dinner, three generations gathered in the house they shared, like
nearly every Indian family she knew.
But now that Uma Paranjpe is a grandmother, she finds herself living
alone in a small apartment, her children abroad, her grandchildren far
from her cooking and her stories.
And she's thrilled.
"Grandparents also want their own independence," said the 62-year-old
widow, who lives in a bustling retirement community in this
southwestern Indian city. "We want freedom. We would like to travel,
to pursue our hobbies."
A cultural revolution is underway in India, led by an unlikely
gray-haired vanguard that is dramatically changing what it means to be
old here, and what it means to be a family. In a country where family
is society's strongest cultural anchor, the thought of the elderly
living alone has long been anathema, but many older people today are
embracing the notion.
With the economy booming, children are moving away for jobs, leaving
elderly parents on their own. Although some lament the breakdown in
family as a sign of cultural decline, others -- especially the
well-off -- are happy to devote their old age to themselves instead of
their grandchildren.
The new retirement communities so far are available only for the rich.
There's nothing between the high-end faux Florida facilities and bleak
government-run homes for those with nowhere else to go.
About a dozen development companies across the country offer sparkling
facilities complete with badminton courts, lap pools and game rooms to
the wealthiest sliver of the country's 80 million people older than
60.
"I don't think my son or my daughter will look after me -- and I'm
damn happy about it," said Minoo Shroff, 72, who lives in a housing
complex for seniors in Pune, a city popular with retirees because it's
more temperate than much of the rest of India. "I'm independent,
they're independent."
Seniors in India traditionally occupy a role somewhere between family
pillar and dependent hanger-on, with more than 71% of the elderly
living with their children or grandchildren, according to the 2001
national census.
Grandparents can be revered keepers of family lore or ghostly
presences cooking nearly forgotten recipes. But from teeming cities to
sleepy villages, caring for one's parents is to most Indians a duty as
important as caring for one's children, and home after home across the
country is crowded with the same mix of generations.
The arrangement is one borne out of custom and financial necessity --
the Indian government provides no Social Security-type benefits, and
less than 10% of the population receives even a small pension.
Experts say the new prosperity flooding into India is weakening the
"joint family" system, in which the next generation lived with the
last, because the pace of life is speeding up and people are becoming
Westernized.
"The younger generation is very busy. They don't have time to spend
with older people," said Harvinder Bakshi of HelpAge India, a major
activist group for the elderly. "The joint family system is
disintegrating."
Newspapers frequently carry lurid stories of children abandoning their
parents to the street, and activists have called on the government to
open more affordable old-age homes.
Bakshi says his group gets half a dozen calls a month about abandoned
seniors, but he doesn't think that is an alarming trend.
Even the expensive retirement homes can't make up for the joy of
growing old among family.
"I miss that bonding, that security, that comfort, the love, the
shelter. We don't feel that here," said Madhukar Gokarn, 73.
She and her husband live in an exclusive retirement community called
Golden Nest in Pune, but her afternoon walks on the building's roof
are small consolation for what she has lost. "Who wouldn't want to be
with their own children as long as possible?"
Shashank Paranjape, the real estate developer generally credited with
introducing retirement homes to India, opened his first project,
Athashri, in 2003 in Pune as a complex explicitly modeled on Western
retirement homes.
With about 1,000 residents in four branches, Athashri is a thriving
community that looks as though it was plucked straight from Florida,
right down to the early-bird specials -- spicy lentils and rice.
Paranjape plans to build retirement homes in five more Indian cities,
but he and other developers face major hurdles.
To most Indians, communities exclusively of old people seem as
impractical as neighborhoods of children would be. Also, the buy-in
prices of $75,000 to $125,000 rule out the vast majority of the
population, though with the economy growing every year, developers are
betting the market will increase.
The communities buzz with card games, book clubs and music lessons --
activities all but unthinkable in generations past, when old age was
spent helping with grandchildren and household chores.
"My mother used to love the violin, but she never had time to play,"
said Pushpa Salem, 67, who has become an avid butterfly collector
since moving to Athashri nearly five years ago. "She would have loved
it here."
"When we stay with our children we feel very old," she said. "Here, we
feel young."
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment