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My mother waits for a son who only wants her money

My brother calls my parents only to ask when they are selling their house. Otherwise, he’s not in touch with them.
by A Concerned Sister

I have always been proud of my brother. He was always the smart one in the family, he always got the high grades and did well in sports, too. Growing up, he was everything a girl asks for in a brother – he was protective of me, he would help me with my studies, rat me out if I got into a mischief and then defend me if my parents scolded me…he was an excellent older brother. His biggest ambition was to go abroad and settle there.

Then one day he got his wish: he got a job in the UK. And slowly he forgot all of us.

It started gradually. His phone calls tapered off. He was never one to keep in touch, so it seemed normal. My mother would keep calling him, and he would answer probably one of 20 calls. Then he would tell her he would call when he was free, that there was too much work at the office (he is a systems analyst). When the call would come, it would be perfunctionary. My mother would be hurt and puzzled, but she would still call him the next day. I explained that international calls were expensive, maybe that was the reason…she was quick to understand, as all mothers are.

But his contact with me was also tapering off. He would reply with a quick ‘Ha ha’ if I texted him a joke. He never texted anything himself. When I would ask him when he would visit India, he would reply that it was too soon yet.

One day he called me to say he was getting married. He had already told my parents that he was in need of money. Now he asked my mother, ‘Why don’t you sell the house in Pune?’ My parents had purchased the property many years ago as a retirement home. My mother told him that she and my father would be moving to Pune in a few years. “What for?” My brother said. “You are used to living in Mumbai, how can you live anywhere else? You should sell the house.”

He further added that the house proceeds could be deposited in his account. He reasoned that my parents had no other sons, so there was no question of giving the property to anyone else. My mother had to remind him that he still had a sister. For a long time, he could not understand why my parents would leave anything for me.

Then he called my father and made the same demand. Sell the house, send me the money, I need it urgently, I am getting married, I need to buy a house here…He had been living in with a Portuguese woman and they were tying the knot in three months. When my father said that selling the house was impossible, he snapped, “Fine. Don’t help me. I will figure out what to do.”

He has not been in touch with us since.

My mother is desperate to see him. It has been over four years since he moved to the UK, and he has never come here. When she broached the subject last, he was angry. “You people don’t know how expensive it is here,” he told her. “I cannot even afford to send you flight tickets!” When she said we would pay for our tickets, he was even more angry. “There’s no need for that. Later you will tell everybody that I didn’t even send you tickets,” he said.

As always, my mother understands. But she is hurt that he is not answering her calls. Louella says he is going to Geneva on a six-month assignment later this year – he has not informed us. My mother requested her to make a short visit here during Diwali, and she has said she will ask her husband. There has been no reply on that either.

I wonder when my brother drifted apart from all of us. When he began to give preference to career and money over his own family. I am getting married early next year so I invited my brother and Louella. She sent her best wishes. I worry about my parents. My father is stoic enough for both of them, but my mother waits and waits for a call from distant shores. The call never comes. If it does, it is from Louella. My brother is not on social media, so there is no way to contact him there.

My mother is now worried that she will never be able to see her grandchildren, that her own son might not even inform her that he has a child. I fear that he will deeply regret his actions when my parents are gone. He is too caught up in making money, and my parents’ refusal to sell their Pune house has blinded him to the many things they have done for him. But later, he will feel remorse about giving preference to money over parents.

I am baffled by his behaviour. If he is worried about something, he should share it. If any of us has offended him, he should share that also. This continuous silence is hurtful. Why does he not realise that my parents need to keep in touch with him, even if he doesn’t feel that need? I seem to have lost my older brother. It breaks my heart to know that my parents are losing their son.

‘Grey Space’ is a weekly column on senior citizen issues. If you have an anecdote or legal information, or anything you feel is useful to senior citizens, caregives and the society at large, feel free to get it published in this space. Write to editor@themetrognome.in or on Facebook at www.facebook.com/Themetrognome.in and we will publish your account.

