NOIDA: At 80, MG Singh (name changed) should have been surrounded by warmth, dignity, and care. Instead, he lives locked away in a room, weak and alone, in a place that feels more like a prison than a home. A surprise inspection by the UP Women’s Commission at Anand Niketan, a privately run old age home in Noida, has brought to light the bleak conditions endured by its elderly residents.
“I feel dizzy all the time. They just give me glucose and biscuits and lock me inside,” Singh told TOI during a government-led visit on Friday. Frail and disoriented, he spoke softly, recalling how things were different when he first arrived. “They used to serve eggs and butter. Not anymore. That’s why I’ve become so weak,” he said.
Singh, who identified himself as a retired doctor from Gujarat, was eventually taken home by his niece from Gurgaon. Defending the home’s actions, she said, “They can’t just take him away without informing us. He had set fire to the place once and threw water on electrical appliances. I’m grateful to the home for keeping him safe.”
Staff members at Anand Niketan admitted that restraints were used—but only, they said, under instructions from families. “Some residents try to harm themselves or others. Their families know, and they tell us to keep them tied,” one caretaker explained.
But the inspection revealed deeper, systemic neglect. Many residents suffer from serious mental health conditions that require constant supervision. Yet, the facility employs just 10 caretakers—five per shift—who are severely underpaid and untrained in medical or psychiatric care. Some haven’t studied beyond school.
“There’s no doctor here. We just do what we can. We work 12-hour shifts, every day, for just ₹6,000 a month,” one caretaker said.
The home was not without residents who appeared more accepting. “We get food on time, and I’ve had no issues,” said an elderly woman, visibly annoyed by the attention the inspection brought. “I haven’t been able to sleep since Thursday night because of all this fuss.”
Still, the inspection prompted urgent action. Three residents—two men and one woman—were shifted to a government-run shelter in Dankaur due to deteriorating health. One of them, a 69-year-old woman from Kerala, couldn’t recall anything beyond her first name. A private hospital prescription found in her belongings listed her full identity and noted she suffered from hyperthyroidism and delusions.
Another, an octogenarian man, was unable to communicate at all due to hearing loss.
Staff justified the use of restraints and confinement as necessary for managing mentally unwell residents. “If we didn’t restrain them, things would get out of control. We have no choice,” said one caretaker, acknowledging the toll of being under-equipped and overworked.
What the inspection laid bare was not just the poor infrastructure of the facility, but also the haunting reality of abandonment, where the twilight years of vulnerable elders are spent in isolation, mismanagement, and silence.