When Retirement Felt Lonely, This 60-YO Found Belonging in a College Hostel

Every morning, as the sun peeks through the tall trees of Maharaja Agrasen University in Himachal Pradesh, you’ll spot Gopal Krishna Sharma walking through the campus garden. 

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His pace is steady, his posture upright, and his face always carries a smile — the kind that comes from belonging. Students pass by, some greeting him with a nod, others stopping for a brief conversation. 

At 60, Sharma is not here to take lectures or chase deadlines. He is here because, after retirement, this college campus gave him something he thought he had lost — a sense of purpose.

“I cannot sit idle. The busier I am, the better my life gets,” says Gopal Krishna Sharma to The Better India. 

Today, he lives in the boys’ hostel, works as an assistant registrar, and shares his days, meals and walks with students less than half his age. What began as a post-retirement experiment has quietly grown into a deeply meaningful second chapter.

From a village in Himachal to university corridors

Born in Aloh village in Himachal Pradesh’s Kangra district, Gopal Krishna Sharma built his life step by step, through consistency and effort rather than big turning points. He passed his matriculation examination in 1980 and began his professional life with a diploma in short and long typing. His early career took him through various departments — the Punjab State Electoral Board, district courts in Amritsar, the Income Tax Office, and Stanford ad hoc assignments.

In time, Sharma joined Dr Y S Parmar University of Horticulture and Forestry, Nauni, Solan, as a stenographer on a regular basis. But his ambitions did not stop there.

“After joining the service, I continued upgrading my qualifications while working full-time,” he recalls.

While working full-time, he completed Plus Two, BA, MA in Hindi, LLB, and a PG Diploma in personnel management and labour from the University of Jammu. His dedication and sincerity eventually took him to the position of private secretary to the vice-chancellor.

After 36 years of service, he retired in August 2024 while working with the director of extension education.

It was a long, fulfilling career, but retirement brought unexpected emptiness.

Retirement, restlessness, and a search for purpose

Like many retirees, Sharma imagined retirement as a time for family. He has a daughter and a son, both well-qualified, married, and well settled, though they live in different cities.

“I thought I would spend time with my children, relatives, and my social circle, but within two months, I started feeling purposeless,” says Sharma.

A visit to his native village deepened the feeling. Sitting among retirees aged 65, 78, and even 88, Sharma felt his own mindset began to shift. “When I used to sit with 85-year-olds, I felt like I was also 85,” he admits. “So I thought, if I join somewhere, I will get an opportunity to understand myself along with the younger generation.”

In October 2024, he applied to several universities. And within a month and a half, Maharaja Agrasen University called back. Sharma joined as assistant registrar (administration) on 4 November 2024. 

For Sharma, saying yes was a way to give shape to his days again. Work offered structure, connection, and a reason to show up.

“After retirement, a person should not be purposeless,” he says. “Everyone should have a purpose, even if it is a social activity.”

Choosing hostel life at 60

When Gopal Krishna Sharma accepted the role at Maharaja Agrasen University, it set a quiet chain of decisions in motion. One of them surprised almost everyone around him.

He chose to live in the boys’ hostel.

At 60, it seemed unusual. But to Sharma, it felt instinctive. The idea carried him back to something he had once wanted but never quite reached. “I wanted to study further when I was younger, but due to financial circumstances, I could not continue,” he says. “Living in the hostel gave me back an opportunity I had once lost.”

Staying on campus placed him inside the everyday world of students. He saw their days unfold up close. Early mornings, shared meals, small stresses, casual conversations, and late nights became part of his own routine. Instead of observing student life from a distance, he began living within it.

His days follow a steady rhythm. He wakes up at 6 am, goes for a morning walk, gets ready, eats breakfast at the mess, and then heads to his office. The routine brings structure to his time and keeps his mind engaged.

As assistant registrar (administration), Sharma manages academic correspondence, regulatory work, and student documentation. Over time, students began noticing the care and order he brought to the office.

“When students come for certificates or official letters, they appreciate the discipline and organisation with which work is done,” he says. “They often tell me that such systems and sincerity are very important for any institution.”

Yet his presence on campus extends beyond official work. Living among students has meant adjusting in small, everyday ways. He listens closely to how they speak, how they relate to one another, and how they see the world.

“The way they talk, the way they interact, I learn a lot from them,” he says.

Writing, something he has always loved, became a natural point of connection. Sharma has written articles for The Tribune and The Hindu. He mentions this to students not as a credential, but as reassurance that writing grows through patience and practice.