(Picture courtesy dreamstime.com. Image is used for representational purpose only)

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My son doesn’t want me to marry again

Hirendra Sampat is 64, divorced and wants to get married. But his son doesn’t approve. What is to be done?
As told to Vrushali Lad

He says he is ’embarassed’ that I am thinking of ‘such horrible things’ at my age. He says he will leave me and never come back to check on me if I insist on doing what I wish to do. Even my daughter-in-law has been giving me strange looks for a few days now. They think I am being perverted, obscene.

I want to get married.

My wife and I parted ways after 15 years of marriage. We parted amicably – a few months after we were married, she told me that she had been in love with somebody else. I had been, too. My parents had opposed my affair with a girl from college. So in that sense, both my wife and I were in the same boat. We were married to each other because our parents wished it so. But though we were never completely happy with each other, we were never cold or cruel to each other. She managed the home well, I earned enough money for our family. We had a son after two years of marriage.

Then one day she decided to separate from me. I did not stop her. I think my son holds that against me, that I allowed the divorce to go through. Though I got custody of my son, I never stopped my wife from visiting us often, she was even welcome to come and stay whenever she felt like it. She now lives in Bangalore with her sister.

In the last two years, I met a lady at the local library where I have been a member for over 20 years. I had never seen her before, though I learnt later that she was also a member for many years. She and I were looking for a copy of the same book that had not yet been returned. We started talking to each other, exchanging notes on the books we had come to return that day. I asked her when she came to the library, she said, ‘Every Monday, if possible’. The next Monday I went to the library again. And every Monday after that.

She is a wonderful person – outgoing, warm, unattached. We share a common love for books and gardening. I want to get married to her, so I proposed and she said yes. But when I told my son this, all hell broke loose at home.

“How can you think of all these things at your age?” he asked. “Everybody will laugh. Are you so young that you think you will get married at this age?” He is disgusted that I am thinking of having sex at my age and bringing a woman into the house.

It has been three months since I told him about my plans. My fiancee says, “Be patient. He will come around.” I worry that he won’t. His life is set with a wife and small child. It does not occur to him that I need a companion, too.

‘Grey Space’ is a weekly column on senior citizen issues. If you have an anecdote or leagl information, or anything you feel is useful to senior citizens, caregives and the society at large, feel free to get it published in this space. Write to editor@themetrognome.in or on Facebook at www.facebook.com/Themetrognome.in and we will publish your account.

(Picture courtesy www.oratechsolve.com. Image is used for representational purpose only)

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Why I refused to take care of my grandkids

Mandakini Mashelkar refused to become a full time babysitter for her grandchildren. What caused this refusal? This is her story.
As told to Reyna Mathur

Everyone says that as parents, we must do everything to protect our children. In India, we go to extreme lengths to ensure that our children are happy. Even when they grow up, we run to assist them and make their life easier. I was one of those parents, too.

My husband and I ran a garment business together in Pune, and we shifted to Mumbai in 1996. Since then, we settled into our life in the city fairly quickly. Ever since we had our two children – my sons Sangram and Sanket – we had been focussed on giving them the best life ever. And we did. Our sons grew up to become engineers, and both of them got jobs in US-based companies. It was just a matter of time before they went to work abroad. Five years ago, my younger son went to the UK with his wife, and a year later, Sangram went to Germany with his fiancee.

Two years ago, my husband and I went to Germany when Sangram’s wife, Maitri, gave birth to their son. We stayed there for four months to assist them while they took care of their baby. We had just returned home after this visit that Sanket asked us to come to the UK because his wife, Sonali was pregnant. On hearing this, my husband became silent.

A few days later, I asked him, “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t want to go,” he said.

“But they need our help!” I protested.

“I don’t want to go,” he repeated stubbornly.

