KOLKATA: Bengal has one of the highest rates of child adoption in the country but couples continue to be reluctant to adopt children who are six years or older.

 

Functionaries of Atmaja, an association for adoptive parents that was formed 25 years ago to share their experiences with couples seeking to adopt and answer their queries on procedures before the adoption and challenges thereafter, said most couples were willing to wait up to four years after submitting their application for adoption when they can become a parent in a matter of weeks if they agree to adopting an older child.

"Couples usually go for adoption when they have spent 10 years to have a child. That means they are already in their late 30s or early 40s. If they were to adopt a six-seven year-old child, it could happen in a matter of days as there are many children of that age waiting for adoption. Also, the age gap between the parents and the child would be less. Unfortunately, most couples prefer to wait for years to adopt a child who is younger. We are trying to counsel parents to adopt older children because they too deserve a home," said former Jadavpur University prof and adoptive parent Nilanjana Gupta who was the founder chairperson of Atmaja.
 

For many, the wait can make them ineligible as the combined age of the husband and wife adopting a child of under 2 years cannot exceed 85 years. For a child of 2-4 years, the maximum combined age of adopting parents is 90 years. Also, the keenness to adopt only children below four years leaves many older kids without a home.

"We also tell couples seeking to adopt that one of the major dilemmas that parents face over when and how to disclose to the children that they are adopted is not there in the case of older children as they already know they are being adopted," said Anup Dewanji, a retired prof at ISI and an adoptive parent who is now chairman of Atmaja.

Saumeta Medhor of adoption agency The Indian Society for Sponsorship & Adoption, says the biggest challenge is couples want to adopt a child who is a clean slate with no memories. "A child of six-seven years will have memories of the biological family or past experiences. Only 1% of couples look for an older child and they do so because they are ineligible for someone younger," she said.

The couple, who had lovingly raised Prabhat since childhood, are now battling for their lives in the hospital.

In a heart-wrenching incident, a retired couple in Assam’s Marikalang, Nagaon, faced a horrific betrayal at the hands of their own adopted son. 

Harendranath Bora and his wife, Dipti Bora, both retired from the Education Department, were brutally attacked and robbed by their adopted son, Prabhat Hazarika. 

The couple, who had lovingly raised Prabhat since childhood, are now battling for their lives in the hospital. 

As per reports, Prabhat, who had been living in Karbi Anglong, recently sought Rs 50,000 from his parents for his ailing wife’s treatment. 

INTERVIEW

Rani T'Kindt was adopted and has to arrange her biological father's funeral in India: “How is this possible?”

Rani T'Kindt was adopted from India as a toddler by Belgian parents. This week, she was contacted by Indian authorities, who asked her to arrange her biological father's funeral. "How did they end up with me?"

Veerle Beel

November 7, 2025 at 11:59 PM

NATIONAL ASSEMBLY

CONSTITUTION OF 4 OCTOBER 1958

TWELFTH LEGISLATURE

Registered at the Presidency of the National Assembly on April 11, 2006

INFORMATION REPORT

Current question

Current questionabout the uncertainties surrounding international adoption

95 (2025-2026)

from Freya Perdaens to Minister Caroline Gennez

• View document sheet

How Mumbai was once central to Swiss intercountry adoptions—and the questions that remain

Asha Sadan is a Mumbai landmark, inseparable from the city’s history. Located in Dongri, it is a place I have often passed—familiar yet easy to overlook. Established in 1921 by an Indian women’s association, it has long sheltered women and children, particularly unmarried mothers and their babies. Many of these children were placed for adoption, sometimes within India but often abroad.

I flipped through Mother Unknown: Adoption of Children from India in the Swiss Cantons of Zurich and Thurgau, 1973–2002. As I was drawn in by its focus on Mumbai and the children adopted overseas, I noticed the cover image—Asha Sadan. Two of the authors were credited with the photograph, though it does not explicitly identify the building, perhaps for the right reasons. The open-access book is edited by Andrea Abraham, Sabine Bitter and Rita Kesselring and published by Chronos Verlag (Zurich).

Asha Sadan’s sponsoring association, the Maharashtra State Women’s Council, was chaired by the Swiss Alice Khan-Meier. It was a popular adoption agency for many Swiss couples

Based on a study commissioned by the two Swiss cantons, Mother Unknown investigates intercountry adoptions, exposing legal and ethical lapses that left many adoptees without a clear record of their origins. It revisits cases of Indian children sent to Switzerland, and questions authorities which neglected safeguards in these adoptions; there is also a focus on serious consequences for those who grew up with incomplete, false or untraced identities.

It's important to me that I share my adoption story with you. If I can help even just one person feel a little less alone by sharing my story, it's worth it. My story is ever evolving and I invite you to follow my journey by subscribing to my mailing list.

My Story

My story started in India, on February 12, 1992. It was the day I was born, and the day my birth mother placed me for adoption.

