Parents Don’t Want Your Money — They Want to Hear Your Voice
By Krishna Kodey
I’ve met many well-meaning people over the years who say something like this:
“I send money home to my parents every month.”
“I got them a smartphone, a smart TV, and even a nurse.”
“They’re taken care of. They have everything they need.”
It’s always said with pride — and I understand why. There’s love behind those actions. Responsibility. Duty.
But then I sit with an elderly father in a small home, where everything looks new — except his smile.
Or I talk to a woman in her seventies, whose shelves are full, but her evenings are empty.
And I realize something most of us miss.
Yes, you gave them things. But they don’t want things.
They want you.
The Sound of Absence
There was one moment that shaped my journey more than any other.
I was visiting an older man, living alone in a quiet apartment in India. He was proud — the kind who won’t ask for much. His room was clean, the fridge was full, and his son had recently sent him a new smartwatch.
But as we talked, he looked at me and said — not with anger, but with tired honesty:
“My son gives me everything… except his voice.”
That sentence hit me harder than any data or research ever could. It made me reflect on something we’ve all been avoiding in this rapidly evolving world:
We are building walls of convenience — and calling it care.
We believe that by transferring money, installing devices, and outsourcing care, we’ve done our part. But love was never meant to be outsourced.
What Our Parents Actually Want
Your mother doesn’t want another sweater.
Your father doesn’t want the latest phone.
They want to hear your voice.
The same voice they waited for outside school gates.
The same voice they stayed up late to hear when you were out.
The same voice they memorized — so that even when they lose their memory, they still recognize the feeling.
In their old age, when time slows down and silence becomes louder, that voice becomes medicine.
And yet, for many, it disappears — replaced by nurses, alarms, notifications, or worse, silence.
The Illusion of Connection
We’re in the most connected generation in history. We can video call across oceans in seconds. We can send messages with a single emoji.
And yet — we are the most disconnected from the people who raised us.
Not because we don’t love them, but because we’ve started measuring care in transactions instead of presence.
We ask: “Have I paid the bills?” instead of “Have I asked how they feel today?”
Technology That Remembers
This is why I created iAVATARS. Not as a tech product. But as a promise.
A promise that even when you’re far, your voice doesn’t have to be.
A promise that your parents can still hear you say, “It’s time to take your medicine, Papa.”
A promise that your mother’s photo and voice, even if she’s no longer around, can still bring comfort to your aging father.
With artificial intelligence, we’ve created a system that can clone voices — not to trick or deceive — but to restore presence.
We don’t need cold, robotic alarms. We need soft, familiar words.
We don’t need another smart device. We need emotionally intelligent companionship.
iAVATARS uses AI to analyze when someone is in the room. It doesn’t just remind — it speaks, it feels, and sometimes, it even listens.
We’ve seen elderly people smile for the first time in weeks when they hear a voice they love. We’ve seen patients with dementia calm down, simply because a familiar voice reminds them they’re not alone.
This isn’t just technology. This is human memory, digitized — but never dehumanized.
Rishika’s Journey: The Heart of the Brand
Alongside me on this mission is Rishika Badkul, our 21-year-old co-founder and marketing lead. She represents the very generation that is often accused of forgetting its elders.
But she didn’t forget. She stepped forward. She built this brand with her heart, not just her head.
She understands — as I do — that love today must adapt. It must evolve. And that technology isn’t the enemy of emotion. When used with empathy, it can amplify love, not replace it.
Together, we’ve spoken to hundreds of families, caregivers, and elderly individuals. The stories they tell us are always the same:
“I don’t need more gifts. I just want to feel like my children are still here.”
The Reality of Aging
Aging is not just physical. It’s emotional.
It’s waking up and realizing no one called.
It’s taking medicine alone, even when you don’t remember why.
It’s needing a hand — and reaching out to silence.
Diseases like dementia don’t just take memories. They take connection.
And while we can’t stop time, we can create ways to make our presence felt — even when we’re not physically there.
That’s what iAVATARS is about. That’s what this mission is about.
A Call to My Generation
So, if you’re reading this — I ask you, not as a founder, but as a fellow human:
Call your parents.
Record your voice.
Be there — even if it’s through a device.
Because one day, they won’t ask for more money.
They’ll just ask to hear you say their name.
And when that day comes, I hope your voice still lives in their room.
Through iAVATARS. Through memory. Through love.
One Final Story
A few months ago, a man told me that after setting up iAVATARS, his mother started saying “good morning” again — out loud, to a device.
Why?
Because it answered back.
In his voice.
That’s the power of voice. That’s the power of presence. And that’s what this journey is all about.
Not profit.
Not gadgets.
But reconnecting hearts in a world that’s forgotten how to slow down.
— Krishna Kodey
Founder, iAVATARS
Inventor. Listener. Son.