Amitabh Bachchan surpassed even himself in Piku, with a performance around totally ludicrous, even mad situations. But even as you laugh out loud, there’s this very real and thought-provoking reflection presented to you of the “senior citizens” in our times, along with the bewildering predicament of the children in whose care they are.
Those who are cared for are, of course, the lucky ones. There are enough others having to fend for their own lone selves however best they can, even as they head towards the sunset of their lives. It’s no longer the same environment, familiar and comforting, that’s been their space for generations.
Many sons and daughters make living and matrimonial choices across continents, or are emotionally and spatially too remote in their own nuclear setups.
On a recent visit to Denmark, I took a city tour. The guide on the coach was a rather elderly gentleman. As I struck up a conversation with him at a longish refreshments stop, I realised that he was well past retirement age and a lone widower. But he brushed aside sympathy. He was working because he liked meeting people and showing off his beloved Denmark.
The state has high taxation but no one minds paying. Students get stipends. There is healthcare and when you retire, the state gives you a little flat in a commune with the necessary facilities.
You needn’t be lonely and there’s even a retirement stipend. The children, freed from gnawing anxiety, are not uncaring but simply guilt-free and able to pursue their own lives.
The beautiful countryside, the clean cold air and this conversation made India a very faraway place, almost not on the same globe as this utopia. In India, from toddlerhood to incapacitating old age, life is a series of heavy insecurities, too easily recognised to mention.
And the senior citizen is in a state of particular lacuna. Inflation is wiping away lifetimes of savings, medical care is costly, and doctors can turn out unscrupulous, if not unqualified enough to treat.
The average offspring, if he/she is not to be callous, is burdened with financial drain, moral guilt and compromises on his/her own family front. These issues cannot be easily cured, so they must be endured.
This particular piece is a salutation to the myriads of Pikus who unquestioningly care and even love their elders — with not even a shadow of self-pity or awareness of the sacrifices they go about making without fuss, in this business of responsibility for their elders.
Of the elders, there are also those who are simply, unemotionally, biding their time without any children to care for them. And their only aspiration is that they have the luck to board the same bus to the hereafter.
The writer is a columnist, designer and brand consultant. Mail her at nishajamvwal@gmail.com
