I found the following articles in the Sunday Edition of Times of India as food for thought for both today's generation and today's senior citizens. Living at an ‘intimate distance’
Between them, this family has lived in Bangalore, Delhi, Dubai, Kolkata, Assam, Benaras, Nigeria, Mangalore and Malaysia. But finally, it has dropped anchor in Bangalore. Mohua Bhattacharjee, a freelance writer, husband Sandip, an aeronautical engineer, and their daughter Sneha first moved to Bangalore in 2005, and then later to Dubai. Sandip's parents lived in Delhi at the time, while Mohua's were in Kolkata. During the Bhattacharjees' stint in Dubai, Sandip's parents fell seriously ill. His mother passed away after a short battle with cancer, and his father's heart ailment took a serious turn. "Sandip travelled 18 times between Dubai and Delhi when his parents were unwell. There were times when he would land in Dubai, and would have to take the next flight back to Delhi because there would be a call saying his father had been readmitted to hospital," says Mohua. Eventually, the family moved to Delhi to be closer to Sandip's father and took care of him till his death. Soon, the family moved to Bangalore and bought a home in an upmarket gated community. Soon, the family started worrying about Mohua's parents, Dr Ashok Kumar Sanyal and Purabi Sanyal, who were also in their 70s. "My parents had settled down in Kolkata by then, and they had a lot of friends, neighbours and siblings there. But still, they were afraid of falling sick and becoming a bother for others. After a point, most of their conversations started revolving around which neighbor they would call first if either of them fell sick and had to be hospitalized. They started saving phone numbers everywhere. That's when we started talking about them moving here," says Mohua. When her parents came on a visit to Bangalore, they really liked the community where Mohua and her family were living. Eventually, they decided to sell their flat in Kolkata, and buy a two-bedroom flat on the same floor as Mohua. "My parents were very sure they didn't want to live with us. They like to have their own space just as much as we do. They have their own rooms, because they have different routines, different TV shows they like to watch, and they sleep and wake up at different times," says Mohua. "And of course, we have our own lifestyle. Although they are very cool parents, it would be tough for us to entertain friends if they were living with us." Having two apartments on the same floor has really worked for the Sanyals and Bhattacharjees. Since Mohua works out of home and Sandip's work starts only in the evening, they have lunch with her parents most days. Mohua's mother cooks a few dishes and Mohua takes some of her own food over as well. They play carrom and cards together, and grand-daughter Sneha (who is teaching them how to use Facebook) often drops in to keep them company. *Homes for the new joint family* In Bangalore, the "*living together but apart*" concept is catching on even with real estate developers. Last year, DivyaSree Developers announced a new project 77° Place, with 'Linked Joint Family Homes' - homes designed for multi-generational families. Often referred to as a 'doublement', each units consists of two attached apartments, one of which is larger than the other. Each apartment is complete in itself so the independence of each family remains uncompromised. The doublements have a common foyer that connects the twin units, there is also a common balcony between them. Home buyers can also opt for a sliding wall door between the connected units. The builder plans to launch three more twin-apartment projects. *The Sridhars want their parents live like independent householders, not hapless retirees * Joeanna Rebello CKrishnan, 81, and his wife Lakshmi Krishnan, 72, believe their son Krish Sridhar spoils them. The 46-year-old garment exporter has set his parents up in a 3-bedroom apartment in a posh gated community on the thriving stretch called Old Mahabalipuram Road (OMR), on the outskirts of Chennai.“I wanted them to feel like householders,“ he explains.“They ought to have enough room to accommodate their children and their families when they come visiting.