Irony of Our Times: When a Son Must Be Told to Be Fair to His Ageing Parents

The irony of our times is tragic, even laughable if it weren’t so painful: that we need campaigns, helplines and international observances to remind a son to be kind to his parents, or a daughter-in-law to treat her father-in-law like a human being.

On Sunday, June 15, 2025, the world marks World Elder Abuse Awareness Day—a grim reflection of the deep fracture in our homes, where the very people who raised us are left wounded not by strangers, but by us.

Elder abuse is not a metaphor. It is real, rampant and rising. And it wears many masks—some visible, others deeply concealed.

• Physical abuse – Hitting, slapping, pushing, restraining. Like the 78-year-old father who was forcibly locked in a room for “safety” because his son didn’t want him answering the door or talking to neighbors.
• Emotional or psychological abuse – Constant insults, taunts, threats, humiliation, gaslighting. “Why don’t you just die?” a widow was told by her daughter-in-law in a posh Srinagar household—daily.
• Neglect – The most common and silent form. Withholding basic care, not helping with toilet needs, not caring about their medicine. A diabetic mother was left alone with nothing but dry puffed rice to eat while the rest of the family feasted on wazwan.
• Financial abuse – Seizing pension books, coercing elders into signing property documents, blocking bank access. One retired government teacher unknowingly signed over his ancestral home in exchange for “lifelong care” that never came.
• Social isolation – Cutting them off from friends and relatives, not allowing visitors, removing SIM cards from phones, discouraging them from attending mosques or senior clubs. “She talks too much on the phone,” the daughter-in-law said, before switching the SIM and deleting all contacts.
• Digital exclusion – In this age, denying an elder the use of a smartphone, WhatsApp, or video calling is equivalent to gagging them. A grandfather in Budgam hadn’t seen his granddaughter for three years—until a neighbor helped him video call her and he wept.
• Invisible abuse – This is the most painful kind. The kind that leaves no bruises, only broken hearts. The widow who eats alone at odd hours so she won’t “inconvenience” the family. The father who lives in the smallest room of the house he built. The grandmother whose gifts are never acknowledged or used, left to believe she’s irrelevant.
• Emotional starvation – Being made to feel unworthy of conversation. Like a former college professor whose own children text her once a week with just: “All okay?”
• Symbolic disinheritance – Removing old parents from family group photos, not taking them to weddings, keeping them away from celebrations. “People say our house smells like old people,” said a bride who didn’t invite her parents.
• Ritual tokenism – Giving elders “their space” in the house but excluding them from decision-making, parenting advice, or even casual family discussions. They live among us, yet not with us.
• Dietary control abuse – Giving them leftover or dry food, not accommodating their dietary needs.
• Care-for-labor trade – Expecting them to babysit or run errands in exchange for food and stay. “Why do we need a nanny, and my mother-in-law just sits all day anyway,” a young mother said about her mother-in-law caring for her toddler.
• Silent eviction – Shifting them to a corner room, removing the TV, or placing them with a relative who doesn’t want them. “She’s better off there,” said the son, sending his widowed mother to a relative’s home under the guise of “company.”
• Guilt-based manipulation – Making elders feel they are the problem when they express pain. “You’re just too sensitive,” one son told his 82-year-old father who asked to join dinner with the family.
• Smallest form of abuse– Speaking to your parents in a raised or harsh tone

These aren’t anecdotes from a distant land. These are real stories from homes around us. They are whispered in clinics, revealed in trembling voices during our home visits, or noticed in the weariness of eyes that have seen too much and been heard too little.

Elder abuse is no longer about what we do to them. It’s also about what we fail to do for them.

Moul Mouj Foundation, working at the grassroots for graceful and dignified ageing, has encountered these stories firsthand—cases that should make our society hang its head. A retired teacher now cleans floors in a relative’s home. A widow waits weeks for her son to answer a call. A frail father begs for his diabetes medicines while his bank account is emptied by his son.

And yet, these stories rarely spark outrage. Why? Because abuse in old age is rarely loud. It’s not televised. It’s not scandalous. It’s just a slow, suffocating withdrawal of love, care, and responsibility.

The truth is: elder abuse is not only a moral failure—it is a civic and cultural collapse. The family, once a fortress of protection, has become, for some, the site of betrayal.

So where do we go from here?

We do not need more slogans. We need a shift in attitude. And that begins at the dining table. In the bedroom. At the ATM. In the tone we use when we speak to our parents. In how we structure our homes, our lives, our values.

Adult children must ask themselves uncomfortable questions:

• When was the last time I had a real conversation with my parents, not just about chores or complaints?
• Have I given them the freedom to decide how they want to spend their time, money, or remaining years?
• Do I speak to them as I would want my child to speak to me someday?
• Have I ensured they feel relevant, not redundant?

It is not enough to say “I provide them food and medicine.” Are you providing dignity? Company? Choice? These are basic human rights—not luxuries.

Many elders don’t need financial support; they need emotional space. They don’t want to be “taken care of”—they want to be respected as individuals, not as liabilities.

A society is only as healthy as how it treats its most vulnerable. Old age is not a curse. It is our collective tomorrow. How we treat our elderly today is how we will be treated when our hair turns grey, our steps slow down, and our voice trembles.

As part of its campaign, Moul Mouj Foundation has initiated several projects including health cards, free consultations, intergenerational communication, workshops, conferences, awareness programs and medicine support for neglected elders. But their work cannot substitute for what adult children must do inside their homes. This isn’t about policy or programs. This is about introspection and accountability.

It’s time to restore the balance of gratitude. Our elders walked so we could run. They stayed hungry so we could eat. They compromised so we could dream.

We cannot let them end their lives in silence, shame, or sorrow.

Let World Elder Abuse Awareness Day 2025 not be just another date in the calendar. Let it be the start of a reckoning.

Let us build a culture where no child has to be told, “Be fair to your mother.”

Let us reach a day where dignity, not dependency, defines the experience of ageing.

Let us rewrite the end of their story with compassion—not pity, with reverence—not regret.

And if we fail them today, let’s be prepared to answer our own children tomorrow.