I am disappointed in all my children and grandchildren; though as a matter of principal, I have none who are actually my own. I have often wondered: if I really had my own children and so on, would I have been exultant, proud, or even more ravaged than I am. Would they have made a difference for the better, or worse, to my life? Most people who know me feel that children would have given me an anchor. Having mulled a great deal over the subject, I have come to believe that not only would they have failed to help me to find meaning, but actually, would have enhanced my rejection of life; in the process, I would have made a mess of their lives, in not being able to cope with the burden of their existence. I would not have forgiven myself for bringing creatures into a world which I myself could not accept or comprehend.

The following is from "Another Man Called Gandhi", by Janaki Venkataraman:

Precocious Ramesh as a child (10 or 11) was very disturbed one day and waited for his father to come home so that he could confront him. When he arrived and saw his son restless, he gently asked, “Any problem?” Ramesh replied, “Yes, a big one. I would like to know if I have any responsibility in the process of my conception and eventual birth..”

His father patiently replied, “You ought to know very well that you couldn’t have been consulted.” “So,” Ramesh said, “I am a product of your caring, your physicality, convention, social obligation, need for perpetuation of clan, security, sex, whatever, and not of my own volition, right?” His father replied, “Absolutely. But what is the point you are trying to make?” Ramesh replied, “What is baffling me is, ethically and morally, what is one’s debt to one’s parents, from whom his or her existence emerges without his or her will? And my inescapable answer is, unfortunately, none.”

His father pondered and said “Yes, you are right, you owe us nothing, but now that you have established this, what would you do? How would you plan your life?”

Ramesh said, “Well, if I don’t die or kill myself, at least I will not bring a child of my own.” Then his father laughed and felt that he had the clinching argument. He said, “How do you know your child also would ask you such a question?” But Ramesh had a reply for that, too. He quickly chortled, “If my child were not to ask me such a question, nothing lost in having such a stupid child. On the other hand, if I were to be asked such a question, I am a coward; I would not have the courage to bear the burden of somebody else’s existence when I find my own already unbearable.”