The Pensioner

by MP Anand

Peering through thick glasses
With a shaky, veined and wrinkled hand
he scrawls with great effort his signature
against his name in the Pension register at the Calicut Corporation office
and collects his monthly pension from the pension clerk.

Slightly detached, he notices his serial number is steadily decreasing
implying many of his senior colleagues have passed away.
His time will come only God knows when
and the finishing line is not very far away.
He chats with his colleagues - a temporary escape
from the loneliness and infirmity in his life.

The talk is mostly about their diseases- blood pressure, diabetes
lack of or the excess of sleep. arthritis, prostate problems
varicose veins, good old times or their departed colleagues.
Many agree that the electric crematorium is the best
cheap, easy and less time consuming for their children.

No more fire in them to discuss fiery politics
No verbal  war over polemic issues
No bitter competetion,  no ego clashes
Their are past their prime - weary, worn, and spent
Every one has withdrawn into themselves
Decrepit by old age, diseases and their impending end.

He bids farewell
comes out, blinks in the scorching afternoon Sun
and heads home slowly
uncertain whether he will meet them again the next month.