On October 13, Kerala tabled a bill in its assembly to protect its elderly, and it covers things most families have never discussed.

Under the bill, home nursing agencies would have to register, and live-in caregivers would need police verification every year. Doctors and care homes that suspect an elderly person is being abused would have 48 hours to report it.

It would also recognise living wills, with the details left to future guidelines.

Because so many of its seniors now live alone while their children work abroad. Most of those children, I'd guess, have never sat down with their parents to talk about any of it.

I hadn't either.

I knew every charge on that bill. But reading about Kerala, I realised I had never asked a single question about what comes after discharge.

What would his savings cover if he needed help at home for years? Which policy, which account, and who signs if he can't?

So I went looking.

Start with income.

Then insurance.

Most of us assume the family floater takes care of old age. Read the exclusions. Since 2019, IRDAI has standardised the wording of one that sits in most health policies in the country: custodial care, at home or in a nursing facility, is not covered.

That means help with bathing, dressing and moving around, which is what someone needs for years after a stroke. Insurance pays for the surgery and a few weeks of follow-up bills, and almost nothing for the long-term care that follows.

What does that care cost?

There's no official data, but one elder-care provider's 2026 guide to Mumbai puts 24-hour live-in nursing at ₹55,000 to ₹90,000 a month. At ₹60,000 a month, four years comes to nearly ₹29 lakh, before medicines and physio.

And this isn't a rare scenario.

In India's largest survey on ageing, about a quarter of households with older members faced catastrophic health spending, rising to a third where the elderly depended most on the family.

Say you decide professional care is the answer.

According to a September report by JLL and the Association of Senior Living India, India has roughly 2,100 organised assisted-living beds. In 2022 the country had 149 million people over 60.

That works out to one bed for roughly every 71,000 of them.

None of this is hidden. So why don't we look?

In 2009, three economists studied how often Swedish investors logged in to check their pension portfolios.

When markets rose, people checked more often. When markets fell, they logged in less.

The information was free and one click away. People still chose not to see it, because looking at a loss makes it real.

The researchers called it the ostrich effect, a term first used by two Israeli economists.

A later study using Vanguard data found it was more common among older and wealthier investors, the people who would tell you they're on top of their money.

Medicine has a harsher version.

Huntington's disease is hereditary, and a genetic test can tell you with certainty whether you'll get it.

Not knowing let them feel fine for a little longer. That's what most of us are doing with our parents.

We know they will age, and we know someone will need care. We don't ask for the number, because the number would force us to picture the decline.

The ostrich effect shows up everywhere, and we've added a few layers of our own.

In most Indian homes, asking your father how much he has saved sounds like you're eyeing the inheritance. Ask about a living will and it sounds like you're planning his funeral.

So we don't ask, and we call it respect.

Our parents don't raise it either. Many of them grew up with "beta hai na" as their retirement plan. Saying out loud that they might need paid help feels like admitting that plan didn't work.

Then there are the siblings.

Three siblings in three cities are running the same experiment. Each one assumes another has Mummy's policy number.

When nobody decides, the care still gets done. It falls on whoever lives closest, and that is usually a woman.

In the 2024 Time Use Survey, 41% of Indian women aged 15 to 59 did unpaid caregiving for household members, compared with 21.4% of men. India doesn't track how many careers stall because of it.

"We'll take care of them at home" is a good answer, but only once someone has worked out the money, who does the caring, and from when. Most families haven't.

Find out what they have.

List every pension, FD, policy, nominee and login. Then check whether the policy pays for anything after discharge. It probably won't cover long-term care, and that's the gap you'll be filling.

Put it in one file.

Medical history, daily medicines, doctors, and a living will. Since January 2023, a living will only needs two witnesses and a notary or gazetted officer. You no longer need a magistrate.

Get the siblings on one call.

Give each job a name: money, medical, and whoever lives closest.

The question I keep asking myself is this: if Papa had a stroke tonight, do I know who calls whom, and who pays for what?

If your answer is no, have that conversation this Sunday. It's awkward for about ten minutes.

Hit reply and tell me: what's the one thing about your parents' money or health you've been putting off asking?

I read every email.

Until next week,
Ritesh