Senior citizens are no one’s babies

As lifestyles and values change, the elderly are left to fend for themselves

Amrita Nandy-Joshi Delhi

He did not want his name or details to be revealed for fear of more harassment at home. Nor did he want to meet me in his house, so we met in a park. In his polo shirt and expensive trainers, this 72-year-old owner of an 850 square, plush house in South Delhi said, “My children do not want me. They just want my house. They wish I die soon. I wish this too.” As if hoping to shift the blame from his children, he quickly added, “It is all because of the soaring property prices these days.” He and his rich septuagenarian friends meet at the park everyday. They walk and share stories of neglect by their children. Emotional support is often absent. Loneliness is a constant companion.

This gentleman is an exception among the 80 million elderly people in India today. The majority have meagre or no finances, with far more cruel and horrifying experiences. Better technology and healthcare — for those who have access to it — has increased life span. Yet, the challenges around elderly care have increased and will continue to be so. By 2026, the population of the aged in India is expected to touch 130 million. Our country is greying fast, but the key institution for elderly care — the family — is impaired and unprepared. The State, with a substantial role to play, has so far delivered tokenisms, or at best, inadequate services. The market, not surprisingly, is licking its lips at this section of 'consumers'. The elderly clearly are no one's babies.

The world around today's urban senior citizens has changed a lot. Decades ago, family trees resembled pyramids — more children per couple. With fewer children, the family tree looks like a beanpole. Today's families have more than a new look. They have new attitude. Cohabitation, deferred marriages and childbirth-norms are questioned and new perspectives adopted. The breadwinner/ home maker model of the family has been challenged, both in theory and practice. The sentimentalised nature of care — invested heavily in the mother and other female members — sits uneasy in double-income families, an economic powerhouse.

The focus today is entirely on individual financial success. Families are caught in the consumerist whirlpool created by market forces. In this scheme of things, only the productive individual matters; the rest make for dead investment and are consigned to the margins. Hectic lifestyles — full-time jobs with child care — have changed roles. The story-telling grannies from yesteryears have become full-time nannies. Instead of having care-givers for themselves, elders have become care-givers to grandchildren. Moral ties that once bound a family or community together have generally weakened.

Says a 73-year-old academician: “Ever since my son got married and started living separately, he turned his back on us — me and my 69-year-old wife. There is no financial or emotional support (occasional visits/phone calls) from him. My wife's cataract operation is being delayed. Even our intense desire to see our two grandchildren is snubbed. As time passes by, my own capacities — physical and mental — to run a household are on the decline. I wonder if parental care as a value can be further devalued than this.”

In rural India, millions of young leave their villages every year to join the workforce in cities. In reverse migration, many elderly leave the cities to retire in villages. In both cases, the senior citizens have to fend for themselves. Poverty and lack of medical aid makes things worse for village elders. The neglect and loneliness are common for the rural and urban elderly, but the similarity ends there.

The government's vision about elderly care has been too narrow. Ministries offer retired government servants minimal benefits in the form of pensions, some free health services and so on. Discounts for train and air travel are designed for and used by a certain class of the elderly. Sadly, this concession includes the poor senior tax-payers' money too and they have nothing to gain. Under the National Old Age Pension Scheme, “central assistance” of Rupees 75 per month is granted to destitute older persons above 65 years of age. As for the government-run old-age homes, there are very few in number, and always packed to capacity. Often, they are dilapidated and unhygienic. They provide uncomfortable shelter, medicines at over-crowded and unfriendly hospitals, and insipid and unhealthy food. The elders in these homes are left totally at the mercy of impersonal staff. The inmates are afraid to talk, much less complain. Gripped by illnesses and pain, loneliness and fear, they are suffering in silence.

As for the market, its solution is only aimed at senior citizens with purchasing power. Old-age homes are passé; retirement homes are in. Construction majors have built these in metros such as Delhi, Pune, Chennai and Bengaluru, and are on sale for a price upwards of Rupees 15 lakhs. Some luxurious retirement condominiums cost the earth— they even have swimming pools, massage parlours, internet facility and open-air theatres. The rooms have all the mod-cons one can think of — air-conditioning and flat-screen TVs. Who else but a minuscule minority of elite senior citizens can afford all this! 

Clearly, between the family, the State and the market, elderly care has no takers. No wonder they face abuse, which, unlike child abuse and domestic violence, is hidden both by the elderly and, of course, the family. We still have not realised the serious nature of this human, social and economic problem. Elders need physical, emotional and, in most cases, financial care. Some elders need more and specialized care — the lonely, the diseased, the senile, the disabled or the depressed. This has to be delivered in consonance with their dignity and self-respect. Who is going to do this and how?

The Western solution to the problem has looked away from filial responsibilities, stressing on the financial independence of the elderly. In Scandinavian and some European countries, old-age homes, pension, social security and health care are the State's responsibilities. In India, we need nothing less than radical measures to address the issue. The State needs to do far more. The private sector cannot wash its hands off such issues.

Economics needs to be feminised. We need a work-family balance to ease the financial and emotional pressures on families. Well-funded family leave schemes will allow people to take time off work to look after children or elderly parents. Tax incentives on crèches in the parent's workplace and flexible working arrangements will help. Initiatives for retention, re-training and re-integration of older workers in the economy could be given thought. Decent pensions, affordable health care and protection from predatory business practices form ideal support structures.

All said and done, the family continues to be the best anchor for personalised care for the elderly. The forthcoming Government of India's Maintenance and Welfare of Senior Citizens Bill states that children (legal or adopted, sons and daughters) have to support their parents through their old age, if they have the means to. Will it make a difference? According to Dr Mala Kapur Shankardass, Sociologist and Chairperson of Development, Welfare and Research Foundation (DWARF), a voluntary advocacy organisation for senior citizens, the bill will “only act as a deterrent for the young not to misbehave with the elders, but will be limited in scope to impact on better life for them”.

Time was when ageing was not perceived as a serious challenge. Families dealt with it as a natural responsibility. Alas, only if our new definition of success and growth included some good old values!

The writer is a consultant with the UN and runs Echo, an informal group that raises public awareness on social issues