Decoding internal worlds of child-free women

Over a period of time, I’ve established a comfortable relationship with the idea of being alone.

Last week, an uncle living in Delhi invited me for a Zoom gathering. The intent was noble — checking on the young and the restless on how they were coping during the pandemic. A few cousins spoke of how their kids kept them on their toes, while the younger ones talked about their search for a suitable life partner. Caught between the two, I was the odd one out — a married woman in her 30s with nothing really to run after. I told my uncle I was spending my time reading, writing, working and pontificating. He didn’t see what I could. Part-inquisitive, part-worried, he inched towards a no-go area.

“Isn’t it time to have family?” he asked sheepishly.

“I already have one, na,” I responded, pointing to a photo of my spouse in the background.

“But who is going to take care of both of you in the old age?” he continued.

I was speechless. Not because I did not have an answer to my uncle’s question, but because I wasn’t sure if he’d have liked it. It did not matter that it was a personal question because, personal — in big, fat Indian families — is political. So, you have everyone, their first, second and third cousin barging right in and tampering with the sanctity of that space. And reading between the silences is not their forte.

What has often baffled me is how, to many, having a child serves the singular purpose of having someone take care of them in old age. There are two major problems with that thought. First, we assume that old age translates into a resigned acceptance of life, where people instead of leading their lives are happy to be led. Secondly, burdening the child with our expectation that masquerades as a virtue. Popular Indian culture validates this line of thinking where individuals who move out of the house are seen as being selfish (even K Jo would have us believe ‘it’s all about loving your parents’). And selfish is unacceptable. If that be so, is having a child with the idea that s/he will take care of you in old age not equally selfish?

The rationale often given is because they took care of you once. But relationships need not be transactional. Yes, the young do not know what it is like to be old. But in this day and age, even the old would not know what it is like to be young. We have inhabited a world that demands more out of us. For women, it not only means stepping out into the world and making something of themselves, but also ticking the boxes of conventional life. The balancing act is glorified because it is made to look easy. It isn’t.

We are often told to reserve the sum total of our emotions for our offsprings. There is nothing wrong should you choose to do so at your own will. But for many of us, the internal world is important and demands preservation. It constitutes the passions our daily lives don’t allow us to pursue, where a meaningful conversation with a friend, reading a book, giving expression to one’s thoughts on paper, bring as much joy. It’s not that you escape parenting in this world. If not a friend or a cousin, you end up parenting your parents, providing support and care from a distance. This world needs just as much nurturing because it’s not without purpose.

Over a period of time, I’ve established a comfortable relationship with the idea of being alone. I find I can hear myself better when there is no one to run or look after but myself. Perhaps this love affair with loneliness is shortlived, because I know ultimately someone will seek me. Will it be the same when my partner and I grow old and one of us outlives the other? What if the one who lives longer also succumbs to the vulnerability of old age? Perhaps one of us will find a way. Don’t we all?

anamika@khaleejtimes.com