturesque surrounding. Across the road were a beautiful garden and an open restaurant. On one side was the Volkswagen showroom. This Bank is situated on the road leading to National Chemical Laboratory near Pashan. It was crammed with people. The employees across the counters were snatching a break to drink water to wet their parched throats as they answered and directed people. The guard was watching everyone cautiously and answering the queries put by the tired customers. My husband tugged me along though I was not very interested being there. I stood near the gateway hoping he would finish his work soon. He has taken up all these responsibilities hence I felt naive as I looked around the transactions going on. There were many notes of notice put up. One which caught my attention was a notice put for pensioners. It asked the pensioners to provide a living certificate with a copy of their Pan Card and other certificates. It was amusing that a person needed to provide evidence for his existence to claim his pension. I observed that there were many old people in the bank. It was pitiable to see many of the old couples slowly winding their way to the bank. In spite of the desire to serve people at the earliest it seemed to be a Herculean task for the authorities.

Then I saw a van which looked like a locker safe which was accompanied by two police authorities who carried a gun each. They stood cautiously as the bank official opened the door of the van followed by a grill door. The bank employee went in and brought a metallic suitcase with a lock. He closed all the doors and walked into the bank to a covert corner. At the end there were two counters called the green counters which had been well decorated. On inquiring, I came to know that these counters were like a mini ATM. I strained to read the functions when I saw a man sitting over there gazing a lady. He was seated and gaped at a lady standing near the counter. The lady walked away detesting his looks. The man gave the impression of being inquisitive about his surroundings. The bank employees came again with a larger suitcase and the police man following. It diverted my attention back to the door as they started loading the suitcase in the van again. Out of the blue I saw an old lady drag the old man towards the door. The old man walked like a little child. At the doorway he paused uncertainly. The lady got down on the step outside the door and coaxed him to get down. He stepped down cautiously and smiled gleefully. She then hauled him to a pole and left him holding the pole and then went to a counter to get the passbook updated. The man grasped the pole and behaved like a little boy glancing here and there, never leaving his hand for the fear of falling down. When the lady concluded her work, he held on to her like a child does to his mother.

Slowly they walked out reminding me of the second childishness in man. I understood the person was undergoing a neuromuscular disorder. He looked at people unassumingly but people misread him. The lady had brought this old man along with her to collect his pension. It was dismal that the man who had earned the pension no longer understood what it meant now. It was wonderful that he provided his family a livelihood despite his shortcomings.

 “Cherish all your happy moments: they make a fine cushion for old age.” 
― Christopher Morley