“ Sridhar and his own family had made it a ritual to drop in for dinner every Thursday . But now their mutual comings and goings are more flexible. When Sridhar, his wife Pravina and their three sons moved back from Sydney a few years ago and settled on OMR, they asked their parents, who lived 40 km away in an apartment in the heart of Chennai, if they'd like to resettle on the outskirts. “While we wanted them to live close to us so we could attend to them more fully , we also thought a gated community would provide them with a better social life,“ chips in Pravina, gesturing to her mother-in-law, whose weak knees restrict her mobility . So in 2011 the Krishnans finally closed the distance and moved into an apartment their son rented for them, 2 km from his own place. “People may wonder why I haven't invited them to live with me in my 5-bedroom apartment,“ Sridhar says. “But we each have *our own lifestyles and habits*, and wouldn't want a self-conscious, compromised existence. I wouldn't want to confine my parents to a bedroom in my house.“ Social differences defined by each generation -from food and drink and TV shows to the gods they worship -can be mutually abrasive when generations co-habit. “Rather than have undercurrents of resentment under one roof, I'd rather provide my parents a home where they can be themselves,“ Sridhar says, “And as far as what people say about this arrangement, I care more about my parents than society .“ “*Living separately together* is better for all,“ reaffirms Lakshmi Krishnan, who, like her husband, is proud of her son's benevolence but exasperated with his bestowed luxuries. “He bought me a Reva so I could travel into town to watch the music concerts and attend plays I love, but I prefer taking the bus or covering short distances on my scooter,“ says Krishnan. Their proximity lets the Sridhars arrive at their parents' side within minutes of an emergency. “When my mother-in-law took ill and couldn't cook for a while, we sent food over,“ says Pravina. Their parents presently have part-time domestic help, but as they grow older and should their health deteriorate, the Sridhars plan to hire a live-in maid or subscribe to a fulltime nursing service. They're aware that their parents are at that crossing where independence slides gradually to semi-dependence, but rather than assume charge, they'd prefer to assist from nearby .Family decisions are made jointly , but it is the elderly couple who ultimately choose what's right for them. This Delhi family has cracked the formula for parenting parents *Malini Nair* The matriarchs in this clan refuse to fit into any geriatric groove. The story starts with the 87-year old grandmother, Pushpa Vadera, who lives in an independent house a few miles from her eldest daughter in Toronto. She went to Canada to help her daughter care for her newborn but stayed on, on the condition that she would work and live apart as she aged. “I have many friends and I love visiting the casino. She, the kids and her husband, have a routine that my social life may not fit into. But she is there (for me),“ says Vadera, who is currently visiting her family in Delhi. The balance of proximity and distance with parents is a tricky one to achieve but it is perhaps the most workable solution for dealing with a host of issues related to ageing -health, safety, mobility, and most importantly, loneliness and isola tion. And the happy ratio that Vadera maintains between love and independence has also been adopted by her own daughter, Kumkum, 68, and granddaughter, Nisha Chopra Dey. Nisha, an HR professional, her husband and two sons live barely 500 yards from Kumkum in a South Delhi enclave.Nisha, the older of two sisters, has always watched over her widowed mother like a hawk, making sure her lone existence doesn't make her vulnerable. She makes sure she is driven around the city, her needs attended to and the nightly ritual of a chat maintained. “She needs looking after but I also respect her wish for independence,“ says Nisha. Her husband, who works for a software firm, is also happy with the arrangement. The two grandchildren have always been the centre of Kumkum's universe but her own life as an individual has always been quite full. There are friends from the air force, a large ring of siblings and card games that pack her days. With a family scattered across the world, there is also a great deal of travel. “She has been a great daughter. But as we grow older, our temperaments change and if we were too much in each others' lives we will end up bugging each other. I know that I can go to her any time but why be a burden? I have always been clear that I want to live on my own. At this distance I know that she is always there for me,“ she says. <http://epaperbeta.timesofindia.com/Article.aspx?eid=31808&articlexml=This-Delhi-family-has-cracked-the-formula-for-26102014013015#> -- With best wishes S Chander -- You received this message because you are subscribed to the Google Groups "Thatha_Patty" group. To unsubscribe from this group and stop receiving emails from it, send an email to [email protected]. For more options, visit https://groups.google.com/d/optout.
