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In early 2012,a study by Pew Research Center,a think tank in Washington DC,US,found,for the first time,that over half of older Americans used the internet and an even higher share had mobile phones. “This is changing the way people gather,share,and create information. And it is changing the way they communicate and act in groups,” the study said. Home to over a 100 million senior citizens — expected to triple by 2050,constituting 20 per cent of the total population — India must brace for a similar transformation as a large community of retired professionals scans the internet for companionship,business opportunities,information and entertainment,and tries to imbibe a youth-dominated cyber culture.

Seventy-three-year-old Iti Misra from Kolkata,a retired career woman and public speaking coach,knows all about the “selfie”,the Oxford Dictionary’s word of the year. Not one to seek social approbation,she would never post a picture of herself,she says,but should the mood strike her,she wouldn’t have to try too hard: with an Android phone to access emails,news and social networks on the go and a Macbook at home,Misra is comfortable with technology and loves the internet for its readily accessible reservoirs of information. While on a 20-day road trip with a friend last month,she used a sophisticated GPS device to navigate her way through New Zealand. “I had never used one before but it was easy,” she says.

One of the most noticeable effects of seniors biting the digital bullet is evident in the way families now communicate. WhatsApp messages ricochet across the world,invites to new shopping websites and Facebook games are traded hotly and reminders of imminent pujas,with elaborate instructions to boot,regularly land up in inboxes. When 24-year-old Ritesh Rawal’s father,a retired accountant,began following him on Twitter last year,he knew it was the end of an era. The internet is like a giant college dormitory,says Rawal,and it is not cool to have parents lurking around. “My dad is 61 and I have always been proud of his flair for technology — for instance,he understands my interest in app development — but that was until he became more popular on Twitter,” says the medical student who lives in Mathikere,north Bangalore. “He began to spend much more time online and we had the same set of friends.” To keep the peace,both online and offline,his father agreed to adopt an alias and Rawal stopped airing his dirty linen in public.

Kalyan Varma,an award-winning wildlife photographer from Bangalore,counts his mother among his thousands of friends and followers on social networks. “I travel a lot and when I don’t call for a week,my mom doesn’t worry anymore because she knows where I am and what I am up to through Facebook,” he says. Vijaya Varma,57,says news travels fast in a connected world. It was a world unknown to her until three years ago,when her son and her daughter bought her an iPad. She had no reason to think the device would change her: she had never touched a computer before. But she would come to love the iPad’s intuitive interface and start following family and friends on Facebook and Instagram. She would even use the device for her interior décor business. “Now that I think about it,things were much harder before the internet. We would buy expensive design books and it would take days of going back and forth between me,the client and the karigar to choose a design,” she says,pausing in the middle of emailing a quote to a client in Whitefield.

From gingerly tweaking the volume controls on her father’s precious Philips radio as a young woman,Varma now gets restless when the broadband connection is down. She is a natural with the device,swiping through pages and pages of pictures of her grandson uploaded on Instagram,a photo sharing app,by her daughter. The last picture is of a 10-month-old child in cheery yellow,hugging a staircase. Varma knows it’s a great shot. She looks for inspiring pictures like this one,on Pinterest and other picture boards,to send to her clients. “I coordinated the interiors of my brother’s apartment building in Vizag entirely though emails. There was no hassle,no unnecessary travel,” she says.

Seniors new to computing seem to prefer compact,touchscreen devices to traditional desktops with their intimidating keyboards and crisscrossing cables. Chennai-based 70-something Suguna Rangaswamy says her Samsung tablet,acquired about seven months ago,is always by her side. “After breakfast,it’s the first thing I pick up,” she says. Rangaswamy checks her email,shares pictures with her son in the US,Skypes with her daughter in Nairobi and looks for inspiration for the soft toys that she hand-stitches as a hobby. “I am still learning how to put the tablet to good use. I would like to draw on it too,” she says.

The perils of the internet loom large for seniors as they do for minors: Rangaswamy,for instance,is yet to get down to the nitty gritty of Facebook privacy settings and often finds her posts reaching a larger audience than she intended. “Seniors tend to get a whole lot of spam and their email IDs get hijacked. They must learn the basics of security before they can explore the internet freely,” says AV Ramani,who,at 75,continues to serve as senior vice-president of R&D for the TTK group of companies in Bangalore. Ramani is no stranger to technology,having devoted decades of his life to the development of an artificial heart valve. He has now signed up for an online course in web science offered by Southampton University to study the origins of and the technologies behind the world wide web. According to him,senior citizens online represent a business opportunity that is yet to be exploited. “Senior netizens are the orphans of the tech community. There aren’t many ads or apps targeted specifically at them. Even our ‘smart’ devices aren’t senior-friendly,” he says.

