DISTANCE NO BAR: Sundeep and Anupama with Amogh on his first birthday

It was a strange announcement to make on their son’s first birthday and the guests at the party were taken aback. Even as little Amogh was soaking up all the attention and playing with the gifts at his grandfather’s home in Patna earlier this month, his parents Sundeep and Anupama declared that they were travelling back to Calcutta — where they are busy pursuing their careers — without him.

Both the pull of tradition and the demands of modernity had something to do with their decision. Faced with the rigours of their professional lives and a desire to keep their only child close to his roots, the couple has done what perhaps very few urban parents would even consider. Sundeep, an environmental engineer with the Pollution Control Board and Anupama, a software professional with Cognizant Technologies, didn’t find it easy to part with one-year old Amogh but they don’t regret their decision either. They would rather have him grow up in a family, cared for by elders and “imbibe social and family values” than leave him in a creche or with a maid. He might have grown up to be selfish within the confines of a 900-sq.-ft foot flat with the television as his only learning instrument, they fear.

“Back at home in Patna and in our village at Samastipur, life is different. There’s a much greater bond between people, families are bigger. We believe in showing respect to elders which is not the case in metros. There are numerous small festivals which we do not even keep track of here in the city. Even Holi is celebrated in a different way in our village. My son would have missed out on all these if he grew up in a city,” says Sundeep. Being with his grandparents and extended family in his hometown, Amogh will imbibe his own culture and learn to identify with the values that his parents have grown up with, he adds.

Says Anupama: “The advantages are numerous so we let our heads rule our hearts. Our parents have endorsed the decision and they are happy with this arrangement.”

But it was easier said than done. Sundeep, who says he had a “thoroughly indigenous upbringing” himself, had nevertheless shuttled between his village and several small towns including Patna while growing up. That was not what he envisioned for his son. The 33- year-old engineer earlier had nothing against city life provided his son got a good education and the wherewithal of a developed human being. But doubts began to assail him when he had to scout around for somebody to look after Amogh while his wife and he were away at work. Sundeep’s mother came down to help out for a couple of months but had to return to be with his aging father. The next option was a crèche and Sundeep visited quite a few near his Golf Green flat. They failed to impress him. “They can’t teach your child anything — they merely baby-sit. Also, he wouldn’t be comfortable in his mother tongue if he went there. He would pick up neither Bengali properly nor learn Hindi. And we ruled out an attendant or maid because we don’t think they can be trusted to take on the responsibility,” explains Sundeep.

The couple pondered the possibility of taking the toddler back to their ancestral home. It was hard to think about parting just as they were taking delight in his baby talk and the interest he took in the world around him. But they decided not to skirt the issue. “Our mind was almost made up when one morning we saw him climbing a set of pillows to peep through the window. He could hardly see the world outside for we rarely had the time to take him out,” says Anupama. A family ‘meeting’ was called and every member’s opinion was sought. At the end of it, they chose to go ahead with their plan. “We knew living without him wouldn’t be easy but at the same time we feel relieved. We know he will grow up the way a child should. Just imagine, he will be listening to stories from his grandparents there. Here, we couldn’t even spare more than four hours for him,” enthuses Anupama.

Will they ever bring him back? They will, but not before Amogh turns eight. The years before that, according to them, make up the impressionable age during which a child remembers whatever he is taught. “After that, we suppose he will have to come back for there aren’t many good schools in the village. But he will never lose sight of his basic values,” says Sundeep.

Not everyone would follow — or approve of — the example the couple has set. Their own friends and neighbours were in fact aghast. “For the last few weeks we have had to face questions everywhere,” says Anupama. “Some people have thought us selfish. But working couples like us have identified more easily with our problem. I know of a few more families who have done the same.”

Fortunately for little Amogh, his life with his doting grandparents is a happy one. He has settled down in his new home. “He is moving around freely in the house and the garden, playing with our relatives’ children. It seems he is not missing us at all,” smiles Anupama, who returned from visiting her son last week.

But his parents are missing him. His old perambulator and a large brown teddy are still lying in the corner of the living room. Sundeep’s voice chokes as he recalls how Amogh would wrestle with the teddy on his bed and fall asleep in the cot clutching his favourite toy. But then the father consoles himself. “It’s just a matter of a few years. I suppose we should do this for his sake,” he signs off.