Old Age Woes – Will You Have to Depend on the Kindness of Strangers...?

This evening – while on my evening walk – I remembered this story I had written almost 7 years ago in January 2012. 

Sadly – the protagonist of this story – Mrs. J – she passed away a few years ago. 

OLD AGE WOES
Do You Depend on the Kindness of Strangers...?
Musings of a Veteran 

By

VIKRAM KARVE 

Pune (Circa 2012) 

Sometime ago – during my early morning walk – I passed by Mrs. J’s house. 

I saw J – an 84 year old widow – struggling to walk in her garden. 

I wished J good morning – and I asked her how she was. 

She answered: 

“I depend on the kindness of strangers.”

For a moment – I was speechless. 

Then – slowly – I let her words sink in – and perambulate in my mind – “I depend on the kindness of strangers” – and – these words struck a chord. 

I was transported back in time – more than 37 years ago – to the year 1981 – if my memory serves me right – when I had seen the play called A STREETCAR NAMED DESIRE which had a lasting impression on me. 

I witnessed a performance of the indigenous Indian Production of this 1948 Pulitzer Prize winning masterpiece by Tennessee Williams at the Kamani Auditorium in New Delhi directed by Alyque Padamsee with terrific performances by Dalip Tahil as Stanley Kowalski and Sabira Merchant as Blanche DuBois. 

I still remember the heart-rending scene – when – after being totally destroyed by Stanley, while being taken away to a mental asylum, a shattered Blanche holds onto the doctor’s hand and says: 

“Whoever you are – I have always depended on the kindness of strangers”.

Though the context in the play is different – I realized the universal all-encompassing truth encapsulated in those profound words – which were spontaneously uttered by the old lady J – who I am sure has not read or seen the play “A Streetcar Named Desire”.

As I observe in Pune – I realize that there are so many senior citizens living alone – so many old people who “depend on the kindness of strangers” – especially in the middle-class. 

In most cases – their children live abroad in the USA pursuing their American Dream – while their parents live a life of loneliness awaiting their deaths back home in India. 

Also – I notice that the longevity of women seems to be more then men – since there are far more senior citizen widows who heavily outnumber the widowers.

Before you blame the “ungrateful and selfish children” for “abandoning” their “hapless” parents – I think you must consider the fact that there are always two sides to a coin (or two “points of view” in every story).

MIDDLE CLASS DREAMS

Let me give you a bit of a background.

In the 1960’s and 1970’s – I lived in a “middle-class” locality in Pune – where parents had two dreams:

1. First – their son must get into an IIT and go abroad to USA to realize the American dream and achieve “success”.

2. Second – they must get their daughters married to a “successful” American NRI so that she too could go the USA to live a life of prosperity and happiness there.

Many such parents – like the old lady J – achieved their dreams.

And – they are paying the price today.

Even today – I see so many parents who are desperate to send their kids abroad for higher studies and to settle down there. 

In the earlier “pre-globalization pre-liberalization” days prior to 1991 – it was difficult to go to America unless you graduated from an IIT or topped from a premier University. 

Today – it is much easier to go abroad for studies or for work. 

Post liberalization – in the globalized world of today – if you are willing to spend your money – you can easily go for higher studies abroad – or you can go there via the “IT Route” – by first going abroad to work onsite – and then sidestepping into a job over there in America.

This is the main reason why there is a beeline for jobs in the IT/ITES industry – it is the easiest way to migrate overseas.

Then or now – the fact of the matter is that it is the parents themselves who encourage and monetarily facilitate their children to go abroad.

Parents inculcate ambitious values that create in the minds of their children the urge to migrate to America or some other prosperous country for a “better life”.

So who is to blame – the parents or the children?

I ask the old lady “J” : 

“Why don’t you go and live with your son or daughter in America...? Have they refused to take you there...? Are your children unwilling to have you live with them...?”

“No – not at all. Far from it...” the old lady says, “my children want me to live with them over there and keep calling me to relocate permanently to America and stay with them in the US. I have gone there so many times – but I don’t want to live there with them in America. I don’t like it over there.”

I am puzzled. 

It seems very strange. 

Why should the old lady prefer to live a difficult lonely life out here in India – full of hardship – when she can live a comfortable life of luxury in America with the best of facilities and healthcare – and in the company of her children and grandchildren...?

