*The Veteran’s Predicament: A Case of PFSD*

By Gen. VK Singh *The Veteran’s Predicament: A Case of PFSD* *Post-retirement life was supposed to be peaceful—morning tea, newspaper in hand, and a well-earned break from years of military service* . But as many veterans discovered, an unspoken challenge awaited them: *Post-Fifty Plus Stress Disorder (PFSD).* *The Polarization Predicament* One of the earliest signs of PFSD was a *sudden surge in admiration for beauty. Every woman—whether a neighbor, a shopkeeper, or even the doctor at the clinic* —seemed to radiate elegance. And with that admiration came the uncontrollable greeting reflex. “ *Ah, Miss Beautiful, looking absolutely graceful today!* ” The first time it happened, there was a polite smile. The second time, a slight nod. By the third time, the smile had faded. By the fourth, there was only a hurried exit. “ *Strange,* ” he thought. “ *Compliments were once appreciated. Why does everyone walk away now?”* Of course, in his mind, he still had the charm of a young officer in uniform. The world, however, saw a 50-plus man enthusiastically handing out compliments like a political candidate before elections. *The ‘When’ Syndrome* Another major symptom of PFSD was the When Syndrome. Conversations no longer started with “How are you?” but with: “ *When I was leading my company* …” “ *When we were in Kargil* …” “ *When discipline actually meant something…* ” At first, listeners showed interest, even admiration. But over time, responses followed a pattern: *The sippy fake smile – a polite but vacant nod.* The discreet glance at the phone – as if checking for urgent messages. The *“Excuse me for a second* ” – *a strategic withdrawal.* The complete disappearance. By the time the fifth ‘when’ was uttered, he was usually speaking to an empty room. *The Perception Disorder* PFSD also affected how people were seen—or rather, how one believed they were seen. For some reason, he felt people should be eager to spend time with him. After all, he had a lifetime of stories to tell, wisdom to share, and more free time than he knew what to do with. But reality was different. Phone calls went unanswered. Meetings were always postponed. The old comrades he tried to gather for drinks had suddenly developed urgent family functions every evening. One day, at a local café, he spotted a fellow veteran and waved. The other man hesitated for a fraction of a second—then suddenly became deeply fascinated by a ‘50% Discount on Pastries’ sign and quickly walked away. *The Last Stand at Home* Realizing that the world had moved on, he decided that at least home should follow some discipline. “ *From now on, dinner will be at 1930 hours sharp. No latecomers. No excuses* .” The response was immediate. “ *And who exactly is in command here?” came the sharp reply from across the table* . He hesitated. *He had faced enemy fire, led troops through storms, but this—this was a different battlefield.* Within seconds, *his rank crumbled. Command was swiftly reassigned* . By the end of the week, he found himself not issuing orders, but following them—mostly in the kitchen. *Mission Abort* One evening, as he lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, he sighed. The mind was still in battle mode, but life had declared a ceasefire. Just then, his wife patted his shoulder. *“You don’t have to keep fighting,” she said softly. “Enjoy the peace.”* *And for the first time in years, he smiled.* Maybe PFSD wasn’t something to defeat. Maybe it was just another mission—learning how to stand down with dignity. *Some battles are meant to be won. Others* ? *Well, sometimes you just need to surrender—gracefully.*