Empty Nesters

Article 3 of 5 - Unlacing the Cultural Labels Series

Every time I visit the local market during the daytime, I meet these golden ager males strolling around. They walk slowly, with a bag on their shoulders. They always smile as I cross them and are happy to talk. For, not many are willing to listen to their stories. They would take time picking, smelling, and choosing every single fruit/ vegetable. That’s their way of showering love and care. By ensuring a sacred personal touch to everything. Something that the following generation didn’t pick. We prefer milk and groceries delivered at the doorstep. Did you identify the disconnect?

The article explores the changing family dynamics in Indian society. Globalization and increasing individualism have shaken the foundations of the Indian civil/ community structure. With the ancient social design collapsing, thus emerges an affluent senior citizen class, all alone for the first time in life. Their children have left for better opportunities, a common story in Indian households. With no social security and old age homes still an uncommon concept, the first unprepared generation of empty nesters resides in Indian cities.

In these unforeseen circumstances, these oldsters try to stay relevant. ‘The Empty Nesters’ story is an attempt to weave the helplessness and agony of these ex-patriarchs and highlight their struggles.

Story – The Empty Nesters

I am Ramesh Babu, a seventy year old, retired government employee. This is my story. And the story begins in 1953, when I was born. We Indians used to boast of our big families and large hearts.

India was a young democracy back then. We had fewer means, yet there was positivity and happiness around. Everyone was upbeat regarding the future. I lived in a small town of Madanapalli with my family. One whole lane was dedicated to us. With six houses belonging to the same clan. I lived in one of the houses. I had four siblings, two elder brothers and two younger sisters. We were twenty one members together, with my father’s brothers also living in the same house. Thus, as a child, I never had friends. My cousins were my friends, as we would bathe in the nearby stream, pluck mangoes from the trees, and sleep under the night sky. In retrospect, it feels like another time. And it was!

My great grandmother, Amma, lived next door and was the matriarch of the whole clan. All the children were scared of her. During the festivals, the food was prepared only in one of the six houses, as decided by Amma. Everyone helped, and it was a celebration that no one can imagine today. Together, we were more than a hundred family members, with cousins and families encompassing four generations.

Let’s fast forward into the 1970s. Both my elder brothers moved to Visakhapatnam due to work opportunities. After my father’s death, I too moved with my mother, younger sisters, and our family servant to live with my brothers. Both my brothers had their own family by now. Thus, under the same roof, we were fifteen. This was a typical middle class family living together and caring for each other. For Indians, social security had always been family. Mine and my sister’s education and marriage became the responsibility of the two elder brothers. When I started earning, I too shared the family responsibilities with them.

In 1993, I turned forty. I had a family of my own, with a wife and two children. I had shifted to Delhi a decade ago, following my appointment in the Ministry, Government of India. One of my elder brothers had now moved to Cuttack. Both sisters were also married. My mother, our only shared responsibility, lived with one of us brothers. I was well settled and earned handsomely for a middle class man. Despite living in separate cities, we met the extended family during festivals. It was the directive of my mother, that we all celebrate at least one festival together. We honored her words. Festivals still had the celebratory flavor to it. Summer vacations too, were sought after. We three brothers visited Madanapalli, during the summer and tried to pass on the same experiences to our children. We were all still connected.

Connected, hmmm, the thought brought me to reality. I had ventured too far in the past. I am seventy now. I live in South Delhi with my 68 year old wife, Savita. Both my children are married. My son lives in the United States of America, and daughter is in Bangalore. We live in a bungalow, all alone.

For sixty years of my life, I was always surrounded by people. They were family, friends, colleagues etc. I worked all my life to meet the needs of my family. I tended to every need of my mother and siblings. I ensured my children received the best education. Today, I am a proud parent, with both the children excelling in their chosen fields.

I have everything that I wished for in life: successful children, financial security, and societal recognition, yet I am sad. In the last ten years, I have lost more than I have gained. My health has deteriorated, and I have lost three of my siblings. Today, I own a house—a haunted house lacking the hustle-bustle of life and a shrunken heart due to various diseases that have confiscated me. I miss playing with my grandchildren. I miss discussing world affairs with my son, as we used to. I miss my daughter’s sweet voice. I miss my childhood days. My wife often nags that I love living in the past. What future do I have, to look forward to?

My wife has to be taken to the hospital frequently for her treatment. I am unable to drive now. I can afford a driver; however, I prefer an Uber so that it can be tracked. In this big city, we cannot trust anyone. There have been numerous cases where older couples were murdered and robbed by their servants. Thus, despite the easy availability and affordability of house help, we do not have one. Today, I fear more. When I was young I had the energy and faith to conquer the world. Today, as my physical strength weakens, it becomes difficult to conquer a day. My wife’s health is deteriorating every day. I am not able to see her this way. What will I do if something happens to her? How will I live?

