Your father’s blood pressure pills are due but your project deadline is tomorrow. Your mother calls to ask when you’ll visit but your boss just scheduled a late-night meeting. In today’s world, where the ‘hustle’ is glorified and ‘slow’ is a sin, aging parents are becoming the silent casualties of our ambition.
We live in an India that never sleeps. Metro trains run packed at midnight, food deliveries happen at 3 AM and work emails get answered during family dinners. But in this relentless race for success, have you noticed who’s being left behind at the empty bus stop of loneliness? Our parents. The very people who spent their lives making sure we caught the right buses to our futures.
The statistics tell a heartbreaking story. According to HelpAge India, nearly 65% of urban elders report tripping loneliness. The United Nations Population Fund reveals that one in three seniors in Indian metros live alone with their children either abroad or in other cities chasing dreams. These aren’t just numbers. They’re millions of silent meals eaten alone, unspoken worries and muted television sets playing to empty living rooms.
We touch elders’ feet for blessings but won’t sit with them for 10 minutes. India’s joint families where grandparents were the heart of the home have been replaced by nuclear setups in cramped city apartments. The same culture that taught us “Mathru Devo Bhava” (Mother is divine) now checks on parents via hurried WhatsApp calls between meetings.
I remember how my grandmother knew 52 lullabies, my mother knows 14. I know 2–both from YouTube. This is how we’re losing more than just family traditions. Our parents’ generation grew up in homes where elders were natural caregivers, telling stories, offering wisdom and filling the house with warmth. Today, elders are often treated as afterthoughts, their needs squeezed between work deadlines and social commitments. We’ve convinced ourselves that financial support is enough–that paying for their medicines or funding their spiritual getaways replaces the need for our presence. But no UPI payment can replace a hug. No food delivery substitutes for shared meals.
The emotional toll is just one side of the problem. Practically speaking who helps them navigate complicated hospital appointments? Who notices fading eyesight or forgotten medications?
One day, the roles will reverse. We will be the ones waiting for a call, hoping for a visit or longing for a conversation. The way we treat our parents today is a blueprint our children will follow tomorrow. Still think you’re busy? When that day comes, no career achievement, no paycheck, no social media milestone will ever matter as much as the love we showed when it was needed most.
They were there for our first steps. They gave us their time when they had nothing else to give. Isn’t it time we returned the favor?