A little digging revealed that he was uncomfortable doing ‘babysitting duties’ for our sons. As he spoke, I realised that what he was saying was true. Our trip to Germany had exhausted us. At our age, it was very difficult to care for an infant. While we were there, Sangram’s mother-in-law had also dropped in and she was to stay for six months. We were to go at the end of this period. “We can’t keep doing this,” my husband reasoned. “First Sangram’s baby, then Sanket’s baby. We can’t keep shuttling between countries like this.”

The mother in me protested against the wife in me – my sons needed our help while they took care of their young children and their jobs. But then my husband said the most important thing: “Whom did we call when we had our sons? You were managing our business with young sons in your lap. We did it. Our children will, too.”

When I told Sanket that we would not be coming, he was furious. He demanded to know why we could not help him after helping his brother. I explained gently that we would visit occasionally, but only for a few days. Staying at their homes, with nothing to do apart from taking care of the baby, came with its own problems: we did not have a car at our disposal, so we had to wait for our sons to come home and take us out. There was ample free time but nothing to do.

Both my sons were upset for a while. But my husband and I remained resolute. We will visit them both next year and stay for only a couple of weeks. In the meantime, we have travelled to five places in India and both of us have joined a gym. You could say that in our retirement years, my husband and I have a greater bonding and we are rediscovering our love for each other. Keeping active and living within our means has given us a good quality of life in our senior years.

My friends and our relatives think we are being selfish in not helping our children. I think we have already done enough for them. It is now our time to enjoy our retirement years.

Mandakini Mashelkar loves to cook, read and play chess. She lives in Thane with her husband, Anant. 

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(Picture courtesy www.sereneretirement.com. Image used for representational purpose only)

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Living and loving Mumbai and India

Robin Reister writes about how Indians view the concept of medicine, and how the idea of gratitude supersedes everything else.
Robin Reister

Part II

In Part I published yesterday, medical student Robin Reister had described her impressions of India.

I think the greatest benefit of students’ involvement in global health is the impact it has on the student herself. I would not be the person or doctor that I am if it wasn’t for my community service and global health experiences. My experience in India humbled me and took my breath away several times.

I noticed that people were not getting the primary care they needed. Indians would rather treat themselves at home, with naturopathic or Ayurvedic medicine or an antibiotic they picked up at a pharmacy without a prescription, than go to a doctor.

 

The family that I stayed with told me that instead of selling their printing company, they just gave it to their employers as a sign of gratitude for years of hard work. Both NGOs I worked with (Nightingale Trust, Bangalore and Silver Innings Foundation, Mumbai) were started by individuals who used a variety of self-funding for years to keep them alive. The fact that everything seems to work out so well in the face of so much constant chaos in India, I can only attribute to the amazing way everyone is constantly helping their fellow man. As my rotation had a large focus on human rights, I think this observation of hospitality, selflessness, and charity made the largest impression on me.

When I explored the Indian people’s perception of health care in their country, I was surprised at how little people complained, which was much less than I feel we do here in America. I found myself looking for problems, asking leading questions to get to the bottom of it. What I found is that most people say they get medical care when they need it, and at not too high of a cost. Very few people have insurance, and there is no Medicaid or Medicare equivalent for the destitute and elderly.

However, with the lower cost of health care due partly to the lack of insurance companies, most people get what they need.  I asked, “What if you get cancer?  What if you have diabetes? What if you’re the poorest of the poor?” Most of the responses were basically that if you have chronic diseases there are schemes available to help, and that there are good Government hospitals that are free to the poor.

But when I got to the bottom of it, I noticed that people were not getting the primary care they needed. Indians would rather treat themselves at home, with naturopathic or Ayurvedic medicine or an antibiotic they picked up at a pharmacy without a prescription, than go to a doctor. With this pattern comes many late presentations of disease. This problem is sure to get worse with the increasing levels of diabetes, and this does not seem to be being addressed as of now.

