Skip to main content

Being a Pensioner



My pension is a princely sum of Rs 1812.

Having completed 35 years of teaching, I retire with that monthly pension. Someone had warned me not to count on the pension at all as the amount won’t be enough even to meet one’s most basic requirements. But I had not imagined the amount to be as beggarly as what landed in my bank account on the first working day of this month.

My first impulse was to laugh as I stared at the phone message: “Your A/C [number] has credit for BY SALARY of Rs 1812…” [sic]. I thought it was some mistake. When I found out that it was the monthly pension granted to me by my magnanimous government which is Sabka Saath for Sabka Vikas, my laughter became boisterous enough to draw Maggie’s attention.

“What’s the joke?” She asked. She was not quite chuffed with our government’s largesse. “Be a true patriot and chant three cheers for our Minimum Government, Maximum Governance,” I advised her.

“We are children of lesser gods,” I philosophised with a grin that would erase any touch of sentiment. Anyway, sentiments have been hijacked lock, stock, and barrel by the nationalists nowadays and there’s not much of that stuff left for the sickluars and libtards like me. Ours are the jokes like the ‘pension-salary’.

Government employees are the children of the greater gods. They work less, get paid the highest, earn in addition through bribes, bonuses, and allowances, and then retire with huge pensions. “Even our future Constitution, Manusmriti, advocates such divine inequalities,” I concluded.

The phone rings interrupting my theological defence of the divine inferiority of the private sector employees. The call is from the pension office. “You have to submit your Jeevan Pramaan in order to continue receiving your monthly pension…”

It’s then I realised that retiring from job puts on you the comic onus of proving to your government at regular intervals that you are still alive by producing a certificate called Jeevan Pramaan! Being a pensioner is quite a tough job, even if your pension is peanuts.

Comments

  1. Wow. I find this hard to believe. Isn't there a minimum amount fixed for this? It seems very unfair. Nevertheless, I hope you have a happy retired life.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. The minimum pension for the EPF people (private sector) is Rs 1000. And the maximum is 7500. I wonder who qualify for that maximum because the highest salary fixed is 15000! It's a rather bizarre system which I haven't understood yet.

      I'm happy because I had never pinned my hope on this pension. But i think the system should change simply because it is unjust.

      By the way, happy to see you after a long time.

      Delete
  2. My father was very particular that both his daughters should work in a govt sector. Reason was a pensionable job. To his dismay we both chose the pvt sector. Result was we were both handed over a number of insurance policies by him����

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. There is something very unfair about a system which blatantly discriminates among its citizens. Why should one section be pampered with good wages and then pensions while the majority are left open to exploitation?

      Delete
  3. How come you became a pensioner when you are too young to understand the pension schemes in your country?

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Ivan the unusual friend

When you are down and out, you will find that people are of two types. One is the kind that will walk away from you because now you are no good. They will pretend that you don’t exist. They don’t see you even if you happen to land right in front of them. The other is the sort that will have much fun at your expense. They will crack jokes about you even to you or preach at you or pray over you. This latter people are usually pretty happy that you are broke. You make them feel more comfortable with themselves even to the point of self-righteousness. Ivan was an exception. When I slipped on the path of life and started a free fall that would last many years before I hit the bottom without a thud but with enormous anguish, Ivan stood by me for some reason of his own. He didn’t display any affection which probably he didn’t have. He didn’t display any dislike either. There was no question of preaching or praying. No jokes either. Ivan was my colleague for a brief period at St Joseph’s

Joe the tenacious friend

AI-generated illustration You outgrow certain friendships because life changes you in ways that nobody, including you, had expected. Joe is one such friend of mine who was very dear to me once. That friendship cannot be sustained anymore because I am no more the person whom Joe knew and loved to amble along with. And Joe seems incapable of understanding the fact that people can change substantially. Joe and I were supposed to meet one of these days after a gap of more than two decades. I scuttled the meeting rather heartlessly. Just because Joe’s last messages carried words that smacked of intimacy. My life has gone through so much devastating fire that the delicate warmth of intimacy has become repulsive. Joe was a good friend of mine while we were in Shillong. He was a post-graduate student and a part-time schoolteacher when I met him first. I was a fulltime schoolteacher teaching math and science to ninth and tenth graders. My dream was to postgraduate in English literature an

Kailasnath the Paradox

AI-generated illustration It wasn’t easy to discern whether he was a friend or merely an amused onlooker. He was my colleague at the college, though from another department. When my life had entered a slippery slope because of certain unresolved psychological problems, he didn’t choose to shun me as most others did. However, when he did condescend to join me in the college canteen sipping tea and smoking a cigarette, I wasn’t ever sure whether he was befriending me or mocking me. Kailasnath was a bundle of paradoxes. He appeared to be an alpha male, so self-assured and lord of all that he surveyed. Yet if you cared to observe deeply, you would find too many chinks in his armour. Beneath all those domineering words and gestures lay ample signs of frailty. The tall, elegantly slim and precisely erect stature would draw anyone’s attention quickly. Kailasnath was always attractively dressed though never unduly stylish. Everything about him exuded an air of chic confidence. But the wa

Machiavelli the Reverend

Let us go today , you and I, through certain miasmic streets. Nothing will be quite clear along our way because this journey is through some delusions and illusions. You will meet people wearing holy robes and talking about morality and virtues. Some of them will claim to be god’s men and some will make taller claims. Some of them are just amorphous. Invisible. But omnipotent. You can feel their power around you. On you. Oppressing you. Stifling you. Reverend Machiavelli is one such oppressive power. You will meet Franz Kafka somewhere along the way. Joseph K’s ghost will pass by. Remember Joseph K who was arrested one fine morning for a crime that nobody knew anything about? Neither Joseph nor the men who arrest him know why Joseph K is arrested. The power that keeps Joseph K under arrest is invisible. He cannot get answers to his valid questions from the visible agents of that power. He cannot explain himself to that power. Finally, he is taken to a quarry outside the town wher

Levin the good shepherd

AI-generated image The lost sheep and its redeemer form a pet motif in Christianity. Jesus portrayed himself as a good shepherd many times. He said that the good shepherd will leave his 99 sheep in order to bring the lost sheep back to the fold. When he finds the lost sheep, the shepherd is happier about that one sheep than about the 99, Jesus claimed. He was speaking metaphorically. The lost sheep is the sinner in Jesus’ parable. Sin is a departure from the ‘right’ way. Angels raise a toast in heaven whenever a sinner returns to the ‘right’ path [Luke 15:10]. A lot of Catholic priests I know carry some sort of a Redeemer complex in their souls. They love the sinner so much that they cannot rest until they make the angels of God run for their cups of joy. I have also been fortunate to have one such priest-friend whom I shall call Levin in this post. He has befriended me right from the year 1976 when I was a blundering adolescent and he was just one year older than me. He possesse