The story I grew up with went something like this: My birth mother wasn’t married so she had to leave her village, give birth to me, and place me for adoption all in secret. The only other person who knew of her pregnancy was her mother, my birth grandmother. I had to be a secret to those in her village because if anyone found out she would have been kicked out, or worse, killed.

After 21 years away, my return to India terrified me. But once I was there, I felt an overwhelming connection to the culture I had left behind.

At the age of four months I was adopted by my parents — blond-haired, blue-eyed people who did their best to provide me with cultural pride and knowledge of my homeland. Being raised in a racially mixed family made me open and tolerant of differences. Yet I often felt out of place because of my race.

I grew up in a suburb of Portland, Oregon, in a predominantly white community with a growing Latino population. Latinos often presumed that I was one of them, but I knew that I couldn’t claim their community as my own. Although my high school was diverse, there was only one other Indian girl — and she was raised in a traditional Indian home and had much lighter skin than mine. Here, too, my dark skin set me apart.

I recall times, as a child, being followed from store to store at the mall by security officers who could not believe that the white-skinned man accompanying me was actually my father. As I grew older, the white, blonde, blue-eyed Barbie image of American womanhood seemed an ideal I could never achieve. My brown skin felt like a dirty mark, almost a curse. In middle school and high school, I knew I wasn’t the girl that most boys wanted to date. Others were attracted to me for my exotic look only.

My parents tried introducing me to Indian art, dance, cooking, and dress, but these things left me cold. I took no pride in being Indian. I wanted nothing to do with activities with other adopted Indian kids. I remember participating reluctantly in a slumber party with other Indian girls. When all six of us walked into a pizza place, everyone turned around and stared. Although it felt good to be with others like me, I never wanted to repeat the experience when it was offered.

As an Indian adoptee, I found my birth mother which is kind of a miracle , yet I am upset with life

Adoptee Life Story

I (20f) was adopted from India when I was a toddler by my adoptive parents who are Indian as well. We moved to the states after a few years. My adoptive parents have been quite open with me about my adoption. Generally, we Indian adoptees can never find our origins as all adoptions are closed and there is a lot of stigma. A couple of months back, I took a DNA test on 23&me and matched with my cousin. I was so happy at this as it was totally unexpected. She too lives in US. I texted her immediately. My cousin texted back but she didn’t know about me. She was very sweet to me and told me that her mother has only one sister who could be my mother and said she will find out.

It seems my existence caused a sort of a frenzy in the family. My cousin asked her mother about me. My aunt informed my mother and they told my cousin not to talk to me. My mother’s husband doesn’t know about me. No one in my family wants me to associate with them. My cousin got back to me and said I was the product of an affair, my father had left my mother then and she found out about the pregnancy a little too late. Since my mother was unmarried , she gave me away to an orphanage. My cousin told me she can’t talk to me anymore as she wants to respect my mother’s wishes. I said that it’s understandable but I begged for my mother’s name and basic details, promising that I will never contact her. My cousin reluctantly gave it to me and then we never spoke.

Amsterdam: Are they finally going to happen, the Dutch state's apology to the mothers who gave up their children for adoption after the introduction of the Adoption Act in 1956? Will there also be an apology to the children they lost? The foundations that represent the interests of the mothers who gave up their children for adoption and those who gave them up for adoption have been invited by Arno Rutte, State Secretary for Justice and Security, to participate in discussions on the question: what form should this recognition take?

"This is a breakthrough," says Frans Haven, board member of the Verleden in Zicht (VIZ) foundation, which represents the interests of the 15,500 Dutch people who were relinquished and adopted after the introduction of the Adoption Act in 1956 and before the introduction of the Abortion Act in 1984. "We are very pleased with this step," says Ellen Venhuizen, chair of the De Nederlandse Afstandsmoeder (DNA) foundation.

To the great joy of Haven and Venhuizen, a date has finally been set: by March 31st of next year, the Dutch government will officially recognize the great suffering inflicted on birth mothers and adoptees. Haven, born in 1965, relinquished, and later adopted: "The Adoption Act has created victims. Adoptees feel detached their entire lives." Venhuizen, who gave birth to a daughter in 1974 whom she relinquished for adoption: "The social services at the time, the predecessor of Fiom, pushed for adoption. They said: 'You want to keep your child? How are you going to do that? There's nothing.'"

Child Protection Council

Venhuizen and Haven also mention the role of the Child Protection Council. "They ultimately made the decision. They followed a pattern that was in line with FIOM's policy," says Venhuizen. She believes the council didn't do its job properly. "The council didn't stand up for the many underage women who were pregnant unexpectedly. Until 1988, women were still minors until the age of 21. And there was hardly any supervision of how our children fared in the homes where they ended up immediately after birth and in the years that followed, in their adoptive families." Those children are now adults. The youngest are just past forty, the oldest are approaching seventy. VIZ prefers not to call them "adopted" but "relinquished."