Having soaked in the sights, sounds, smells, and tastes of a country as large and busy as India gives me a great perspective on the rest of the world.  Almost 1/6th of the world’s people are on the subcontinent, and I have gained confidence after living how that huge chunk of the world lives. Like any time I leave the USA, I am reminded of the incredible luxuries that we have here. Potable water, roads that aren’t littered with garbage, potholes, cows, and unbelievably bad traffic, and decent access to health care.

Also, my freedom as a woman and as an American are something I take for granted. I was disappointed to see women in India not usually being treated as equals, and I constantly heard about the corruption of the Government with attitudes of hopelessness to change. But I will never forget the kindness and incredible selflessness I witnessed by my mentors, my hosts, and even strangers in India. Also there is great beauty in everything in India, from the temples, the delicious food, and the smells of jasmine and incense burning. This global health experience has enriched my education in medicine and human rights, and also personally enriched my life.

Robin Reister visited India as a medical student in 2011. Today, she is a practicing doctor in a hospital in New York. ‘Grey Space’ is a weekly column on senior citizen issues. If you have an anecdote or leagl information, or anything you feel is useful to senior citizens, caregives and the society at large, feel free to get it published in this space. Write to editor@themetrognome.in or on Facebook at www.facebook.com/Themetrognome.in and we will publish your account.

(Pictures courtesy Robin Reister)

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The problems of the old in Incredible India

An American medical student writes about interacting with seniors in Mumbai and Bangalore and the many insights into Indian life.
by Robin Reister

Part I

India is big, crowded, and changing faster economically and socially than it can seem to keep up with. The largest democracy in the world with over one billion people, it is completely overwhelming and exhilarating, but there is also a prevalent warmth and hospitality within the people wherever you go.

India’s history is as rich and colourful as it can get, with hundreds of different conquerors and border changes, the famous story of independence led by Mahatma Gandhi, and evidence of it all remaining in the temples, statues, and preservations of countless historical sites. The culture is heavily influenced by religion and their daily rituals influence almost every part of the lives of the Hindu people I interacted with. Muslims and Christians, along with Sikhs, Buddhists, Jains, Jews, and Zorastrians also are seen openly practicing their religions, and all living in relative peace and symbiosis with each other.

Robin Reister with seniors in Mumbai

But when talking to the locals about what is changing, especially from the elderly generation, you hear about the huge social changes taking place. The breakdown of the Indian family model, which used to be comprised of a large household with all generations, is now becoming nuclear and leaving many from the silver generation without a home.

My rotation focussed on the health and social issues of the elderly population in India. I worked with a multi-faceted medical NGO in Bangalore, the Nightingale Trust, whose realm includes home medical care, an inpatient dementia care unit, adult day care, and rural medical visits amongst other things.  I also worked with a newer NGO in Mumbai known as Silver Inning Foundation which uses social networking and media to help address multiple human rights issues and needs of the elderly. My goals in this rotation were to learn about the health and human rights issues involving the elderly in India and compare them to the USA’s, share my knowledge and ideas with the Indian people I work with, and use my connections and what I learned in the future in some way to help address these and similar problems.

Before leaving, I had some grasp on the issues affecting the elderly. I had heard that there were rising amounts of elderly people due to increasing life expectancy, and little infrastructure to support them. Also I knew rates of diabetes were on the rise. I wanted to explore the issues from a medical and human rights perspective, as are my interests. On arriving, I found that these things were true, and more. Again and again I heard the stories of children abandoning their parents, or moving away to the US. There was no Government support to help them finance their daily life. Rates of depression have increased in the elderly as an outcome of the changing family structure too.

The NGOs I worked with were helping to address these issues. I was a part of these NGOs as an observer and short-term worker. I think my presence benefitted the people I interacted with by sharing my knowledge of how the elderly are treated in America and by showing my support of the activities and the people in need.

Tomorrow: ‘Do not complain about health issues’ is the Indian’s mantra.

