The Ambivalent Septuagenarian

By Ashok Mitra

John, now a septuagenarian, resides in Guwahati, the city where he grew up. He had always wished to settle in a developed Western country, but circumstances led him to take a secure government job in Guwahati. Due to familial obligations, he had to remain in that job throughout his career. As a result, he did moderately well in life. He has one son, Clayton.

John earnestly wanted Clayton to accomplish in life what he himself could not. However, he did not have the affordability to fund Clayton’s education abroad, so he pushed his son to apply to universities in the USA that offered postgraduate scholarships. Unfortunately, Clayton could not secure a full scholarship and his plans fell through. 

Frustrated by life’s disappointments, John became increasingly desperate to persuade Clayton to seek job opportunities abroad. Deep in his heart, he firmly believed, rightly or wrongly, that the key to happiness lay in settling overseas, because of the abundance of professional opportunities and the superior quality of life compared to India.

Clayton was working happily at an IT company in India, the first job of his career after completing his post-graduation. One day, just after he completed a year of service, John said, “Son, start actively looking for job opportunities abroad.”

Clayton, however, was not too keen on immigrating. He cherished his life in India, enjoying the admiration of his friends, who looked up to him for his all-round excellence in sports, debates and academics. But under relentless pressure from his father, he reluctantly continued applying for overseas jobs and attending online interviews.

Eventually, he secured a position at an IT company in Sydney. John was jubilant, basking in the glory of his son's success. Clayton, initially hesitant to accept the offer, was persuaded by his father, who convinced him of the long-term benefits. In the end, Clayton quit his job in India, setting out for distant Australia, driven not just by ambition but in deference to his father’s wishes, dreams and aspirations. His mother had mixed feelings, though.

As the years rolled by, Clayton gradually integrated into Australian society. He changed jobs twice in pursuit of rapid career growth, bought a house on mortgage, owned a European car and brought his parents to Australia multiple times. All of these filled John with a deep sense of fulfilment and pride. He was living through his son, as ecstatic as he could be. 

In time, Clayton fell in love with Rosie, a former professional tennis player on the Australian circuit. By the time they decided to marry, Clayton was thirty-two. Though John had nothing against Rosie, he felt that cultural differences might eventually affect their compatibility. However, he chose not to dwell on these apprehensions.

Before long, Clayton and Rosie were blessed with twins. John was overjoyed at reaching another milestone in his life i.e., becoming a grandfather.

However, these milestones introduced a new dynamic - John's visits to Australia became less frequent and the duration of each stay shortened significantly. At the same time, with his professional, personal and household commitments, Clayton could no longer travel to India as often as he once did.

John gradually began to feel this change. Their interactions continued, though mostly through WhatsApp video calls. At least this way, he could still see his son, daughter-in-law, and grandchildren on the screen.

A few more years passed. John lost his wife all of a sudden. Her passing came as a shock to everyone, as she had no known ailments. Clayton rushed to Guwahati to see his mother one last time before the final rites were performed at a nearby burial ground. He stayed for a few days, trying to spend as much quality time with his father as possible. But soon, his professional commitments forced him to leave. Before departing, he ensured that John had a strong support system in place, setting up reliable infrastructure to take care of his father’s needs seamlessly.

John was thrust into this new reality just after turning seventy. Though he had an attendant at home, he soon began to deeply miss his wife’s presence. He realized, perhaps too late, how much he had taken her companionship for granted. Loneliness crept in and within months, his health began to deteriorate. His doctor prescribed medication and a regulated diet, along with a simple yet crucial piece of advice - daily morning walks.

There was a neighbourhood park near his residence and John soon began walking there every morning. One day, after completing his walk, he sat on a bench to rest when another elderly gentleman randomly sat beside him. John welcomed the company - it felt good to have someone to talk to.

The man introduced himself as Wasim, a resident of the same locality, just one block away. As they conversed, John discovered striking similarities between them. Both were in their seventies, both were widowers and both had a single son, married with two children. The key difference, however, was that while John lived alone, Wasim resided with his son, daughter-in-law and grandchildren.

John and Wasim met every day. One day, as they were chatting, Clayton called. During the conversation, John learned that Clayton had been promoted and would soon have to relocate to his company’s headquarters in San Francisco.

Wasim congratulated John with a smile. “You must be a very proud father,” he said.

John murmured, “Yes, that’s true. I feel happy about my son’s success. But at the same time... San Francisco is so far away.”

Wasim was full of admiration for Clayton. He also understood that John, who had retired from his government job more than a decade ago, would not have been able to maintain such a comfortable lifestyle - complete with a swanky car, driver, house attendant and elegantly decorated home - without his son's generous financial support.

Wasim : You must be a very contented and fulfilled man.

John :  While that’s true looking from the outside, there’s a cost that I have to pay. I hardly get to see my grandchildren, son and daughter-in-law here in Guwahati. Also, I do not have any relatives here.

