Chai pe Charcha
Our visit to Maria’s Home for the Aged on May 14 marked a meaningful first—our very first time visiting an old age home outside our home state. Stepping into unfamiliar surroundings, we were welcomed with warmth that instantly felt like family. The 48 residents greeted us with smiles, open arms, and a quiet resilience that needed no introduction. In that new place, miles from home, we found something unexpectedly familiar: belonging.
The afternoon unfolded through stories—tales of army life, young love, unspoken grief, and the joy of old memories. Each conversation was honest, sometimes heavy, but always human. Their eyes didn’t just tell stories; they invited us into their lives. With tea in hand and laughter filling the room, we felt something shift. These weren’t just moments of dialogue, but exchanges of heart. Listening became more than polite presence—it became an act of care.
As I left Maria’s Home, one thought wouldn’t let go: why do we even need old age homes? Why do strangers often love our elders more gently than their own? That visit didn’t end at the gate—it travelled home with me as a silent promise. To keep showing up. To listen deeper. And to make sure no wisdom sits in silence, unseen and unheard.
