R2I Chapter 9. Reconnecting with life in India after Return

My Return to India (R2I) story > R2I Chapter 9

A couple of months after we returned, Suja and I realized that we were moving past our honeymoon phase rather quickly. Vijay had started school, and we began settling into our new routine.

While things seemed to be placid, a few dynamics began to play out at home. Mom, who had been desperate for our help and wanted us back began to realize that she got more than what she bargained for; her routine at home was upended. I would be oversimplifying the dynamics that played out between my mom, who considered herself as the traditional patriarch of the household and Suja. Especially since mom’s life was upended when Suja and I began making our plans that would disrupt the existing order.

Change cuts both ways

It was small things like Suja sharing ‘her’ kitchen, which shouldn’t have come as a surprise. Our dietary preferences had been shaped by the years living in the west. Although Suja and I preferred South Indian cuisine while at home, even in America, our tolerance for highly spicy, oily food and curries had been tempered.

While we were prepared for the huge mindshift while returning to India, it was an significant change for my parents too.  This rhythm at home was certainly disrupted by the arrival of Suja, Vijay and me. Simple things like the rush to get Vijay ready for school meant the earlier routine that Mom and Dad were used to was shifting.

 

Skeletons from the cupboard come tumbling

About six months into this new routine in Bangalore, I began taking a greater interest in dad’s financial affairs. He would go to the local branch of the State bank with mom every month. He would get his passbook updated, check the status of his pension deposit before withdrawing cash for monthly expenses.

My dad had also surrounded himself with a small cadre of advisors – a family friend and auditor Suresh, who checked on his pension and helped file dad’s taxes. Another was Ramakrishna, an investment advisor who dropped in for a weekly chat.

While reviewing some paperwork and bills, I realized that the property tax on our house was overdue. My dad hadn’t made a payment for a couple of years and BBMP, the city council had sent a notice asking for payment of the due and a fine for the arrears.

On asking my dad, he initially shrugged it off saying he ‘forgot’ about the payment. I persisted and asked him and mom about a few days later and he replied, “I just assumed the bank would take care of the payment.”

I was surprised by this response since my parents had been otherwise diligent in making such payments of fees and bills in the past. The next time Suresh came home to catch up with my parents, I asked about the property tax. He casually remarked “Oh, it is probably because of the reverse mortgage. Your dad may have assumed that since the bank now owns the title to the property, he doesn’t have to bother about property taxes.”

Suresh went on to explain that a couple of years ago, my dad had asked him to prepare some paperwork for a bank loan, but eventually decided to cash-in on the equity of the house by taking a reverse mortgage instead. My parents had signed over the deed and taken a “lump sum” payment though he wasn’t aware of how and where they used the proceeds.

It was as if a bomb had exploded in my head. I went quiet, trying to absorb this information. It was shocking to think my parents had the need to reverse-mortgage the house they were living in and did so without consulting or informing their sons.

As a retired military officer, my dad was entitled to a rather handsome pension. By Indian standards the amount was more than sufficient to cover living expenses and life’s incidentals. In addition, my parents were entitled to access to an excellent healthcare and the Military Hospital system. The house and car loans had been paid off years ago and I had assumed my parents were living a financially care-free life.

In addition to dad’s savings and pension, my brother and I sent occasional remittances in dollars and pounds. When converted to Indian rupees, the remittances also amounted a tidy next egg.

Later that evening, I decided to follow up with my parents about this. my mom conveniently feigned ignorance over the financial matters. My dad was a bit evasive and eventually admitted it was done to “pursue some investments” in a parcel of land that his investment advisor, Ramakrishna was managing.

The next time Ramakrishna came by to meet dad, I asked him to explain the details of their ‘investment.’ He said that it was a half-acre land in a village in the outskirts of the city that had been owned by a widow for a couple of decades. She had passed away after receiving the amount and executing a sale agreement, but before the title to the land was registered in my dad’s name.

The illiterate widow’s thumb impression on official documents were smudged and couldn’t be easily authenticated. The widow’s next-of-kin were untraceable, and the authorities were unwilling to transfer the title in Dad’s favor till a search of encumbrance was completed.

After a bit of digging, I discovered that my dad had reverse-mortgaged our house, the primary asset and the place where my parents were living their sunset years. (my experience with Reverse Mortgage)

 Decoupling emotions from financial and other matters

In this narrative, I’ve tried to downplay the emotional roller coaster I was undergoing as these incidents were unraveling; and I guess I wasn’t alone. We frequently read of ‘elderly couple’ being misguided and swindled of their savings, and here was an example we were living through.

The next time Ramakrishna came by to meet dad, I asked him to explain the details of the ‘investment’ and documentation. I told him I wanted to understand where the funds from the reverse mortgage had gone.  Ramakrishna agreed that investing in that property was a ‘calculated risk’ and much of the funds from the mortgage had gone in unsuccessfully trying to grease the palms of officials to get the documentation processed. I told him that it was time to cut our losses and that I would ‘write off’ the expenses and requested him for all the documents pertaining to that property.

Even with all the evidence in front of them, my parents were unwilling to accept that they had indeed been duped by a ‘well-wisher’. Even five years later as I write this, the title to that parcel of land hasn’t got resolved despite several petitions to authorities.

While I was trying hard to untie the Gordian Knot, it was a bit frustrating to see Manoj not only bury his head in the sand over the affair, while he was okay justifying dad’s decision. There was a grain of truth to it – after all, my parents were adults who could act with their free will. Never mind the fact that they were physically incapable of managing their affairs and had called Suja and me back to help. They couldn’t have it both ways. I was finding it hard to explain to Manoj that we couldn’t continue to live in the house with the uncertainty of its mortgage weighing in on my mind. 

Suja and I had several discussions on this topic and agreed that it was futile for me to carry the emotional baggage over their financial debacle. We had taken a conscious decision to relocate to be around for my parents and there was no turning back. It was time to forget-and-forgive and move forward.

What does this mean to you?

While my parent’s financial debacle may be an outlier, each family has its share of skeletons in the cupboard.  The reason for illustrating this episode in the book is to show a dimension of return-to-India – and those of us with families and roots left behind might also to discover some old, unresolved issues or buried treasures.

Over the years, I talked to friends and peers about such family dynamics and realized our situation wasn’t unique. While the small-scale dynamics were playing our in our nuclear family, those with extended families and a wider circle of close-knit relatives back home are likely to encounter other dynamics they may have to work through.

Those of us who migrate to foreign lands may lose touch with the happenings “back home,” and may be confronted with some of the seemingly ‘minor’ things that may snowball after they return.

For some, returning back to India after a few decades may open old wounds and feelings but one must be prepared to address them head on, or seek the help of neutral parties – friends or well-wishers.