Last Updated on April 5, 2026 by Hemant Beniwal
Prakash (name changed) walked into my office on a Tuesday afternoon in March. He had retired exactly eleven days ago.
He sat down, placed both hands on the table, and said something I’ve heard hundreds of times in 25 years of advising: “Hemant, I don’t know what to do with myself.”
This wasn’t a man who lacked money. He had ₹3.2 crore in investments, a paid-off flat in Pune, and a pension of ₹78,000 per month. His finances were fine. His life was not.
For thirty-four years, Prakash had woken up at 6:15 AM, taken the 7:40 local, and walked into his office by 9. Now he woke up at 6:15 out of habit, sat at the dining table, and stared at the wall. His wife, Sunita (name changed), told me later that for the first week, he would get dressed in formal clothes and then sit on the sofa — as if he was waiting for someone to tell him where to go.
I didn’t give him advice that day. I told him a story instead. The story of what happened to another client of mine over his first year of retirement. What went wrong. What went right. And what surprised both of us.
This is that story. And Prakash’s.

Month 1-3: The Silence
The first thing that hits you after retirement is not boredom. It’s silence.
Prakash described it perfectly. “For 34 years, my phone rang 20 times a day. Now it rings once — and it’s a spam call.”
This is the phase I call the identity vacuum. You spent decades being “Prakash from Tata” or “Prakash sir from the third floor.” Now you’re just Prakash. At home. In the way.
Sunita, who had run the household independently for three decades, suddenly had her husband underfoot all day. She loved him. She also wanted him to find something to do. Their small arguments about lunch timing and TV volume were not really about lunch or TV. They were about two people renegotiating a relationship that had worked perfectly when one of them left the house at 7:40 every morning.
My other client — let’s call him Rajan (name changed) — had gone through the same thing three years earlier. Rajan had tried to fill his days immediately. He joined a gym on Day 2. Signed up for a painting class on Day 5. Started volunteering at an NGO by Day 10. By Day 30, he was exhausted and resentful. He told me, “I’m busier than when I was working, and none of it means anything.”
The mistake both men made — and most retirees make — is trying to replace work with activities. Work wasn’t just an activity. It was purpose, identity, social life, structure, and income, all bundled into one thing. You can’t replace that with a painting class.
“The biggest mistake retirees make is not running out of money. It’s running out of meaning.”
— From a conversation with Prakash, 6 months after retirement
I told Prakash to do nothing for the first month. Literally nothing structured. Just observe. Notice when he felt energised. Notice when he felt empty. Notice who he missed. Notice what he didn’t miss.
He hated this advice.
Month 4-6: The Experiments
By April, Prakash had made some observations. He missed mentoring junior colleagues. He didn’t miss spreadsheets. He enjoyed morning walks but hated the gym. He liked cooking — something he’d never done while working — and had started making breakfast for Sunita every morning. She was surprised. So was he.
Rajan, in his fourth month, had quit the painting class and the NGO. But he’d kept one thing: a weekly visit to a government school where he helped Class 10 students with mathematics. “When a kid finally understands algebra because of something I explained,” Rajan told me, “I feel more useful than I ever felt in a boardroom.”
Prakash heard about this and found his own version. A friend connected him to a startup founder in his fifties who needed a senior mentor — someone who understood manufacturing operations. No salary. Just two meetings a month. Prakash said yes.
Something shifted. He wasn’t filling time anymore. He was choosing where to put his attention.
Around this time, Prakash and I sat down to review his retirement plan. His investments were generating ₹1.4 lakh per month through a systematic withdrawal plan, plus his pension. Total: ₹2.18 lakh per month. His expenses were ₹1.6 lakh. Comfortable.
But here’s what I noticed: his expenses had actually dropped from his working days. No commute costs. No office wardrobe updates. Fewer restaurant lunches. The money fear that had kept him awake in Month 1 started to look irrational in Month 4. This is common. The fear of running out of money is almost always bigger than the actual risk — especially for people who’ve planned well.
Retirement isn’t just about money. It’s about what you do with every morning.
If you’re approaching retirement and want someone to help you plan both — the finances and the transition — we should talk.
Month 7-9: The Rhythm
By August, Prakash had a rhythm. Not a schedule — he hated schedules now — but a rhythm.
