A recent tragedy in Bengaluru involving a retired ISRO employee allegedly killing his wife, reportedly out of fear about who would care for her after his death, has shaken many people far beyond the city where it occurred. Early reports describe a deeply distressing situation shaped by emotional strain, ageing, isolation, and anxiety about the future. Police have said the case is under investigation.
But for many readers, the incident has stirred a painful question that goes beyond crime and law:
What is the meaning of educating our children for success if, in the end, parents are left alone in old age—needing not money, but presence?
It is a hard question. And it deserves an honest answer.
Education is not the problem. Education without values is.
In moments of grief and anger, it is easy to say: Why educate children if they go abroad, build careers, and leave their parents behind?
Yet that conclusion, though emotionally understandable, is too simple.
Education itself is not the enemy. In fact, education is what gives children dignity, opportunity, independence, and the ability to support families. The real problem begins when education is reduced to only three outcomes: degree, salary, status.
If education produces successful professionals but not responsible human beings, then something is broken—not in education as a concept, but in the way we define success.
We have taught many children how to compete. We have not taught enough of them how to remain connected. The new tragedy of modern success
Across South Asia and in many migrant families worldwide, a familiar pattern is emerging. Parents make sacrifices for decades—fees, coaching, hostels, language training, migration paperwork, emotional support—so that their children can “settle well.” Often, “settle well” means one thing: settle abroad.
And when the child succeeds, everyone celebrates. The photos are shared. The degrees are framed. The job offer is announced. The visa is a family victory.
But slowly, another reality enters the home: parents age, illnesses multiply, mobility decreases, social circles shrink, loneliness deepens.
At that stage, parents often discover a painful truth: financial support can arrive on time, but human presence cannot always be couriered across continents.
A bank transfer can pay for medicine. It cannot sit beside a mother in silence. It cannot notice a father’s depression. It cannot replace the reassuring sentence: “I am here.” Let us be fair: distance does not always mean neglect.
At the same time, fairness matters. Not every child abroad is careless. Many sons and daughters living overseas are deeply devoted. They call daily, visit regularly, arrange medical care, manage emergencies, and support their parents with extraordinary discipline and love.
And many children living in the same city neglect their parents too.
So the issue is not simply “abroad versus at home.”
The issue is responsibility versus convenience.
Distance can be real. Visa restrictions are real. Work pressure is real. Children may have young families, demanding jobs, or immigration limitations. These are not excuses—but they are realities. If we ignore them, we moralize the problem instead of solving it.
This is why the Bengaluru incident, tragic as it is, should not be used to condemn all children who migrate. It should instead push us to ask a more serious question:
Are we preparing families for old age—or only preparing children for careers?
The question we should ask our education system
The real crisis is not that children are getting educated. The crisis is that our educational and social culture often treats success as complete once a child gets: a degree, a job, a foreign address.
Where, in this model, do we teach: filial duty, elder care planning, emotional literacy, gratitude, community responsibility, mental health awareness?
If a child can solve complex equations, code systems, manage portfolios, and lead teams—but cannot make time for ageing parents—then society must ask whether it has confused qualification with character.
Education must not only prepare students to earn.
It must prepare them to belong.
Presence is not only physical—yet it must be planned
There is another difficult truth: in a globalized world, not every child can live with parents. Migration will continue. Careers will move people across countries. Families will remain transnational.
So the solution cannot be simply: “Don’t send children abroad.”
The solution is more mature—and more demanding.
Families must begin discussing ageing, care, and emotional support before a crisis. Parents and children should plan together: Who will respond in a medical emergency? Which relatives, neighbours, or friends can be contacted immediately? What is the local support network? How often will meaningful visits happen? Who monitors mental health, not just finances? What arrangements exist if one parent dies first?
These conversations are uncomfortable, but necessary. Silence is not love. Planning is.
A better dream for parents
Parents should continue educating their children. They should continue dreaming big. They should continue celebrating ambition. But perhaps the dream needs one correction.
Not just: “My child should become successful.” Also:“My child should remain humane.” Not just: “My child should settle abroad.” Also: “My child should never emotionally migrate away from family.”
This is where values matter—not as moral slogans, but as daily habits: calling, listening, visiting, planning, staying involved, noticing distress, and showing up.
The deeper lesson
The Bengaluru incident is first a human tragedy, then a criminal matter, and also a social warning. It exposes a fear many ageing parents quietly carry: not poverty, but abandonment; not hunger, but helplessness; not lack of money, but lack of presence. Reports indicate the case remains under police investigation, and the facts will be settled through due process. If this moment leads us to question education, let us question it correctly.
The answer is not to educate less. The answer is to educate better.
We need an education that builds: competence and conscience, mobility and memory, success and responsibility.
Because a society that produces brilliant careers, but lonely parents is not truly educated yet.
The writer is a member of Faculty of Mathematics, Department of General Education HUC, Ajman, UAE Email: reyaz56@gmail.com
