Unseen Wounds
It’s a sight that no one should ever witness. Yet, in the broad daylight of everyday life, the unthinkable happens. A video circulates — an elderly couple, frail and weathered, is brutally beaten by their son, who wields a chappal with rage, inflicting not just physical pain, but unimaginable humiliation and sorrow. Kashmir gasps in horror, and for a fleeting moment, we are united in shock.
But what happens after the gasps fade, after the outrage settles, and after the clip is no longer trending? For these parents, the nightmare does not end when the cameras stop rolling.
In an interview after this dreadful act, the elderly parents, who had once held their son with hopes and dreams, made a heartbreaking demand — that he be given the toughest punishment possible. Their voices, trembling not from age but from the weight of betrayal, called for justice, not just for themselves but for every parent suffering silently. Their plea was not rooted in anger alone, but in a desperate hope that perhaps their son’s punishment would serve as a deterrent for others. A warning to those who have forgotten the sacred bond between parent and child, and who have reduced it to a transactional relationship, where respect and care are abandoned at the slightest inconvenience.
But what irony, what bitter cruelty, that even after such a horrific incident, their son continued to torment them. Refusing them peace in their own home. This isn’t just about physical abuse. It is about the slow, painful erosion of a parent’s sense of belonging, of their right to live in dignity, in the very spaces they have created for their family. It’s about how the once- rejoiced pillars of a household, the keepers of wisdom, are now treated as burden too heavy to carry. And this isn’t an isolated event. It’s a reflection of a disturbing, growing trend that’s creeping into households across Kashmir, where the elderly are not just neglected but actively mistreated by those they once reared.
Where does this cruelty come from? How does a child, once cradled in the arms of these same parents, grows into an adult capable of such insensitivity? It’s a question we must face upfront. Because this isn’t a story about one family; it’s a story about all of us, about a society that increasingly forgets the worth of its elders. The tragic paradox is that these parents, who should be treated in their twilight years with love and respect, now find themselves in a position where they must demand basic human decency — from their own blood.
The unsettling truth is that elder abuse is not always visible. It doesn’t always take the form of violent outbursts captured on smartphones. Sometimes, it’s quieter. It’s in the dismissive tone, the sunken eyes, the sharp words muttered pathetically. It’s in the isolation, the neglect, the refusal to let parents live with dignity in their own homes. It’s in the sons and daughters who think they’re doing enough, that an occasional call or visit suffices, while their parents sit alone, aching for the company they once took for granted.
How long before another video surfaces and becomes viral, another parent cries out for justice, and we are reminded again of the flaws in our societal foundation? Punishment alone cannot heal this wound. It’s about changing a mindset, a cultural shift that goes beyond individual acts of cruelty. It’s about instilling in every child, every adult, the understanding that our elders are not dispensable. They are not mere relics of the past to be pushed aside when they no longer serve a purpose. We need to inculcate that they are the foundation upon which our lives are built, and without them, we will lose not just our history, but our humanity.
In the quiet of their homes, behind closed doors, how many more parents are silently enduring the same fate? How many are waiting for someone to care enough to intervene, to say, “Enough! Elders deserve better”?
The time to act was yesterday, and today may already be too late. Because if even one parent lives in fear of their child, as long as even one elder is denied their rightful peace, we all shoulder the weight of that failure.