A retired Police Commissioner had recently moved out of his official residence into his own house, nestled in a quiet colony. He took great pride in his accomplishments and his former stature.
Each evening, he would go for a walk in the neighborhood park. Yet, he neither greeted nor acknowledged anyone. He believed the others in the colony weren’t of his status *not worth his time or attention*
One day, while he was sitting on a park bench, an elderly man came and sat beside him. The man began a friendly conversation, but the Commissioner wasn’t interested in listening. Instead, he talked only about himself — his rank, his authority, his achievements.*He often reminded others that he lived here not by necessity*, but because he owned the property.
This routine continued for several days. The elderly man listened quietly each time, never interrupting.
Then, one evening, the old man finally spoke.
“Commissioner Sahib,” he said gently, *“an electric bulb has value only while it shines. Once it burns out, it doesn’t matter whether it was a 10-watt or a 100-watt bulb* All burnt-out bulbs are the same — silent, lifeless, forgotten. I’ve been living in this colony for five years, and not once have I told anyone thats I served as a Member of Parliament — twice.”
The Commissioner’s expression shifted.
The old man continued, his voice calm.
“You see the man sitting to your far right? That’s Mr. Verma. He retired as a General Manager from Indian Railways. The man he’s chatting with — Rao — is a retired Lieutenant General from the Army. And the one quietly walking in white, that’s Mr. Shiva. He was once the Chairman of ISRO. None of them speak of their past titles. They don’t feel the need to.”
“I’m only telling you what I know,” the man said, pausing before he added, “Because, at the end of the day, we are all burnt-out bulbs. Whether we were zero-watt, 40, 60, or 100-watt — whether we were LED, CFL, halogen, or decorative; once the power is gone, we’re all the same.”
“After retirement, whether you were a Police Commissioner or a Police Constable, it no longer matters.”
He looked at the Commissioner thoughtfully and said,
*“The rising sun and the setting sun are both beautiful*. But the world bows only to the *rising one.* That’s just human nature. We must accept that reality.”
“Our titles, our positions are all temporary. If we let them define us, we’re bound to be lost when they leave us.”
“In chess, every piece — the king, the queen, the bishop, the pawn — has its value only while the game is in play. *When it’s over, they’re all returned to the same box and the lid is shut.”*
He smiled softly, looking around at the people in the park. “So be happy in the moment. Hope for happiness in the future. But never cling to what is no longer yours. No matter how many medals or certificates we collect in life, in the end, everyone receives just one: The Death Certificate’.
