Kishore Singh: Dad, help me be independent!

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A few months ago, when my son left for college in Pune, everyone said it was a good thing because it would help him grow up and take his own decisions "" good or bad. Because I had spent a few years in boarding, I agreed that living independently was the right thing, and so we were all happy that a life away from his parents' home would make a man of our son.

What I hadn't counted on was that it would also bring my son closer to me in ways I could hardly have imagined. In the four months he has been away, he has used me as a sounding board for almost all his decisions. When we speak in the morning, he'll ask me whether he should have poha or scrambled eggs for breakfast at the NCC canteen where he has most meals.

I keep a diary, and so am able to tell him whether he needs more carbs or proteins, and the arrangement works well, though I wish he'd make up his own mind "" it's only breakfast after all.

But just to ensure he doesn't pester me only with dining details, he will call to ask whether he should get curtains for his room, or stretch an Osho shawl across the windows instead? Should he buy himself a pair of party shoes in black that he can wear to college, or sports shoes in black that he can also wear to college? Or both? Would it be better if he shared his flat with just one flatmate or two? Should he wear his hair long or have it cut?

Instead of getting stitches for where he has a cut after falling down the stairs, can he just get the wound dressed (even though it will take longer to heal)?

There's serious stuff too, just to let you know our bonding isn't only about the frivolous. Such as when he's stopped by the cops (frequently) for the Delhi number plate on his motorcycle. "Tell them," he'll call on his mobile, when he can't get through their obtuse red tape on why a transfer of a Delhi number to Maharashtra should take so long. I've spoken to Pune traffic policemen and policewomen who only understand Marathi, to try and explain everything from my relationship with my son, to why he has been allowed to drive all over their fine city without the appropriate number plate. Sometimes they let him go, other times they fine him, but still he'll call to say, "Popsie, what should I do?"

He didn't like his first landlord who'd lock the gates at 10:30 pm, forcing my son to find night lodgings among friends. He slept out so often, it seemed a waste to pay rent, so he went looking for other accommodations. "Fifth floor or sixth?" he'd call to ask; "Three bedrooms or two?"; "South facing or east?"

I was his sounding board for choices "" brunch or lunch on Sunday? Pink shirt or green to go meet some distant cousins? Expensive alternate phone for when it rains or inexpensive? Home for vacations by train or plane?

It seems the only things he failed to ask was where to go partying after exams, the nightclubs he could hang out with friends on his limited pocket money, and whether it was all right if he went to the movies two nights in a row.

I was sure we'd grown closer, even if he has spent less time chatting with me back home on his break than he does daily from Pune. So when a friend asked him what he liked best about living in Pune, I was surprised when he responded, "I enjoy the freedom to make my own choices, for better or for worse!"