It has been months since this incident took place. Yet, every time I happen to think about it, my insides become fuzzy. An unnamed emotion overwhelms me and I feel so vulnerable. I think that it would be better to sit in a cocoon than to come out and face the fake world. My heart goes out to all helpless beings out there in the world.

It was during a visit to an oldage home in Chennai. We happened to visit it as part of an interactive session and I found a new way of viewing the world.

Grandmas and grandpas flocked about everywhere as we spoke to them, conducted games for them and performed for them. They all looked happy, at least for the moment.

We knew that we had gone visiting them taking along momentary happiness along with us. It would vanish as soon as they are left to themselves. As soon as we leave the place.

Surely, the feeling of dejection from our loved ones is hard to ignore. No matter how much we try to make the inhabitants of the homage feel special, no matter how much we try cheering them up, it stays there at the back of their mind and comes to attack them with full force when they are alone. It keeps reminding them that they aren't needed. That their kids had chosen their new families over them.

Left them when they needed them the most, at their second childhood; at a time they craved to be surrounded by family members. When all they wanted was to see their kids living happily with their spouses. At a time they wanted to stand by and bless their grandkids as they learnt to crawl, walk, study, get a job, fall in love and get married, they were left among many who were stranded like them.

There isn't a single solace for them and the gloomy atmosphere doesn't help them either. All they feel is suffocation.

They feel unwanted. All the time! The worse thing is that, they couldn't run away from it. They know that they were used and tossed aside and it sickens them.

My mates and I felt it all in the atmosphere but we decided to ignore it. We thought that we might as well cheer them up during our stay. We began our work. As time elapsed, their tight lipped smiles were being replaced by cheerful laughter. They were opening up! Was it because they really felt content due to our presence or because they pitied us is something we'd never get to know. Nonetheless, our work was full-fledged.

As I pulled off the plug and gave away the tape recorder, I saw two grandmas with sullen faces, sitting in a corner.

I wasn't a therapist but knew enough about reading people's expressions to guess that they had the most troubled past of the lot. I walked up to them after having made up my mind and tried to chat. They were grumpy and tight, didn't even bother replying for my questions. The way they looked at me plainly screamed that wanted me to get lost. But I can't be easily done with. I am of the shameful lot😉 I didn't give up. I spoke about my school, our plans and about myself. Gradually, they loosened up and blurted out their story. Trust me, every part of it was painful but I kept on speaking and they kept on relenting.

I hadn't meant to cry in front of them but my traitorous tears slipped from my eyes. "My dear, you are crying!", the granny exclaimed as she patted my back awkwardly. She didn't know what to do with a crying teenager. I smiled through my tears and quickly wiped them away. I didn't want them to feel bad. That was not what I had planned. I hadn't planned of making them wallow in self pity. I wanted to make them feel loved and renew their faith in their Creator. I changed the topic quickly and they didn't catch it at all.

I was, am and will be quite an actress (for a good cause)!

I only mentioned two of them here but there were nearly two hundred of them in that compound. Each one of them have a story to tell. Each of them have painful memories stashed up at the back of their mind. Each one has experienced the feeling of being treated like trash!

Along with growing population, even the number of oldage homes in India seems to be growing. And the number of broken hearts grow too.

While running behind worldly riches, we forget about the ones who gave us birth in the first place. Had it not been for them we wouldn't have such a leisure lifestyle. Had they forsaken us like we do to them, we would be in the streets dressed in tatters, begging even for a single meal or probably rotting in the gutter. All what we have: our riches, our education, our life - we owe it all to our parents. I vowed not to ever treat mine like that.

Parents are our gifts and it is difficult to describe our bond with them. They do scold us, even admonish us severely, ground us and keep commenting on every single thing we do but it is all for our own good. The people in the oldage home had children who were well off and settled in life but they had lost their moral sense when they decided to toss away their parents. Inspite of it all, most of the grandmas and grandpas wanted us to pray for their kids!

As we went to bid them goodbye, most of them said,"Pray for my children. They are very busy to come visit me. I want them to be peaceful and lead a happy life."

I was utterly shocked. Maybe that is what is called the love of parents. Even if you treat them like dirt, their love always finds its way to you!

*****