Mumbai: In a modest Byculla apartment, three generations of the Mullick-Mehrishi family chat over tea, sharing stories of a time when family homes were sprawling, and children filled every room. Dr Avinash Chandra Mullick, 82, was the youngest of nine siblings. His grandson, Advay, 14, is growing up as an only child.This contrast reflects a broader shift sweeping through Indian cities. As India marks World Population Day, it faces a paradox: it is now the world’s most populous country, yet its total fertility rate has dropped to 2.0, below the replacement level of 2.1. Families are shrinking—by choice or circumstance.“In my time, large families were the default,” says Dr Mullick. Born in pre-Independence Allahabad, he recalls his household as chaotic but close-knit. “Six to eight children was normal. No one discussed family planning.”By the 1980s, however, national campaigns and rising costs began reshaping public attitudes. “Expenses were going up. Children needed more. We chose to stop at two. ‘Hum Do, Hamare Do’ made sense,” he says.His daughter, Abhilasha Mullick Mehrishi, 48, took a further step. A counsellor and former HR professional, she and her husband chose to raise one child. “It wasn’t about inability, it was a conscious decision. We thought about time, energy, and the kind of parenting we wanted to give,” she says.Across the city, 29-year-old Adarsh Olivera shares a similar story. An only child, he and his wife, both working professionals, are currently opting out of parenthood. “DINK (Double Income, No Kids) isn’t just a trend. For many, it’s a necessity,” he says. Adarsh’s grandfather, Clement Olivera, migrated from Mangalore to Mumbai with his wife and five children and later worked in Saudi Arabia to support the family. His father, Libert, now 59, ran small businesses but eventually turned to freelance real estate. Adarsh, by contrast, grew up in a nuclear set-up. “I had aunts and cousins around, but I always knew I’d prefer a smaller family of my own someday,” he says. Raising a child in Mumbai, he adds, feels financially out of reach. “Even if we combine our incomes, we’d struggle to afford school fees, housing, and quality childcare. Sometimes I think of moving back to Mangalore to raise a family for a slower life, more space, but infrastructure and remote work challenges are real.” He sees a full circle in that choice. “My grandfather moved to Mumbai for a better life. If I move back to Mangalore for my child’s future, it’s the same idea, just in reverse.”Still, not all decisions stem from economics. Businessman Karan Lekhraj, 45, who has an 11-year-old daughter, believes many parents today want to give more to fewer children. “We wanted more, but my father’s Alzheimer’s meant we had to prioritise caregiving,” he says. His family tree also reflects the generational shift: his grandfather had five children, his father four, and Karan has one child.Beyond money and space, the family landscape is changing due to greater agency, especially for women. “My grandmother had no say. My mother had some. I had complete choice,” says Abhilasha. “It’s about more than birth control; it’s about control over your life.”While some worry about the emotional cost of fewer siblings, Advay sees no loss. “My mom tells stories about growing up with her brother, swimming in the bathroom, building paper boats. I love hearing them. But I don’t feel I’ve missed out.”Dr Mullick, watching his grandson, reflects on the shift. “With more people, we shared everything–space, food, time. Today, I see less compromise, but also more clarity. People know what they want.”