Wasim :  I see. I am possibly a bit lucky. I spend most of my time with my grandchildren at home.

John : How lovely !

Wasim : One of them sings melodiously, the other is a good storyteller. They keep me engrossed. 

John : How I wish my son and his family were here more often ! My grandchildren hardly know me.

Wasim :  So why isn’t he here more often ?

John :  Clayton's job is quite demanding, requiring frequent business travel. Living in a distant overseas country only makes it harder for him to visit Guwahati often for personal trips

Wasim : And your daughter-in- law ? 

John :  She is an Australian with no Indian roots. Naturally she does not feel a compelling need to visit India every time Clayton is here, however infrequent that might be. 

Wasim changed the topic. 

He asked : How is your health nowadays, John ?

John : The morning walks, medications and the prescribed diet are keeping me fit. What about you?

Wasim : I am good now. But I had a close shave couple of times in the recent past - came back from the jaws of death.

John (with surprise) : Really ? What had happened ?

Wasim : Once, I suffered a heart attack; the other time, it was severe gastrointestinal bleeding. On both occasions, the situation was critical and necessitated immediate hospitalisation.

John : Oops ! So how did you come out of it ?

Wasim : All by the grace of God. But I must admit, each time, my son, Irfan stood by me like a rock - handling everything with unwavering support. He ran around, spoke to doctors, arranged hard-to-find medicines, managed finances and made quick decisions. His presence truly mattered in those moments. In fact, the moment I began to feel unwell, he promptly consulted the doctor, ensuring that my treatment started without delay. Of course, the doctors were excellent too.

John : Oh I see. And when you came back home, was it tough to get back into normal routine ?

Wasim : My caring daughter-in-law took charge, personally stepping in while also arranging trained help for tasks that required support, all to ensure my swift recovery. It was thoughtful of her to take leave from work to be there for me.

Suddenly, Wasim seemed to remember something and quickly glanced at his watch. He stood up at once and told John that Irfan, had planned a family outing for the day - it was Sunday, after all. The plan was for all five of them to enjoy lunch at a nice restaurant, watch a movie and spend some part of the day together outside home. Thus Wasim left the park a little earlier than usual.

John sat alone, lost in introspection. A helpless realization struck him - if he, like Wasim, ever faced a serious health issue requiring immediate intervention and hospitalization, it could spell disaster. He wasn’t entirely confident in his attendant’s ability to handle an emergency with the necessary wisdom and presence of mind.

While he had no doubts about Clayton’s sense of responsibility and duty, he was uncertain whether his son could drop everything and arrange a trip to Guwahati at a moment’s notice, given his demanding job and commitments in a distant country. A deep sense of emptiness settled within him - he had no real family life around him. The idea of spending time with his son’s family felt like a far-fetched dream, let alone the thought of all four of them accompanying him for a day out.

Slowly, John came to terms with the fact that loneliness would remain his closest companion, bringing with it its share of insecurity, anxiety, fear and depression. No one had ever taught him how to take care of his mind. And so, he wondered - how could he effectively manage his mental stress and emotional turmoil ? He feared that if left unchecked, it might only accelerate the deterioration of his health.

For a split second, John wondered, ‘’Couldn’t Clayton be like Irfan ?’’ But almost instantly, a memory flashed through his mind - how he had relentlessly pushed Clayton to settle abroad, despite his son's strong resistance.

John’s mind was clouded with countless questions. What if he hadn’t pushed Clayton to take that overseas job ? What if Clayton had stayed back and thrived just as well in India ? Don’t educated professionals in India enjoy a good quality of life ? Haven’t professional opportunities in the country grown over time ? Had he made a mistake persuading Clayton then, who was quite happy enjoying his professional and personal life in India ?  

If Clayton had proactively pursued overseas job opportunities on his own, these questions might have lost some of their weight. But the truth was, it was John who had steered his son’s professional journey, wanting to live his own dreams through him. And now, as a consequence of that decision, he felt an unsettling emptiness.

At the same time, Clayton’s accomplishments filled John with immense pride. His son’s success had become a surrogate for his own unfulfilled aspirations. Ever since Clayton started supporting him financially, John had never faced the hardships that many middle-class families occasionally endure. He had travelled abroad multiple times and enjoyed a life of material comfort. These thoughts reassured him, offering a kind of validation for his decision back then - but was he merely rationalizing ?

So, had John made the right choice or the wrong one ? The septuagenarian was miserably confused, unsure of where the truth lay. All that he knew was that he couldn’t change the past - he had to accept life as it was. And yet, his predicament made it impossible to find peace, even when he tried to convince himself that his decision had been justified. He wondered if others in similar situations struggled with the same inner turmoil.

Poor John was trapped in his own ambivalence, wasn’t he ?

By Ashok Mitra