Why do so many senior citizens prefer to live alone in India and depend on “the kindness of strangers” – when they can enjoy the evening of their lives by migrating abroad to live with their NRI children and exulting in the love and care of their near and dear ones...?

Is it ego? 

Is it something else? 

Is there some other reason?

I don’t know. 

I don’t have the answer. 

Do you?

If you do have the answer – or wish to share your views on this subject, please comment and let us know.

And – you better start thinking – about the evening of your life – when you become 70 or 80. 

In Old Age – you have to decide from these 3 Choices:

1. Do you want to live with your children...?

2. Do you want to live alone...? 

3. Do you want to live in an old age home (retirement community) which has assisted living facilities and where you will be well cared for and looked after...?

Remember – if you choose the second or third choice above – you will be dependent on the kindness of strangers.

Think about it.

VIKRAM KARVE

Copyright © Vikram Karve 
1. If you share this post, please give due credit to the author Vikram Karve
2. Please DO NOT PLAGIARIZE. Please DO NOT Cut/Copy/Paste this post
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Disclaimer:

1. This article is just “food for thought”, my musings, no offence is meant to anyone, so take it with a pinch of salt.

2. While planning your old age – please do your own due diligence. 

3. All stories in this blog are a work of fiction. Events, Places, Settings and Incidents narrated in the story are a figment of my imagination. The characters do not exist and are purely imaginary. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Copyright Notice:

No part of this Blog may be reproduced or utilized in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical including photocopying or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the Blog Author Vikram Karve who holds the copyright.

Copyright © Vikram Karve (All Rights Reserved)

     

© vikram karve., all rights reserved.

 

Metamorphosis at Sunset – A Story for Republic Day

METAMORPHOSIS AT SUNSET

Short Fiction - A STORY FOR REPUBLIC DAY 

By

VIKRAM KARVE

From my Creative Writing Archives:

Here is a fiction short story I wrote many years ago on Republic Day... 

METAMORPHOSIS AT SUNSET – Story by Vikram Karve

"How was your day?" she asks.

"Terrible," he says.

"Terrible?" 

"Everything is rotten out here! This country is going to the dogs because of this bloody corruption! They must do something about it."

"They? What 'they'? Who is this 'they'...?"

"I don't know. And I don't care, because I am getting out of here once and for all."

"Sanjiv, come on, how can you be so sure things are better out there? At least here, in our country, we are treated properly."

"Treated properly? My foot! Only the corrupt and powerful, the rich and wealthy, are having a ball. If you're honest, life is hell. They treat you like dirt. But one thing is sure. Once I'm an NRI, I'll be treated better. Look at way they pamper these NRI and expat chaps - they get all the top jobs, the dough, the recognition, the honors. It is pathetic, the way we put them on a pedestal - they enjoy best of both worlds and we even bestow them with all sorts of accolades and awards!"

"What rubbish!"

"Rubbish? Here, look at the newspaper. Just count the the number of NRI and PIO names in the Republic Day Awards List...!!!"

(NB: In the year I wrote this story – a number of NRIs/PIOs/OCIs had got Republic Day Awards)

"These NRIs and PIOs – they must have done something for the country..." she says. 

"Oh, yeah...!!! Sure. They have done something for the country. But which country...? Have they done anything for us...?" he says. 

"What do you mean?"

"All they've done is make money for the foreign company they work for over there – and earned money and glory for themselves."

"So what is wrong with that...? If they India is awarding them – they may have done something ..."

"Done something...? Of course these NRIs and PIOs may have done something for the country they live in – for America – or for England – or wherever they live. But what have they done for India...?"

"Come on – don't be so bitter."

"Bitter? Why should I not be bitter. We pamper those who leave the country and go abroad – and we ignore the poor guys who stay behind to serve the country. It is very funny – and very sad. This country values "Non Resident Indians" but doesn't care a damn for its very own "Resident Indians" – it seems we still haven't got over the "Colonial Raj" hangover."

"Just forget all this Sanjiv and think positively. You've got a chance to stay here and do something, haven't you? Sanjiv. Don't go. Please!"

"Don't go? Please? Come on, Nalini. What's wrong with you? Why the hell should I stay here?"

"The IAS is the best thing in the world." 

"Oh yeah! Tell me. What's so great about rotting away in some back-of-the-beyond town in the moffusil – places whose names you only hear only on Vividh Bharati..."

"Come off it – it's not all that bad."

