KATHMANDU, DECEMBER 18
When you think of Nepal from a social standpoint, you see a family oriented society, a society much different than any western societies throughout the world. For a long time, Nepal has always opposed the idea of moving out and leaving your parents to be by themselves. Unlike the individual oriented world, Nepalese children have always been taught the true Nepali morals and values of respecting your elders. I used to have that perspective as well until a short time ago, when I started volunteering at an old age home located in Kathmandu. Unlike similar associations or homes, this was a for-profit organization. Many elders here came from respectable families who had enough money to take care of them themselves. So, as I stepped through the doors of the old age home, I immediately wondered why these elders, once surrounded by loved ones, were now on their own, bundled up with a bunch of strangers, and expected to feel grateful for the care they received.
The ideas of old age homes, whether it is for-profit or non-profit, have always disgruntled me a bit. These organizations seem to solidify the thought that Nepal's so-called 'family-oriented' society is coming to an end. Yet on the other end of the spectrum, we can regard these homes as heroes, offering refuge to those who have been abandoned. The amount of pain one can feel in this old age home is incomparable to any other. Within the six months that I have volunteered here, I have experienced a rollercoaster of emotions-from pain, as I witnessed abandonment to gratitude, for bringing comfort into their lives One of the very first things I noticed was that, despite their various medical conditions, the true pain these elders felt didn't come from their illnesses, but from the heartbreaking realization that they had been abandoned by the very people they raised-their children. It came from the realization that they had become a burden to those they loved. It came from the realization that though they had raised a family to be together and loved, they would spend the dying years of their life alone. Even worse, many of the medical conditions these elders had, caused them the inability of speech. That was when I realized how much pain must be swelling inside them-so much pain, yet they couldn't express any of it-a pain far greater than we can imagine. That is why ever since I have started helping this old age home out, as I've mentioned before, lost in the vastness of the world, we often seem to forget how privileged we actually are. No matter how hard life may be for us, we live such a life that we can almost always be assured that someone is worse off. We take it for granted to have loving parents, siblings, and even kids. Taking even the littlest of things for granted is a dangerous thing. As we must remember, nothing in the world is permanent, not even the love shared by parents and children. We often fail to be grateful for and care for something before it is actually gone. We never actually know the value of what we have until it's gone. A lesson I have learned from these six months is to love my parents and elders dearly, because I know they won't be with me forever, and I have to cherish these moments we have together.
The second lesson I learned is gratitude. The word-to-word definition of gratitude is the quality of being thankful, but in my opinion, it goes much deeper than that. It is a method for people to be positive, even when things are at their lowest. For people in this old age home, it is also a coping mechanism to forget about all the pain they hold inside. For me, the more I spent time with these elders, the more I came to realize how much they actually value the smallest of things, which is something we all should incorporate in our life. Small talks between friends, rare visits from family, and care from volunteers such as myself are all things that bring a small amount of excitement into their lives. Personally, I strive to make each of my visits as interactive as possible, to give these elders as much joy as I can throughout the day. Though my weekly visits are often short, they are never short of knowledge and advice. Though these visits always start with me trying to help these elders, it ends with me taking home important life lessons and values. I have realized that there is much more to learn about life from people who have lived it to the fullest, who have encountered ups and downs, but have never strayed from the pursuit of happiness.
I recently read 'Tuesdays with Morrie' by Mitch Albom, a book where the plot revolved around a young, ambitious man reunited with his old professor, who had been diagnosed with ALS and was dying. Every Tuesday, they had long, deep sessions together, where they would learn together - about love, life and happiness. I strive to make my visits like that, where there is an exchange of happiness and knowledge both ways. I become a medium for these elderly people to exchange their ideas, complaints, and appreciations with each other, but more importantly I become someone who is with them no matter what the situation is. Most of the elderly have trouble speaking, whether it is out of habit of having nobody around or due to a physical disorder. Not being able to express your feelings when you are down is probably the worst situation that such a social being, like a human can go through. That's why I believe the concept of old age homes can be reassuring as well. It could potentially be a place not only to take care of our elders, who are vital sources of knowledge in our community, but also to be a place where there are people to accompany them, to be by their side when they're in situations where they're hurt or confused.
However, no matter how heroic these homes may be, the core concept itself is one that should never have arisen. The elderly belong in their true homes, homes filled with love, care, and privilege from their children. Even if old age homes can be considered gallant given the current situation, they are materialistic proof that the family oriented society, something so treasured in Nepal, is slowly fading away into a distant memory, something to be remembered but not cherished.
Pragyan Gautam is a Grade 10 student at Rato Bangala School, Lalitpur.