Mornings: walk, breakfast with Sunita, one hour of reading. He’d picked up a habit of reading biographies. “I spent my whole career reading balance sheets,” he said. “Now I read about people.”
Mid-mornings: his mentoring sessions, or phone calls with his old team (who still called for advice — this mattered to him more than he admitted).
Afternoons: whatever felt right. Sometimes a nap. Sometimes he’d drive to the university library. Sometimes he’d sit in a café with the newspaper and feel no guilt about it.
Evenings: cooking experiments. He’d become unexpectedly serious about it. He was working his way through a Marathi cookbook his mother had written by hand forty years ago. Sunita said the food was “sometimes brilliant, sometimes terrible, always entertaining.”
Two things had changed fundamentally.
First, Prakash had stopped comparing retirement to his working life. He wasn’t trying to be as productive or as busy. He’d accepted that a good retired day looks different from a good working day.
Second, he’d started spending on experiences instead of things. A trip to Varanasi with Sunita. A weekend with his college friends in Mahabaleshwar. He told me, “I spent ₹80,000 on that Varanasi trip. Best money I’ve ever spent.”
Rajan, meanwhile, had deepened his school teaching. The principal had asked him to help with a career guidance programme. Rajan, who had spent 30 years in the corporate world, was now helping 15-year-olds think about their futures. “I wish someone had done this for me when I was their age,” he said.
Month 10-12: The Settling
When Prakash came to see me at the one-year mark, he was a different man. Not because anything dramatic had happened. Because the anxiety had left.
He told me about his week. He and Sunita had joined a walking group — four retired couples who walked together every morning at 6:30. “Half the time we talk about our aches and pains,” he laughed. “The other half we argue about politics. It’s wonderful.”
His mentoring had grown. The startup founder had introduced him to two more entrepreneurs. Prakash now spent about 10-12 hours a week on mentoring — enough to feel purposeful, not enough to feel burdened.
His relationship with Sunita had changed too. “We’ve been married 32 years,” he said. “I think we’re just now learning how to spend a full day together. It took work. But it’s good.”
The finances had held up. His corpus had actually grown slightly despite withdrawals, because the equity portion had performed well and his expenses remained below projections. We reviewed his estate planning, updated his nomination details, and ensured his health insurance was adequate for the next five years.
I asked him the question I ask every client at the one-year mark: “If you could go back to Day 1 of retirement, what would you tell yourself?”
He thought for a while.
“I’d tell myself: don’t panic. The emptiness is temporary. The freedom is permanent. Give yourself six months before you decide if retirement is good or bad.”
— Prakash, one year into retirement
Rajan told me something similar when I’d asked him the same question. “I’d tell myself that retirement doesn’t come with instructions. You have to write your own. And the first draft will be terrible. That’s okay.”
I’ve been advising people on retirement for 25 years. I’ve seen it go well and I’ve seen it go badly. The ones where it goes well — it’s never because of the money alone. It’s because the person figured out what they wanted their days to look like. Not their portfolio. Their days.
Some people travel. Some people teach. Some people start small businesses. Some people read, cook, volunteer, or simply learn to sit still without guilt. There is no right answer.
I won’t tell you what to do after retirement. But now you know what it looks like.
Planning for retirement is about more than money.
It’s about building a life you don’t need a vacation from. Let’s build yours.
💬 Your Turn
If you’re retired — what surprised you most about the first year? If you’re still working — what are you most worried about? Share below.

Hello!!
I have clarification. I am paying premium for my ICICI RICH prulife pension fund.
It has annuity option. However, if i opt to surrender the policy after premium fully paid (10 years), what would be the tax impact?? I do not want to get annuity later as the amount would be paltry.
Thanks,
Srinivasan
Hi Srinivasan,
This is bit tricky.. total amount will be added to your income & tax accordingly.
Now, i am 50 yrs old, i retired at age of 60. my pension will be 50,ooo/-. My income at that time was 1,60,0000/-. how can i cope up after my retirement. Ihave two daughter at their present age are 10&11.Ihave only son age about 17yrs. kindly adviced me.
thanks, very well explained
Very helpful post for all the readers who are about to enter the retirement phase. I would like to share this post with my dad as this can be helpful to him to plan it accordingly. Keep sharing such helpful tips with the readers.
Thanks For sharing a great post. Its really helpful for us.
Thanks For sharing a great post. Its really helpful for us.
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