"And the bloody grovelling and kowtowing the powers that be all your life?"

"The pay, the perks. "

"Pay, Perks? What are you talking about? I've told you about the mind-boggling amount I'm going to get out there, haven't I? What I will get here is peanuts compared to what I will earn there."

"So it's Seattle – not Mussoorie?"

"Yes. It's final. I've nothing left here now."

"Nothing?" tears start to well up in her eyes.

He puts his arms around her and says: "Please Nalini don't make it difficult for me."

"I'm thirsty. Come – let's have some chilled milk."

   

Hand in hand, the man and the woman cross Marine Drive, and amble to the Jai Jawan Stall, and order some chilled milk.

Suddenly a policeman arrives, bangs his lathi on the counter and shouts rudely at the old man inside the stall: "Abe Saale – Hafta kyon nahi deta...?"

"I am a war veteran disabled soldier..." the Jawan says proudly stamping his crutch on the ground in anger, "I lost my leg in combat, serving the nation".

"So what...? Just pay up, you one-legged cripple – or I'll shove that crutch up your... "

Something suddenly snaps inside Sanjiv – and he is filled with a terrible rage.

Sanjiv suddenly turns, catches the cop's collar, shoves him roughly, and shouts: "You just get out."

  

The stunned cop slowly recovers, he talks on his cell phone – and within seconds – a police jeep appears – and they are all whisked away to the police station.

"Saale..." the inspector says menacingly, "assaulting a policeman on duty... "

"Sir..." a constable interrupts, "we found this in his pocket."

The constable hands over a paper to the inspector.

The inspector reads it – he looks at Sanjiv – and he goes inside to his superior's office. 

They discuss and reach a conclusion. 

There is no point taking punga with IAS types – even if he is just going to be a probationer. 

The inspector comes out and looks at Sanjiv. 

"You are going to be IAS. You shouldn't do these things..." the inspector says politely to Sanjiv. 

There is a total metamorphosis in tye inspector's demeanor. 

Then the inspector sends his jeep to drop them back at the Jai Jawan Stall on Marine Drive.

"Thank you, Sahab. We need young people like you to sort things out..." the disabled soldier at the Jai Jawan says gratefully, as they sip the deliciously soothing chilled milk.

"Hey, let's watch sunset..." Nalini says.

They cross Marine Drive, run to the parapet and watch the breathtakingly beautiful spectacle as the tranquil blue sea begins to swallow the orange ball and the crimson rays dancing in the sky slowly dissolve into twilight.

"Your last sunset in India, isn't it...?" she says, tears in her eyes.

He takes her in his arms, and they kiss, slow and prolonged, as if it were their first and last kiss.

And when it is finally over, Sanjiv looks into Nalini's eyes and says: 

"Nalini, I am not going there. I have decided to stay here – where I belong. I am going join the IAS and do something for my country and my people."

"Really...? Why...? What happened...?" Nalini exults in incredulous delight.

Sanjiv does not answer. 

He looks into Nalini's eyes.

Then he tenderly puts his arm around her and together they watch the awesome metamorphosis at sunset. 

VIKRAM KARVE

Copyright © Vikram Karve 
1. If you share this post, please give due credit to the author Vikram Karve
2. Please DO NOT PLAGIARIZE. Please DO NOT Cut/Copy/Paste this post
© vikram karve., all rights reserved.

Disclaimer:

1. This story is a fictional spoof, pure fiction, just for fun and humor, no offence is meant to anyone, so take it with a pinch of salt and have a laugh.

2. This story is a work of fiction. All stories in this blog are a work of fiction. Events, Places, Settings and Incidents narrated in the stories are a figment of my imagination. The characters do not exist and are purely imaginary. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Copyright Notice:

No part of this Blog may be reproduced or utilized in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical including photocopying or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the Blog Author Vikram Karve who holds the copyright.

Copyright © Vikram Karve (all rights reserved)

© vikram karve., all rights reserved.

 

This story was first written by me Vikram Karve many years ago and and posted online by me earlier in my Blogs a number of times inlcuding at urls: http://karvediat.blogspot.in/2012/01/republic-day-story-metamorphosis-at.html and http://karvediat.blogspot.in/2013/01/a-story-for-republic-day-metamorphosis.html  and http://karvediat.blogspot.in/2014/01/metamorphosis-at-sunset-on-eve-of.html etc