Retired, Not Rooted (Yet)

We thought we had it all figured out.

We retired in Bengaluru — the Garden City, the IT capital, cosmopolitan and comfortable. Our friends were here, many getaways nearby and our morning walk group doubled as therapy and free entertainment.

But somewhere between the honking traffic and the 2-hour ride to the airport, a quiet question crept in. Is this the city we want to grow old in?

Back in the Day, It Was Simple

Not long ago, the answer was simpler — you retired and moved in with your kids. But today? Everyone wants their space. Including us.

Flats are smaller, lives are busier, and no one wants to live under the same roof — unless it’s a duplex with separate kitchens, entrances, and emotional boundaries. The best-case scenario now? A flat in the same complex. Close enough to offer help with the grandkids (if any), but far enough to watch your own TV volume in peace.

But even that is not such a simple decision anymore!

The “Move Abroad?” Fantasy (and Reality Check)

Many of our children now live overseas. So, naturally, the frequently asked question is:
“Why don’t you just move abroad and be near them?”

Tempting. Maybe. But let’s talk reality.

Yes, the lawns are manicured. The bins are labelled. But the doorbell doesn’t ring.
No sabziwala shouting “ Aloo Pyaaz le lo” or the BBMP van singing “ Swaach Baraat me aapka yogdaan”, no maid gossip, no impromptu chai invites from neighbours.

It’s just you, silence, and maybe a squirrel.

The weekly social outing is probably a trip to Costco. You depend on your children for everything — from doctor visits to dinner plans. Even meeting close relatives requires a calendar invite. You go for a walk, and the next human you spot is after 30 minutes — usually walking their dog and definitely not looking to chat.

It is not for everyone. And while it may work for some, the silence can be deafening, especially when you’re used to life that hums with background noise.

City Living: Love-Hate Story

Of course, it’s not like Indian metros are paradise either. Delhi, Mumbai, Chennai, Bengaluru — the congestion, pollution, and sheer effort it takes to reach a marriage event 6 km away is no joke.

Yes, the cities offer theatre, clubs, doctors you trust, and enough restaurants to never cook again. Some of our friends are city loyalists who’d rather fight traffic than miss their Thursday bridge game.

The other choice being considered is whether one should buy a flat close to these amenities. But it comes with a hefty tag – Rs 10 crore onwards! No, thank you.

Renting sounds good — until your landlord decides their niece wants the flat. At this age, we like our homes and our blood pressure to be stable.

 Going Back to Your Roots? Maybe Not

“Just move back to your hometown!”

It’s always said with love — but not always with logic.

Some places are too hot. Others have too much family. (read: expectations, involvement, surveillance). And let’s face it — it’s been decades. The town has changed, and so have we.

The familiar places aren’t so familiar anymore. Old friends have moved on, and making new ones at this age isn’t easy.

What once felt like home might now feel like a memory — warm, but no longer livable.

Sometimes, the roots are still there. But the soil? Not quite the same.

 The Hills Are Alive… For a While

Then there’s the “let’s move to the mountains” phase.

Manali, Coorg, Coonoor — the names roll off the tongue like travel poetry.

Fresh air. Slow walks. Meditation. A good book with a Himalayan view.

Sounds dreamy… for 10 days.

Will we really love it all year round? Will there be a doctor when we need one? A hospital nearby? A Wi-Fi connection that doesn’t disappear every time a cloud passes?

Reality check: peace and panic often travel together in small towns.

 Our People, Our Pillars

But what truly anchors us is our people.

Over the years, we haven’t just built houses — we’ve built rhythms, relationships, and a quiet web of everyday support.

It’s the chemist who knows your prescription before you say a word. The coffee guy gets your sugarless, extra-strong filter coffee just right — no explanations needed. At this age, starting over is less about finding a new house and more about wondering:

Will I find people who truly “get” me again?

Loneliness isn’t about being alone. It’s about not being known.

Maybe the Answer Is… Seasons, Not Settlements

Lately, a few of us have been floating a new idea:

Don’t choose one place — choose a few.

Rent an Airbnb in Manali or Goa for a couple of months. If it works, great. If not, try Dharamsala next time. Visit the kids abroad for a few weeks (with a flexible return ticket, of course).

Live life in seasons. Spend part of the year where your people are. Part of it is where your peace is. No bold moves, no dramatic farewells. Just a rotating menu of homes as per your moods.

 The Final Answer? Still Pending

As of now, no one’s moved. No one’s sold a house or bought a villa in Coonoor. No cottages booked, no mountain goats befriended.

It’s all still up in the air — like most retirement plans.

Maybe there’s no perfect place. Just evolving versions of home.

Maybe the real retirement plan is to keep asking, keep exploring, and keep enough flexibility to change your mind over the next cup of coffee.

P.S. If you’re a regular reader of my articles, you may have noticed — coffee tends to sneak in often. What can I say? It’s my favourite co-author. ?

Iti Mattoo

Iti Mattoo, retired after 30 years in the IT industry, now enjoying her creative pursuits.