Robin Reister visited India in 2011. Today, she is a practicing doctor in a hospital in New York. ‘Grey Space’ is a weekly column on senior citizen issues. If you have an anecdote or leagl information, or anything you feel is useful to senior citizens, caregives and the society at large, feel free to get it published in this space. Write to editor@themetrognome.in or on Facebook at www.facebook.com/Themetrognome.in and we will publish your account.

(Pictures courtesy Robin Reister and Silver Innings Foundation)

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How my son changed after marriage

…but for the better. A senior citizen recalls how her daughter-in-law easily found the missing part of her life’s puzzle.
by Rohini Durve

Everybody says that our children change after marriage. I agree. They learn responsibility, they manage their finances and they have to take care of their spouse. It is a challenging phase for any newly married person.

But far more challenging is the question of how to reconcile one’s previous life to the changed circumstances. The first issue is of helping to forge a harmonious relationship between one’s mother and one’s wife. This relationship is often a fragile one, because it is based on a constant power struggle between two women. However, it is possible to have a good relationship with one’s daughter-in-law as well.

I am lucky to have an affectionate daughter-in-law, who has never treated me with hostility. The hostile relationship in our house was actually the one my husband and I shared with our son, Dhruv.

Dhruv is a graphic designer who shuttles between many cities in India for his work. I must confess that I have never had an easy relationship with my only son. He has never been close to us, and ever since he was a teenager, he has had a better relationship with his friends than with his own parents. I don’t remember him telling us anything about his life, and when he announced that he wanted to marry Harshada, she was standing right next to him. I have never known what it is like to be friends with one’s child. I take it as my failure that I do not have a close bond with Dhruv.

But he changed after he got married. I think what made him realise that something was amiss in our relationship was an incident that happened two months after his wedding. Harshada was thinking of taking a sabbatical and sitting at home. She discussed this with me at length. When Dhruv saw her talking this over with me, he was puzzled. I later heard him remark to his wife, “Why are you telling mummy all this?”

“Because I want advice,” she replied.

“What does mummy know? She has never worked in her life!” Dhruv said.

“But she is older than us. She understands things better,” Harshada reasoned.

The same day, she took me shopping. We even stopped for coffee at a little cafe, which I had never done before. We got home late that evening, and had brought back two boxes of pizza for dinner. “Let’s not cook today,” Harshada grinned.

Dhruv had already reached home and was furious. “How long have you two been out?” he snapped. “I was hungry. And both your phones were unavailable.”

Now, I would have normally responded with an apology. But Harshada said, “If you were hungry, you should have gone to the kitchen and had a snack. Papa always has some farsan when he is hungry. He doesn’t shout for mummy to feed him. Are you special or something?”

I stared at her in awe. And at that moment both Dhruv and I realised one fact – I had always run around slaving for Dhruv. He had come to expect it from me; the moment he demanded something, I ran to help him. It was unthinkable for him to make even a cup of tea for himself. Harshada continued calmly, “Mummy has worked hard for you all her life. Now she deserves a break. You should not expect her to run after you from now on.”

Not only has Dhruv become quieter when he asks me for something, he also bought me a sari for my birthday this year. I was shocked: we have never exchanged presents at our house. I am sure it was Harshada’s idea. Last month, all of us went out for a movie and dinner. It was very awkward, because we hardly had anything to say to Dhruv. But we are opening up more and more, and I have Harshada to thank for it. She helped him realise how important it is to spend time with his parents. What I could not teach him, Harshada did.

I feel that I got a daughter in Harshada. She helped me meet my son.

‘Grey Space’ is a weekly column on senior citizen issues. If you have an anecdote or leagl information, or anything you feel is useful to senior citizens, caregives and the society at large, feel free to get it published in this space. Write to editor@themetrognome.in or on Facebook at www.facebook.com/Themetrognome.in and we will publish your account.

(Picture courtesy www.youthkiawaaz.com. Image used for representational purpose only)

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