The old man
rings the doorbell and waits for a few seconds – by the force of habit of four
decades. He sighs, reaches into his trouser pocket, produces a latchkey, and
opens the main door.
Silent solitude salutes
him, instantly.
He steps inside,
shuts the door behind him, and walks into the stunning, palpable loneliness.
***
At sixty, the
retirement age of Indian Central Government Services, he is old, and just retired; it is his last working day. He is
yearning to talk to someone. He must unburden the chaos of mixed emotions
wreaked by the solemn and life-altering moment. He cannot talk to his soul mate
since she passed away some time ago.
He sits in front
of the TV with a cup of instant coffee – filter-brewed decoction is a thing of
the past, gone with his soul mate.
Finishing his
cup of coffee, he contemplates calling his son in London. Missing his
ever-attentive wife and yearning to speak to someone about the profound moment
of his life, he dials his son’s number. He lets the phone ring twice and
replaces the handset on the base…
…and waits for
his son to call him.
***
The landline
rings gently.
He picks up and
says, “Hello.”
“Dad, you
called?”
It is his son in
London. The matter-of-factness of the tone and the greeting are upsetting.
No, ‘Hi, dad,’ or ‘How are you, dad?’
“I have retired,
today, son. Had your mom been here…”
“Oh, congrats,
dad, you can now put up your feet and enjoy life.”
“Your mom…”
“Dad…dad…I’m going
home; can’t talk while driving; will try and call in the night. Bye.”
“Bye,” but the
call is already terminated.
He sighs.
***
“Hello, dad.”
It is his
daughter in Mumbai.
“Yeah. Listen …”
“Make it quick,
dad. I’ve got guests coming for dinner; I’m in the middle of cooking now; I am
tensed …”
“I am ‘tense’ not ‘tensed’ …”
“Oh God, dad,
now, of all times!”
“Today was my
last working day; I’ve retired. Had your mom been here …”
“Congrats, dad.
Now you can enjoy your life; don’t have to run anywhere …”
“I need to talk
to someone…”
“Call, bhayya, dad. I’ll call in the night.
Okay? Bye, I love you, dad.”
Tears well in
his eyes as the line goes dead.
***
This is the
typical scenario of a typical old retiree. He is retired. He has lost his soul
mate. He is lonely. He seeks the solace of a few kind words from his family,
what is left of it.
Life has
changed. The essence of the term ‘family’ has changed, almost unrecognisably,
from the ‘undivided family’ or ‘joint family’ of yore. It has gone ‘nuclear’
now.
Life was easy;
living was easy in a joint family, both for the old and young. Not just
monetary and material resources, responsibilities and emotions were shared,
too, a sort of ’all for one and one for
all’ scenario.
Sons with their
spouses lived with parents, grandparents, and other elders. The children and
grandchildren would never run out of emotional security and support of the
elders, the gentle imparting of familial and cultural values by grandparents,
the knowledge-building efforts by the uncles and aunts.
The elderly were
in caring company of their children and grandchildren. There would always be
someone seeking their advice, drawing from the wealth of their experience,
wanting to talk to them. They were never alone, in happiness or sorrow.
Simply, if one had a problem, one was not alone.
All this seems
to be a thing of the past. The joint family concept is gone, forever, except
for a few pockets in our country.
Nonetheless, must
it become an excuse for insouciant
indifference? I have strong feelings on this issue.
Indelibly etched
on my heart and soul are the struggle my mother, widowed in the 1950s,
underwent in bringing up my younger brother (who has since died) and me. Personally
devastated, emotionally shattered, and financially precarious, she still found
courage from the inner most recesses of her persona to guide us through the
toughest phase of our lives. That being the case, it was binding upon me to
care for her in every possible way when I ‘settled’ in my life and I did.
***
Every generation
runs a relay race called ‘life’, receiving the baton of responsibility from the
previous generation and, later, handing the baton to the next.
What do our
elders need - wealth, property, automobiles, or trinkets?
No.
Attention. Caring words. Compassion. Understanding. Wee
bit time.
Same needs as
those of their offspring, which they selflessly fulfilled attentively,
caringly, compassionately, and understandingly.
Same security as
what they provided to their offspring.
Lack of
understanding of this sensitive aspect wreaks havoc with lives of the elderly
leaving them to feel unwanted and uncared for.
Elders of the
family, just like the children, need to be reassured that their children and
grandchildren need them, want them, that they are not yesterday’s newspapers,
that they play an important role in family affairs.
This must be
done in all sincerity, not sham.
Children must
realise the importance of elders. Parents and grandparents are needed not just
when things go wrong. Their role is not that of babysitters or housekeepers.
They render all these succours willingly and, in return, expect nothing but a
kind word, a wee bit of attention. They are still entities with feelings,
sensitivities, mood swings, in fact, the whole gamut of emotions.
They are the
entities who moulded their children’s lives. They selflessly sacrificed so that
their children could have a life.
They ungrudgingly gave up on sleep to comfort a crying newborn. They
unconditionally tended their offspring oblivious to their own frail health.
It is an emotive
issue and one needs to handle it with utmost sensitivity.
There is something
profound, pregnant, and poignant about it.
There is something Indian about it!
Let’s cherish
it.
One needs to give happiness in order to find happiness
oneself.
***
(To be continued in
OLD AGE and LONELINESS – II)
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