The number of older users on connected devices hasn’t yet reached critical mass,argues Mumbai entrepreneur Ishita Sukhadwala,who founded Verdurez,a social network for elderly Indians,four years ago. While Verdurez does not disclose the number of members on board,it harbours an active community of seniors looking to expand their social circles. “At times,it is easier to relate to people who are undergoing similar lifestyle changes — in this case,retirement,empty nest syndrome,bereavement,loneliness and isolation which comes with age. Verdurez offers elderly Indians a virtual home where they can just be,where they are not judged by their appearance or social standing or financial status or professional background. Age is the factor that unites them and enables them,” Sukhadwala says.

Chennai-based VA Sambandam,a 64-year-old marketing manager who retired in 2006,spends two to three hours online every day,dividing the time between Verdurez,Facebook,answering emails and paying utility bills. Sambandam and his wife Hemamalini have been members of Verdurez for three years and say they have made many friends. “We have met at least a dozen people on Verdurez whom we now see socially. Online relationships need not always be superficial,” Sambandam says. Verdurez regularly organises local meetups for members,besides an annual national meet. Because for the 60-plus generation,says Sambandam,virtual friends are like the friends you make on a train journey — they fade into the background as the train departs.

Ironically,for a generation that has been steadfast about its conservative social mores,seniors are on the lookout for that rare space and time where they do not have to conform,says Sampath. “They go to the internet to unwind,to be someone other than the father or the grandmother they are supposed to be,” he says. It is the ultimate escapism,a liberating world of anonymity where they can pretend to be nubile young women again and live out a fantasy. Older people on the internet also surf porn websites,says Sambandam. “The web is all about indulging your curiosity,” he says.

It was curiosity that led 66-year-old Aruna Bhalachandra Mhaskar,an alumnus of the Tata Institute of Social Sciences,Mumbai,to the internet. Working on projects in rural parts of the country in the early ’90s,she would find her younger colleagues hunched over computers. “As I was the head of the monitoring department,I thought I must indulge in a little sleuthing. I made a young colleague teach me how to use the computer secretly. I realised that many of our volunteers would play games all day,” she says laughing. Mhaskar went on to buy her own computer in 1996,but got an internet connection in 2000. “My brother lives in the US,that’s how we stay connected. Besides,my batchmates stay in touch through social networking. We meet every year,” she says.

For 59-year-old Mumbai resident Pushpa Baldawa,grandmother to three children,life without the internet seems unimaginable. To leverage her enthusiasm for technology — which ranges from sending medical reports to the doctor through WhatsApp to exploring social media — Baldawa’s daughter Meeta Kabra roped her in to help out with her film reviews website,WOGMA. “I end up working the most on weekends,when people go berserk on social media with their reviews. I collate all the information to feed into my daughter’s website,” Baldawa says. But it’s not just work that drives her internet use. She loves the iPad and recently installed a Hindi keyboard app. “As a personal project,I typed out some popular aartis and took print-outs to circulate among my grandchildren,” says Baldawa,who also enjoys reading Premchand’s books on the Kindle app. She recently created a Pinterest profile to keep up with the latest trends in arts and crafts. “When I travel,I carry my son’s internet dongle because I like to be connected,” she says.

This connectedness often comes at a cost. Internet addiction is a threat that may crowd out meaningful relationships and activities,says Ashoke Chatterjee,a retired executive director of the National Institute of Design,Ahmedabad,who now consults for the Crafts Council of India. Chatterjee says he is addicted to the internet because he uses it all the time for work. “I alternately love it,for what it can do for causes and people,and hate it,for its intrusion and demand on time and attention,” he says.

Kolkata-based Anjali Bag,65,is more than a little shy about her latest possession — a leather-covered iPad. “My son and daughter gifted it to me when I visited them in the US a few months ago. They felt I needed a companion,” she says. A State Bank of India employee for close to two decades,Bag is comfortable with technology and has filled her device with Bengali news and entertainment apps,but her physical world has shrunk dramatically. “We used to talk about youngsters with their nose buried in their laptops or smartphones. But I too have neglected certain aspects of my life to gain access to this new world. I don’t read as much and hardly interact with my neighbours,” she says.

But then there are others whom the internet has made more connected: for Pune-based Prabha Nene,76,it has also put her in touch with dealers of spare parts for her vintage 1934 Austin 7,an iconic British small car,fondly known as Baby Austin. A former career woman and an auto enthusiast,Nene says the parts are not easily available in India. “I connect with people from across borders through social networking sites to procure the parts,” she says. She is fond of Facebook too,though she cannot be bothered to update it regularly. “I like to look at peoples’ walls. That interests me. And I read a lot on Wikipedia,” she says.

Will age no bar will be the drumbeat of a digital world? It’s early days yet for India’s senior netizens. n

Inputs by Prajakta Hebbar,Premankur Biswas and Meenakshi Iyer