Students often approach him for help with clarity, discipline, and structure in their writing. His guidance is practical and grounded, shaped by years of routine rather than theory.

Learning, however, does not move in one direction.

From fitness habits to shifting social norms, Sharma watches, listens, and adapts. Seeing students exercise together, share meals, or debate ideas has gently reshaped how he thinks about ageing.

In the hostel corridors and along campus paths, Sharma does not try to become younger, nor does he withdraw into the past. He has found a comfortable middle ground — one where he continues to learn, shares what he knows, and shows, through daily presence, that growth and purpose can remain part of life at any age.

From awkward distance to everyday connection

When Gopal Krishna Sharma moved into the boys’ hostel, he didn’t just gain a place to stay; instead, he entered a shared rhythm of life shaped by early mornings, late-night chatter, fitness routines, and everyday conversations that slowly turned strangers into companions.

For many students, the first reaction was hesitation.

One of them was Shubham Chandel (27), a master’s student in basic sciences, currently in his third year at the university. He remembers clearly how unsure he felt when he first noticed Sharma on campus in 2025.

“At that time, I thought it would be difficult to talk to him,” he admits. The age gap felt intimidating at first. Someone who had already lived through decades of work, responsibility, and retirement didn’t seem like an easy person to approach.

 But that distance began to dissolve in the most ordinary of places — the canteen, hostel corridors, and morning walk routes.

Their first real interaction happened near the hostel, early in the day. Sharma was already up, heading out for exercise. “He gets up early and goes for exercise,” Shubham recalls. “His way of offering solutions was worth learning from, because our generation is still learning how to deal with new problems.”

What surprised students most was not Sharma’s authority or experience, but his curiosity. 

“He used to ask about our personal issues and what troubled us, and he would try to offer solutions. That made me feel very comfortable,” Shubham adds. In his conversations, Sharma spoke about travel, nearby temples, fitness, routines, and life beyond academics, which helped students see him as someone easy to approach and genuinely interested in their lives.

For Rahul Chandal (30), another student who did his MTech in civil engineering at the university, shared similar feelings. When he first learnt that Sharma was living in the boys’ hostel, he was genuinely surprised.

“I was thinking — how can someone of his age stay in a boys’ hostel?” he admits.

Hostels have their own rhythm. Nights stretch late. Music drifts through corridors. Conversations spill out of rooms and linger longer than planned. It is a space shaped by energy and unpredictability.

Sharma stepped into this world without trying to control it. He kept his routine. He kept his manner. And he let the rest be.

For students, that balance stood out. He followed his own discipline without passing judgement on theirs. Over time, that steadiness made it easier to be around him.

The connection grew stronger during morning walks. In the park, students would exercise together while Sharma walked nearby, watching with interest. Rahul remembers noticing his curiosity more than anything else.

“He said, ‘What you are doing, I want to do the same,’” Rahul recalls. “He asked me to guide him through the exercises I was doing and actually tried them himself. I was amazed by his energy.”

What began as a shared walk slowly turned into a longer conversation. They spoke about life, writing, and experience. Sharma talked about his own journey, the articles he had written, and his belief that learning continues as long as curiosity stays alive. “As they say, age is just a number,” Rahul says. “When you are determined, age no longer matters.”

His writing left a particular impression. When Sharma spoke about articles he had written, even one centred on something as ordinary as a pen, students began to see how meaning could be drawn from everyday details.

It stayed with them. Not as advice, but as a way of looking at the world more closely.

Over time, Sharma’s presence began to change how students thought about ageing and retirement. “Normally, when someone retires, they sit at home,” Shubham says. “But after seeing him, I realised retirement should not be neglected. A retired person can still contribute.”

What stayed with students most was not just Sharma’s years of experience, but the way he carried himself every day. His discipline. His consistency. His willingness to adjust. His attention to health, both physical and mental.

These were not lessons delivered in words. They unfolded slowly, through routine, presence, and the example he set without asking for attention.

Finding meaning, one day at a time

For Sharma, usefulness today means movement, both mental and physical. Through working, fitness activities and interacting with young minds, he has found renewed purpose and fulfilment.

“The knowledge we have gained must be passed on; knowledge increases when it is shared. If you get an opportunity after retirement, take it. There are so many possibilities waiting.” Sharma shares. 

In the campus garden, as students laugh nearby and files await his attention, Sharma doesn’t look like a man who has stepped away from life. He looks like someone who has stepped into it once again. 

In doing so, he proves that age does not close doors. It just changes where we find them.

All images courtesy Gopal Krishna Sharma