Jaspreet looks vacantly out of the window. Its late morning in Delhi - rains finished recently, and have left the streets muddy. The street is empty, except for a stray dog lapping up water in a puddle. The vendors hawking vegetables are gone by now, and so is her maid, after cleaning her sparse flat and making her lunch. She idly looks at the phone, and thinks of calling her daughter in Mumbai - but its office time, and she might be busy in a meeting. Its too late to call Dallas, where her son lives with his family. Her gaze slips to the photo of her husband, who died two years ago - even though they were not madly in love after 35 years of marriage, they had a comfortable understanding, and she could talk to him about her daily life. She glances out of the window one last time, and reaches for the TV remote...
On the other side of the world, in Salt Lake City, UT, Devenbhai switches off the small TV set in his room with a sigh. Kalpesh, his son, is late again. He had taken his wife for dinner at a friend's house, and asked Devenbhai to watch their son, who had fallen asleep playing with his Nintendo. Devenbhai thinks of his native Ahmedabad, and how he would be out taking an after-dinner walk with his friends at this time. But here in Salt Lake City, with no driving skills, he was confined to this small house, and dependent on his son for the smallest outing. He stretches on the sofa/daybed, and closes his eyes...still dreaming of Ahmedabad...
Fiction? Perhaps, but its true more often than you think. The above situations highlight the other side of the NRI experience - the human factor.
More and more parents in India find themselves in an "empty nest" situation - not only in major cities, but also in villages. A recent article in The Toronto Star talks about the situation in quite a few villages in Punjab, where all the young men have gone to work abroad, leaving behind empty houses..."Left behind are villages bereft of an entire generation of young men, villages where women now fear walking the streets at night because they don’t have male protection, and where seniors fend for themselves in large mansions, hoping to see their children once more before they die..."
On the other side in the US, according to a recent article, "Since 1990, the number of foreign-born people over 65 has grown from 2.7 million to 4.3 million — or about 11 per cent of the country’s recently arrived immigrants. Their ranks are expected to swell to 16 million by 2050. In California, one in nearly three seniors is now foreign born, according to a 2007 census survey". If the parents end up going abroad, unless there is a good support structure, they get sidelined with the daily working pressures, depending on their children and their spouses for help.
So what is the NRI to do? Live with the guilt and constant dread if the parent(s) are alone in India, or try to get them to live with his/her family? Old age homes? Dedicated Indian senior living communities in North America? Weekend Temple visits and Satsangs? There is no easy answer, and no cookie-cutter solution.
The key thing, however, is community and support structure. We at Tribe Desi are big proponents of solutions for issues facing NRIs - be it aging parents or abused spouses. We continue to publicize issues facing NRIs, and pertinent organizations who can help. Join us, and let us know how we can make it easier for our parents...
