Family Processes Outsourced

Published in Sunday Chronicle, July 20th, 2008

When I attended school four decades ago, it was four minutes away from home. My father insisted on dropping me to school en route to work in the then flash of Indian upward mobility, the Ambassador.

During those short journeys I was imbued with an adage from his wellspring of wisdom, the most oft repeated being "you must always have the courage of your conviction!"

Dad was back home by 6pm and so was I, after playing in school till sundown. After a shower and homework completed, we gathered at the dining table for supper at 7pm. Each family member spoke about 'their day' in turn. Supper was a special ritual that reinforced the safety, sanctity and security of the family - an institution of reassurance that made no challenge insurmountable.

Dad’s pride and neighbour’s envy – the family gramophone – flooded the living room with ABBA to underlay post-supper conversation till the 9 o’ clock news on All India Radio. That was before television declared its hegemonic ambitions over the living room, and the entire house.

Four decades later, school is four kilometres away; my sons and I engage in peripatetic conversations in continuance of paternal tradition, appreciating our journey together, traffic notwithstanding. Supper is still at 7pm and remains a ritual of reassurance. Of course there remains one television with 99 channels and nothing on!

There was a hiatus of four years that interrupted paternal continuance, before my sons asserted their desire to return to my guardianship. During this sabbatical from parenthood, I rediscovered myself relishing my liberation to go anywhere and do anything without encumbrance.

I was bestowed with the unique experience of engaging with key aspects of the family at different times and different places; with children through drama training and the “fly on the wall” film maker provided me access to parents at airports, in offices, in malls, at pubs and golf clubs.

Pa is invariably en route to the airport at dawn while the children are dispatched after daybreak to schools - preferably 'international'- in far flung fringes of the city. Ma is pre-occupied with the launch of the next branch in her boutique chain. Schools and peers proxy for outsourced parenting during the eight hours to from and at school.

The microwave has replaced Pa at the head of the table, repeatedly reheating meals during the course of the evening. Reliance on the cell phone is an essential family prerequisite with emerging markets demanding the outsourcing of supper time conversation. I-Pods and plasma TV’s in each room have undermined the family into individuals under one roof sans conversation.

To derive maximum advantage from the outsourcing of business and knowledge processes, the Indian family finds it appropriate to outsource family processes to everything and everyone, including Manju, the maid servant.

We burn our candles at both ends pledging familial loyalty to corporations, to earn millions to create palatial abodes, ostensibly for our children and their higher education, when all they yearn for is a home with warmth and the reassurance of supper time conversation.

When a family breaks up, children repose trust in a parent akin to voters exhibiting preference for a political party. In a dysfunctional nuclear family, children express ‘no confidence’ by seeking their role models elsewhere to fill the vacuum. So, we ought not to express surprise when our daughters ‘turn a trick’ at the pub, or sons steal motor cycles to support expensive lifestyles.

When my sons reaffirmed their confidence in my parenting, they were saying they wanted me as father, role model, and coach, for my values, experience and affection, not for the size of house or my wallet.

If I wish to enjoy the support of my ‘electorate’ then I certainly have to respond to their demands and not take confidence for granted, accommodating all costs to lifestyle, livelihood and self.