Society: Parenting: The Price of Indulgence

Affluent parents are realising they are responsible for their children's excesses.

If you knew Sanjeev Nanda, you'd think he had it made. Here was someone who typified the go-getting Generation Next. A Viking in the brave new world of liberalisation who was confident in his branded armour of designer labels and sure about what he wanted out of life. But most of all here was a youngster who had the right backing -- read parents who were rich enough to satisfy every whim. Like sending him to one of the most prestigious business schools in the US. Or providing him with a BMW seven-series car (price: Rs 60 lakh) to play around while he was on holiday in India. So what made Nanda puncture that perfect world? Why did he, after a drinking binge in Delhi, gun his BMW into a group of people, killing five of them? And then instead of helping the injured and reporting the incident, drive away to a friend's place to wash off the blood stains? You may find the answer in what his tearful mother said as she watched her son being taken to Tihar Jail last week: "I should have been there instead. It is we (the parents) who gave him the money and the car."

Nanda's BMW, which was involved in an accident that killed five people in Delhi

If anything, the brutality of the "BMW case" -- as it has come to be known -- has shocked rich parents in every metropolitan city. Sure, the first reaction to the media hype was anger: "Why single out a rich kid ... how is he different from a Blueline bus driver?" But slowly that anger is making way for intense soul-searching. A cross-section of parents is becoming concerned, some of them even panicking. Says a wealthy engineer-turned-exporter and a parent of two children in their early 20s: "I have grounded my children and sent my imported cars to the farmhouse in Mussoorie." Others are grappling with subjects like parental responsibility and drawing valuable lessons. "I think we've given our kids too much. So they have become blas about these luxuries, they don't value them," says Mumbai's Ila Kaji, mother of two teenagers. Rich parents are realising they are the prime reason for their children turning out the way they do.

Take Arun Bajaj, who at 16 played hooky from school regularly to "hang out with the guys" in his Opel Astra. His father, a wealthy businessman who lives in south Delhi, is known to be a strict parent who didn't approve of his son's flashy party-every-night lifestyle. But Bajaj had his mother eating out of his hands -- and supplying him with money. Still, it came as a shock when the police rounded up a gang of drug runners and it was found Bajaj was a prominent member in it.

Bajaj is just a face in a sea of affluent kids in Delhi and Mumbai who live to play hard. It's an ivory-tower existence, where, courtesy their parents, they are blessed with security, a life without any obstacles or troubles. Or even rules. They think nothing of breaking the law or manipulating it to suit their interests. The only rule they learn to give credence to: life is one big party. And so it is. Every night, at farmhouses and upscale bars and night clubs, away from the prying eyes of parents. Clad in their Versace and Armani, they gulp down shots of tequila or snort lines of cocaine, dancing the night away. You can find them groggy-eyed, at five-star coffee shops in the early hours of the morning, gulping down cups of black coffee before they weave their woozy way back home in imported cars.

TOOTHLESS LAWS

Indian laws are notoriously antiquated. But laws for the biggest killer on the roads -- drunken driving -- are among the worst, as the BMW case showcases. Drinking is clearly becoming socially acceptable. But police nationwide handle this deadly cocktail of speed and alcohol as they always do: as a chance to make a quick buck.

Nanda (right) and Kapoor being taken to court

Of course, it's not entirely their fault. Habitual offenders know the loopholes. Before an amendment to the 1993 Motor Vehicles Act, the police used breathalysers and speed guns regularly to curb drunken driving. However, breathalyser reports are not admissible in court. To formally book drunk drivers, the police have to take them to a hospital for a blood test. With the traffic police in every city hopelessly shortstaffed, officials admit this is cumbersome. "Who is going to leave his post and take a driver for a blood test?" asks an official.

Result: in Delhi alone this year 2,065 fatal accidents were registered; 2,123 persons died. Of these at least 50 per cent were caused by drunken driving. But how many were booked for drunken driving in 1998? Only 131. The punishment is laughable: a maximum of six months imprisonment (which is rare) and a fine of up to Rs 2,000. And the conviction rate is abysmal. Legal experts call for more stringent laws. Particularly since even serious accidents involving blueline buses killing people are charged under Section 304A of the IPC that only carries a maximum sentence of two years. Contrast this with other countries where a person held for drunken driving risks several years in prison and permanent impoundment of the driving licence. Besides, he or she is forced to attend humiliating sessions with confirmed alcoholics which can last for many months.

In the BMW case the police tried a different track. They charged the offenders under section 304 of the Indian Penal Code, which amounts to culpable homicide and carries a maximum punishment of 10 years in jail. But already a battery of defence lawyers have argued the case should come under 304A -- a rash and negligent act that caused death. As a senior police official says: "Let's hope the court agrees. It will be a message that drunken driving will not be tolerated."

