Retiring, returning - willingly

Khaleej Times OPINION

Asha Iyer Kumar 2 October 2011, 7:49 PM

An acquaintance of ours is hanging his boots up and heading home after working in Dubai for eighteen years. I do not know his age, but I can say from his looks and his sprightliness that he has more working years left in him.

He was a picture of complete contentment as he announced his decision to call it a day some days ago. If there was one emotion that swept over me in that moment, it was unadulterated envy at the man and his wife’s immense capacity to say, “Enough. We are satiated.” It was almost as if their hearts were letting out a happy burp for all of us to hear. Been there, done that.

As expat workers, we are all faced with the certainty of beating a retreat home sooner or later. But it is a prospect that a majority of us hate to think of or confront when the moment presents itself either in the form of a pink slip or a personal compulsion. We shun the thought, like we do with death and disease. For all the emotional outpourings about home and all the nostalgia about rains and relations, we still have a fascination for living abroad and it is one that we cannot wish away easily.

Blame it on the comforts that the mind and body has got habituated to in this land of plenty or to the tedium of adapting back to a lackluster, disorderly existence in comparison, a majority of us would want to extend our lease in a foreign country, fill our insatiable personal coffers and talk of retirement as if it existed light years away. And should such a discussion crop up among the fifty somethings sometime, one is quick to exclaim, “I would love to. But one has to keep doing something, hasn’t he? Or one would rust to death.”

Having something to do is such a compulsion to us that despite a healthy corpus stashed away for a comfortable retirement, one chooses to plod, revising retirement plans an umpteen number of times. Pray tell, is it a genuine fear of inactivity that keeps us in the grind or is it the uneasiness of letting go the pay cheque and the vain trappings of a working life that makes us report for work and endure the stress, even after the sons have graduated and daughters have married? It must be a little of all, I reckon.

Drawing a line to one’s wants is a tough task. So is deciding what comprises a healthy bank statement for the future. When ‘saving enough to beat the inflation’ becomes the objective, when the prospect of an intransigent, lonely old age looms, then no amount in the bank seems enough. The labouring limbs strive to gather might to serve some more years and the will refuses to wilt.

To be able to arrive at a decision to call it quits and recede from the active shoreline in spite of the above mentioned concerns calls for immense maturity and wisdom. It is a rare quality that comes with years of equanimous living and modest thinking. If one only has to keep doing something, there are options even after going home. One could globe trot if one has the wherewithal and health. One could join an NGO or teach children in the neighbourhood if one has the qualifications. One could read, paint or indulge in interests he previously couldn’t. If nothing, one could reflect on his past, take stock and perhaps, write an autobiography, if not to publish, at least for his grand children to read. Every human being gathers lessons on life which he can pass on.

Knowing one’s options and taking refuge in them is a challenging task. That our friend could arrive at that point of resolve is what makes me jealous. There is a joy in having your desires fulfilled, but there is a greater joy in being desire-less. Deciding to return home giving up the perks of a life here is nothing less than that state. In some ways, it marks the beginning of one’s journey to freedom and peace.