July
27, 2007
Musings of a Superannuated Man
Retired means to my mind a person who was tired
earlier and is now tired again. He was tired while
working for a living and is now tired of having
nothing much to work for except to keep on living.
.
Retiring from service, on superannuation, does not
mean that one has to retire from life itself. Had
that been so, the angel of death would have got
me a long time ago. I keep myself extremely busy
doing virtually nothing but giving the impression
to that angel that it would not be an angelic act
to spirit away such a busy, useful person. If he,
nevertheless, calls he would first be put on hold
and would then be connected to the voice mail. This
is what he would hear:
“This is the voice mail system of Retired
Guys, Inc. Thank you for calling; your call is very
important to us. If you are calling to find out
the welfare of a member, please press ‘1’
now.
“If you are calling to secure the schedule
of a member, press 2 now and you will be advised
of the working hours and shift of each one.
“If you are calling to leave something for
a member, please press 3 now and our system will
give you the directions to our receiving dockyard.
“If you wish to join any of our more than
a dozen facilities, please press 4 now and you will
hear the addresses to enable you to select the one
nearest you. Please keep your pen and paper handy.
“If you need to speak to a particular individual,
please press 5 now and you will hear the extension
numbers of our 123,456 members in an alphabetical
order. For more options, press 6 now.
“If you are already feeling drowsy, tired
and confused, after hearing the menu of this super-soporific,
dopey joint, we would urge you to take a nap now.
When you wake up refreshed, you may redial our number
and hear this menu again. Or, you might have by
then, hopefully, forgotten why you called us. Have
a nice nap.”
The angel of death would not call again being thoroughly
confused by the blessings of modern technology.
His experience for so many centuries would come
to naught in a system that subjects him to the monologue
of a machine and turns his own voice into a soliloquy
of an idiot. Even an angel can’t have a dialogue
with an answering machine!
The numerous manifestations of digital technologies
starting with the personal computer to the Internet
and cyber space make me feel like an Alice of the
18th century transplanted into the Wonderland of
the 21st. A.D stands now for All Digital.
I realize why god has favored us with ten fingertips
-not for counting- but to keep pressing the keys
on the computer pad, or the buttons of other digital
gizmos, bulk of our waking hours, without developing
calluses on the tips. The system undoubtedly saves
a lot of physical exertion. It gives a fast tempo
to whatever you are doing. And, it doesn’t
disturb your sedentary posture in the office chair.
The lack of exercise expands only your girth. To
compensate for all the hours spent in a chair you
get on the treadmill, recalling the words of Alice:
“This is a strange country; you keep running
all the time to be able to remain at the same place.”
You may prefer to go on a jog. You see every day
so many persons, particularly women, jogging all
times of the day in various stages of undress to
make up for the labor saved by the press button
jobs.
The desktop personal computer, introduced a couple
of decades back, marked the advent of the computer
age. America rushed headlong into this new era,
more people responding to the allure of a powerful
new master. The copy-cats of Pakistan and
of many other Third World countries, who put on
proudly used American jeans with large holes on
the knees, have acquired this contraption to be
“in” the elite crowd. For them the computer
is the master of their master. You can well imagine
its status value for the slave of a slave.
Even in America a new national divide is developing
between technological haves and have-nots. Eschewing
personal computers in this day and age is like saying
“no thanks” to a refrigerator or telephone.
If you are not computer literate, you are in American
lingo “no good for nothing”.
Fortunately, I did not have much difficulty in handling
a computer for word processing, since I had already
known typing fairly well. It was, however, like
riding a horse after having ridden a donkey for
decades. And, by leapfrogging a century or so, one
does not become a person of modern age.
Matter of fact, I was labeled an outdated, out-of-step,
person over 20 years ago when I had to give a talk
to a group of new entrants to a Central Superior
Service (CSS). Talking on that day about the moralities
of service, I had emphasized the need to avoid the
temptations of corruption and abuse of their powers,
as it would never pay in the long run.
After the talk some of those young officers remarked,
I was informed later: “What an antiquated,
outdated individual. He strikes more like a Don
Quixote.”
Retirement did not unhinge me. For, I had not allowed
myself to be defined by my career or official status.
So, I did not lose my identity when my career was
pulled away. But, I did find it inconvenient to
have to stand in a queue for long periods of time
to make payments of my utility bills. Earlier, some
staff member attended to this enabling me to get
through the working hours seamlessly.
Books have been and still are my best friends. And,
I avoided work-related social bonds. My friends
have always been from outside that circle. They
continue to be my friends and the source of support
till now. That has been the greatest blessing for
me.
