The invisible parallel life of some working professionals

A lot has changed about professional life over the past few years.

The pandemic changed workplace expectations.

Economic uncertainty changed career decisions.

AI is now changing the nature of work itself.

But I think another shift is slowly becoming impossible to ignore.

Caregiving.

Especially taking care of aging parents.

India is going to age rapidly over the next two decades.

According to UNFPA’s India Ageing Report, nearly 319 million Indians will be above 60 by 2050.

Globally too, WHO estimates the 60+ population will grow from 1 billion in 2020 to 2.1 billion by 2050.

At the same time:

families are getting smaller, children are moving away for work, and people are living longer, often with chronic health conditions needing continuous support.

I think many professionals in their late 30s, 40s and 50s are already beginning to feel this pressure, even if they rarely talk about it openly.

And in India, caregiving is often not only emotional and logistical.

It becomes financial too.

Many elderly parents remain financially dependent on their children well into old age.

Sometimes because pensions are inadequate.

Sometimes because savings were exhausted earlier in life.

And sometimes because healthcare costs simply keep rising faster than expected.

So middle-aged professionals today are often managing children’s education, EMIs, their own future planning, and recurring healthcare expenses for parents — all at the same time.

Hospital bills.

Medicines.

Diagnostics.

Attendants.

Emergency care.

Long-term treatment.

That creates a kind of silent financial anxiety people rarely speak about openly.

Because caregiving usually doesn’t arrive dramatically.

It slowly enters your routine.

A doctor appointment here.

Some tests.

Helping parents navigate hospitals.

Then suddenly there are scans, medicines, repeat consultations, physiotherapy, insurance approvals, emergency calls during workdays.

And meanwhile work itself has not become simpler.

Most professionals are already working 9–12 hour days or even more.

Global teams.

Late evening calls.

Constant notifications.

And caregiving becomes this invisible second shift running alongside work.

What makes it exhausting is not only the physical effort.

It’s the mental occupation.

Even during meetings, part of your mind is elsewhere.

Did mom take her medication? Did the reports come? Should I postpone travel? Can I even take a more demanding role right now?

Professionally people continue functioning.

Deadlines get met.

Targets get achieved.

But internally there’s a constant layer of cognitive load nobody really sees.

And over time, careers quietly start adjusting around caregiving.

People avoid relocation.

Turn down opportunities.

Travel less.

Stay in stable jobs longer than they actually want to.

Sometimes leave balances disappear into hospital visits instead of vacations.

And in many cases, people are eventually forced to leave jobs altogether.

Not because ambition disappeared.

But because the logistics stop being sustainable.

What also becomes complicated — and far less openly discussed — is resentment.

Not necessarily toward parents.

Mostly toward the situation.

Toward siblings who participate less.

Toward careers that now feel constrained.

Toward the endlessness of responsibility.

Because caregiving stretched across years changes people emotionally.

Especially when there’s no pause.

Even in families with siblings, caregiving rarely gets distributed equally.

One sibling usually ends up carrying most of it.

The one living closest.

The daughter.

The unmarried sibling.

Or simply the “responsible” one.

Over time, that imbalance quietly builds frustration.

And for people without siblings, the pressure is even sharper.

There’s no fallback system.

No rotation.

No one to temporarily take over when exhaustion hits.

Globally, nearly 80% of eldercare is still provided informally by families rather than formal systems.

According to the International Labour Organization, 748 million people are outside the labor force because of unpaid caregiving responsibilities — the vast majority being women.

And studies show nearly 30–40% of caregivers experience anxiety or depression over time.

One line from Johns Hopkins- and NIH-funded caregiving researcher and CareYaya CEO Neal K. Shah — whose work I’ve been reading quite a bit lately — stayed with me.

He described family caregivers as “the backbone of our care infrastructure, and they’re in crisis.”

And honestly, that feels accurate.

Shah has written about how unpaid caregivers in the US contribute care work valued at nearly $600 billion annually, based on AARP estimates.

He has also referenced studies showing caregivers can lose hundreds of thousands of dollars across their lifetime because of reduced earnings, slower career progression, and workforce exits linked to caregiving responsibilities.

And honestly, India may face an even harder version of this over time.

Because unlike many Western countries, India still has limited formal eldercare systems, lower insurance penetration, fragmented long-term care support, and a cultural expectation that families will absorb most caregiving responsibilities privately.

Which means much of the economic and emotional burden gets transferred directly onto working professionals and households.

Quietly.

Without systems fully prepared for it.

I think over the next decade caregiving will stop being viewed as only a personal issue.

It’s going to affect retention, productivity, relocation, leadership development, and workforce participation in ways we still underestimate.

Because the future of work will not be shaped only by AI or economic cycles.

It will also be shaped by people trying to sustain careers while taking care of aging parents for years at a stretch.

I’ve been thinking about this space quite a bit lately, and honestly I feel we still haven’t begun having enough serious conversations around caregiving as a workforce and societal reality in India.

One day, we probably will.