Dignity for All Ages: How Aashayein Supports India’s Forgotten Elderly
Walk through the narrow lanes of any low-income neighbourhood in India, and you’ll find someone sitting quietly outside a broken home. An old man staring at the road. A woman in her late seventies slowly folding her thin shawl. No one talks to them. No one really notices them. They’ve become invisible.
But they weren’t always.
These are mothers, fathers, grandparents people who built families, held jobs, raised children. Now, many live alone. Forgotten. Some with no food. Others too weak to walk to the nearest clinic. Most just crave a little conversation, a kind word, a reminder that they still matter.
At Aashayein, we refuse to let them disappear.
The Silent Struggle of India’s Elders
In a country where youth take center stage, the elderly are often pushed to the background. Once central to the family, many now find themselves isolated emotionally, financially, and physically.
Their children have moved away for work or stopped visiting.
Their bodies are aging faster than help arrives.
Their days are filled with silence.
And what hurts the most? It’s not the empty stomach. It’s the feeling of being left behind.
“I live alone now. My son went to another city for work and never came back,” says Kamla Devi, 78, from a settlement outside Ghaziabad. “I don’t blame him. But I wish he’d call sometimes.”
What We Do at Aashayein and Why It Matters
We started our elderly care initiative because we kept hearing the same heartbreaking story different names, different places, but the same pain. Loneliness. Neglect. Hunger.
We couldn’t ignore it.
We bring them food but also warmth.
Every month, our volunteers deliver groceries, medicines, and hygiene kits yes, the basics. But what really stays with the elders is the time. The small talk. The way we sit with them, ask how they’re feeling, laugh at their jokes. Sometimes, that's all they want.
We make sure someone checks in.
We keep track of who needs help, who’s fallen sick, who hasn’t been seen in a while. Our goal isn’t just to “serve” it’s to show up. Again and again.
“The ration bag is helpful,” says Ramanlal, 82, with a shy smile. “But I wait more for the knock on the door.”
We listen. That’s it. We just listen.
And sometimes, that changes everything.
Why This Work Is So Personal
No one wants to grow old feeling invisible.
No one should.
We’ve seen elders break into tears after a hug. We've had them hold our hands and not let go. We’ve celebrated forgotten birthdays with cupcakes. We’ve sat beside hospital beds where no one else showed up.
This work is heavy but it’s beautiful too. Because even in their pain, India’s elders still offer us their kindness, their stories, their blessings. All they want in return is to be seen.
How You Can Help
This isn’t a charity campaign. This is a call to be human.
Sponsor a care kit — ₹800 feeds an elder for a month.
Give your time — even one hour a week to visit someone.
Spread the word — maybe your voice is what brings us to another doorstep.
Because someday, we’ll all grow old. And what we hope for more than anything is to be remembered. Let’s not forget them today.