It's an endless cycle: wake up towards late afternoon and put on your party shoes again by evening. Most don't see their parents for days together. "What we have here is a generation of kids who have been given everything on a platter," says Ashit Sheth, a Mumbai-based psychiatrist.

A hedonistic lifestyle in itself isn't what makes these youngsters go bad. It's really a mindset: one that can't accept situations which don't go their way. Delhi and Mumbai are littered with examples of moneyed children going on the rampage in discos, restaurants or out in the streets. What's worse is that these well-to-do youth with their flashy lifestyles become role models to other, less fortunate young people who aspire to a trendy car, a huge farmhouse and a line of girlfriends.

A case in point is 14-year-old Saiza Parikh, a south Mumbai schoolboy. Usually left alone by his wealthy parents, Parikh would often smuggle in his girlfriend to his room to spend the night. His parents found out only after the guard told them. When confronted, Parikh climbed to the roof of his house and threatened to jump off if his parents reported the girlfriend to his school. Or take Neetu Malhotra, a rich 19-year-old Delhi girl who rammed into a traffic policeman trying to stop her after she jumped a red-light. With the policeman on her car bonnet, she drove for almost 300 yards, refusing to stop, until finally he fell off suffering grievous injuries. Points out Delhi's Joint Commissioner of Police Amod Kanth: "It's the money, it makes some of them go blind as if there weren't any laws in the country for them."

A major problem with these youngsters is that their prosperous parents are just too busy expanding their empires. Brought up by ayahs and "house managers", they don't get the necessary guidance which helps instil a set of values. Children normally learn to trust and develop attachments within the first three or four years of life. By then they should have also acquired a sense of compassion and empathy for others and learned the difference between what is right and wrong. Says child psychologist Gurmeet Kaur, who counsels children from Delhi's elite schools: "In many cases where parents don't give time I find the kids grow up with misshapen personalities ... they are prone to violence if they don't get what they want."

The absentee parents phenomenon also ushers in another villain: guilt. A majority of well-to-do parents today feel remorseful because they can't offer quality time to their children. The guilt drives them to ease their conscience in the only way they know: give them anything they want. Points out Prabhakar Rao, a parent and gynaecologist who owns a nursing home in Mumbai: "You want to give your child the best. And if you can afford a car, why not?" Unfortunately, the sops don't end just there. Rich parents take pride in the luxuries they can buy their children. Recently, a Mumbai couple bought their 17-year-old son, a student in Boston, a Porsche to drive around there. He wanted something, they wanted to impress.

Endless money and little supervision can lead to disastrous results. Like Sukhdev, the 20-year-old son of a rich Delhi builder who, just to make a point ("I kill people like this"), whipped out his revolver and shot a gardener in his friend's farmhouse. Sukhdev is now cooling his heels in Tihar Jail.

Experts say some blame should also be put on the New Age mantra of these rich, upwardly mobile parents. Intent on being liberal, they allow children to grow up without any restraint or curbs on behaviour. Recently in Delhi, a 13-year-old boy was caught bullying and trying to extort money from other classmates. When summoned to the school, the boy's father, a successful doctor, sided with his son saying he was "just playing the fool" and urged the authorities to forget the incident. When the principal refused, the parent grew abusive and withdrew the child from the school saying the school wasn't "fit" for his son.

In many cases, when children run into trouble, rich parents use their influence to bail them out. In Mumbai, a youngster speeding home in his Cielo after a party collided with a pole; two of his three passengers died. The police say he was drunk but the incident was hushed up. In fact, many police officials say cases involving wealthy kids are quickly hushed up before the media even gets a whiff.

Can anything be done for these kids? Yes, say experts. Explains Akash Dharmaraj, a Delhi-based psychoanalyst who works with young people: "Parents should be giving them things to do instead of money to spend. They should try and enforce a work-ethic, get them to use their minds and skills."

And whatever happens, parents need to spend time communicating with these youngsters who need to know that somebody cares for them. Says Swati Piramal, owner of the Piramal group of companies: "I don't let my children get everything very easily. They have to strive for it." The Piramal family -- all 14 of them -- makes it a point to meet for dinner every Monday night to talk about what each one of them is doing. That's one way to nurture a feeling of belonging.

But more than anything else, parents must look critically at themselves. For their children are merely reflections of what they are. As Bhupinder Singh, a wealthy Delhi businessman and a parent of two teenage boys, says: "You need to work at yourself too. Because what you are is what your children will eventually become."