My children used to visit often, initially, but the visits have decreased with their own careers and their children’s responsibilities taking precedence. I always put a brave face in front of them. How can I tell them? The strong father they knew is no longer strong. How can I confess? With age taking its toll, their father is a weak man today. How can I ask for help? It will be selfish to say, “Come back; your father needs you”. I do not want to burden them.

I often thought of going back to Madanapalli, but the home I knew no more exists.

I am that banyan tree without roots.

I am a banyan tree with no one to give shade to.

I am the banyan tree with outdated wisdom.

I am that banyan tree, waiting for its fall.

In fact, I am not a banyan tree, I am just a faded memory,

A memory when we had smaller homes but bigger hearts,

A memory when everyone was there for everyone.

I am an empty nester,

With no one but a nest to haunt me.

*******

Is this the story of every golden ager? No, I met many oldies who were living life with jest and joy. The absence of children didn’t bother them. It can be attributed to their personalities and beliefs and partly because they had anticipated the change early, thus adjusting accordingly. Is every senior citizen living alone? The answer is, again, negative.

Having said that, the story ‘The Empty Nesters’ spotlights our parents’ generation that didn’t smell the change. They imagined enjoying the fag end of life with children, grandchildren, and extended families, just like the previous generations. They toiled all their lives, saving for the future. When the future arrived, no family was left to celebrate life.

Females over sixty have their involvement in the kitchen and can still be relevant at home. For the retired males, their children have outgrown them. They are no longer the charioteers and no more play pivotal roles in the family. The values that they nurtured throughout life, hold no value.

For example: These seniors believed in saving for the future. They always chose the secure way. On the other hand, we as a generation believe in living for today and, in the process, aren’t scared of pursuing the untrodden pathways. Can you spot the difference in both approaches? Can you think of any logical reason?

The baby boomers had to work hard to maintain a basic lifestyle. They had numerous responsibilities. Survival was the only option. But, for their children, essential amenities were easily available, they didn’t have to think of survival. They had the freedom to venture into the unknown. Because, it was their father, who never transplanted his responsibilities onto them.

One of the senior gentlemen I met disclosed that his son works in a band. In his own crude style, he said, “I have no idea what the hell he does? I don’t know what has gotten into him. This isn’t a stable job.” What he couldn’t comprehend was that his son was an artist and was following his passion. Another gentleman shared that his son, who lives in Dubai, informed him that he and his wife have decided not to have kids ever. These are direct blows to the middle class values that the parents have nurtured and honored throughout their lives.

Thus, the parents, now above sixty, and their offspring are at different tangents. Instead of sharing and discussing each other’s unique perspectives, they are aloof. The children still in their youth are able to sail through and often sail away. However, it is the older parents, and specifically the father, who struggle to sustain and find meaning to his life at this juncture. Having been on the hamster wheel since birth, first to study, then to find a job, marry, and have children. The sixty plus males were always shouldering responsibility as youth. They followed social norms religiously. And, in the process, didn’t care to live for themselves.

Unprepared, today, they do not know how to live for themselves. They never nurtured any hobbies. In fact, they are clueless about whether they have any inherent talent for anything. At times, they possess a rigid thought process that isn’t ready to break the mold of ancient beliefs and thoughts. Another reason for the disconnect with the next generation.

What they are facing today, we will face tomorrow. It is the cycle of life. Are we prepared? Is there any way out? I understand, change is life. My first instinct is to create a concentric social circle outside the inner circle of family. Humans are social beings. We constantly need people to interact, talk, love, and laugh.

Second, I realize life and relationships are dynamic, not static. Thus, while we all nurture our families, and love our loved ones. Alongside, we must nurture our own being and learn to live as well as love ourselves. So that if ever we are left alone at any stage of life, we have something to hold on to. And that something is within ourselves only: a hobby or a dream. It is independent of our outer circumstances as well as the availability of another human being. My mantra in life has always been to look for balance and to move with the cheese.

To all the golden agers of today, you are not alone. Open up to your children, or to any well intentioned human being in life. It can be a relative, a friend, or a neighbor. Seek help. The world’s not as scary as it might look.

We are in this together.

Be strong enough to stand alone,

Smart enough to know when you need help,

And brave enough to ask for it.

About the Author: Dr. Shruti Shankar Gaur describes herself as a nonplussed mother, a Luna to her Alpha, a passionate entrepreneur, a novice thinker, a hard-core dreamer, a scruffy poet, a true seeker, and an unusual sinner. She bares her soul in her blog: Pain & Bliss

Contact the author: https://linktr.ee/dr.shrutishankargaur