AP PHOTOS: At a home for India’s unwanted elders, faces of pain and resilience

The children they raised do not come here. The grandchildren who brought a sparkle to their eyes no longer climb into their laps. No siblings or in-laws or nephews or neighbors arrive either.

This is not a place accustomed to visitors.

The Saint Hardyal Educational and Orphans Welfare Society is a refuge for those who epitomize a troubling trend in India: Older people abandoned by their families.

Here in Garhmukteshwar, on a rural patch of northern India about a 90-minute drive from New Delhi, these outcasts live out their final days among scores of others who have nowhere else to go.

A smattering of those who come here have no close relatives on whom to rely. Others left their homes on their own accord, often driven by smoldering family feuds, abuse or neglect. In the worst cases, they were left to die on the streets, turned away by their own children.

This series of portraits by David Goldman of The Associated Press, all taken on April 18 at Saint Hardyal in Garhmukteshwar, captures the faces of the people who call it home.

Come down the dirt road. Come past the shrieking metal gate. Come to the halls of this shelter and the bedsides of these castaways and witness India’s secret shame.

Munia Devi, who does not know her age, says her home life was marked by abuse before she was abandoned at a train station. Her son hit her with bamboo and broke her arm. “They took my money. That’s all they cared for,” she says.

Rajhu Phooljale, who is about 65, was badly hurt and left blind from a hit-and-run accident. His sons deserted him at a hospital far from their home. “I never thought my sons would do this,” he says.

Chhoti, who is about 70, says her children abandoned her and her husband at a faraway temple. They lived there for more than eight years before being brought to the center.

Akbar Babba, who is about 70, spent two years living on the streets after his children forced him from his home. When he was found, he had chronic infections, including one that forced his left eye to be removed. “These days,” he says, “no one cares about others.”

Amirchand Sharma, who is about 65, says after he was hit by a motorist and left paralyzed, his sons drove him several hours away and left him at the river banks. “They said, ‘Throw him away,’” he says.

Bharti Mitra, who is about 70, arrived at the home after she was hurt and no relatives would help. Asked if she misses her family, she says: “Even if I do, what is the use?”

Shushila Jain, who is about 80, says she was forced to leave home over a toxic situation with her daughter-in-law. “I thought I would also be taken care of,” she says after spending her life caring for four children, “but it was something else in my fate.”

Vijaya Lakshmi, who is about 85, was part of a well-educated Mumbai family. Her husband died and she then sold everything she had to pay for her son’s cancer treatment. After he died, she had no other relatives willing to help.

Jugal Kishore, who is about 65, was left by his children at a Delhi market. His wife’s illness plunged his family into financial hardship and after she died, his children began to hit him. Still, he says he understands why they did what they did. “They didn’t have enough money,” he says.

Fatima Bi, 62, says her son threw her out because his wife did not want her to live with them. “If you don’t go, my wife will leave me,” she says he told her. “What do I say?”

Radhika, who doesn’t know her age, says her sons abandoned her after she started suffering epileptic seizures. “They want to enjoy their life,” she says. “They don’t have time for me.”