Delhi's urban villages: Between posh colonies and pothole-riddled roads

Ravi, a 49-year-old shopkeeper in Zamrudpur, makes his way carefully down the pothole-riddled road to his small hardware shop. Situated deep within the area’s narrow, congested lanes, the shop has been his livelihood for years. But even before he can reach it, he loses his footing while leaping over a pothole, scattering the items he is carrying onto the ground. Passersby rush to help, picking up the fallen goods.

 

“Earlier, I never faced such problems,” he says, dusting himself off. “My shop used to be on the main road, but when the metro line was being constructed in 2009, a mishap destroyed it.” He refers to the collapse of then under-construction Badarpur-Central Secretariat metro line near Lady Shri Ram College, which damaged properties in the area. “I tried repairing the shop for years but eventually lost hope. Banks usually don’t give loans to people like us who own land in urban villages, saying we fall under Lal Dora. But when we approach the authorities, they claim we’re no longer Lal Dora and are part of an urbanised village.”

 

Zamrudpur, a village nestled between South Delhi’s upscale neighbourhoods of Greater Kailash and Kailash Colony, is a stark contrast to its well-heeled surroundings: It’s core is a maze of cramped homes and narrow roads, with barely enough space for pedestrians to pass.

 

Like many other Lal Dora villages in Delhi, Zamrudpur grapples with a legacy of overlapping land-use policies and inconsistent governance. Originally established in 1908, the Lal Dora designation marked village habitation areas exempt from urban development laws. Over time, however, this exemption has turned into a legal limbo.

 

Abdul (name changed), a third-generation resident of Hauz Khas, has experienced this bureaucratic tangle firsthand. Working as a server in an upscale Hauz Khas restaurant, he supports his family in a modest home near the Eidgah. In 2019, after his second child was born, he decided to build an additional room. “I had arranged all the raw materials,” he recalls, “but just as the work was about to begin, MCD (Municipal Corporation of Delhi) officials arrived and stopped everything.”

 

“Luckily, construction hadn’t started. If it had, it would’ve been a bigger mess, with more losses. I thought the corporation’s laws didn’t apply here,” he says. “Look around—most of the area is built in violation of construction laws. But those cater to the rich, so no one says anything. When the poor make a mistake, even unknowingly, the rules suddenly come into play.”

 

Confusion over Lal Dora laws is widespread. A notification issued in 1957 exempted Lal Dora villages from building regulations, and another in 1963 declared that no permissions were required for construction in these areas. The Master Plan Delhi 2021 laid down norms that these villages would be governed by special regulations but shall remain exempt from sealing. “We see buildings around us and assume they’re legal,” Abdul says, “but when we try to extend our homes, we’re branded as encroachers.”

 

This lack of clarity has frustrated many. “If land was taken from us based on the 1911 census, why haven’t the norms evolved to accommodate population growth?” Abdul asks.

 

His view is echoed by Paras Tyagi, co-founder of the Centre for Youth, Culture, Law and Environment (CYCLE). “Delhi owes everything to its villages,” Tyagi says. “But unlike the rest of India, where village lands are clearly demarcated, Delhi’s Lal Dora boundaries have been altered repeatedly. Exemptions granted in 1963 were removed in 2011, and now urban planning is imposed without clarity. This violates the Constitution.” 

 

The lack of implementation of central schemes in the National Capital Territory has added to the woes of Lal Dora residents. “The Svamitva scheme, launched in 2020 to survey village lands with improved technology, hasn’t been implemented in Delhi,” Tyagi notes. “Similarly, the NAKSHA policy introduced in the 2024-25 Budget to digitise urban land records hasn’t been applied here. The authorities seem reluctant to touch what they see as a cash cow.”

 

In Najafgarh’s Mitraon village, Rampal Singh faces a different set of challenges. A farmer who primarily grows mustard and seasonal vegetables, Singh has spent two days searching for transport to carry his produce to the mandi. Using his tractor would be an obvious solution, but in Delhi, even that is fraught with complications.

 

“In Delhi, tractors aren’t classified as farming equipment — they’re registered as commercial vehicles,” Singh explains. “This means we have to pay taxes quarterly, biannually, or annually. That’s not the case in other states. First, the Sheila Dixit government removed tractors from the farming machinery list, and then the AAP government classified them as commercial vehicles. It’s unaffordable.”

 

Tractors are just one of many obstacles facing Delhi’s farmers. Unlike their counterparts in neighbouring states, they are excluded from central schemes such as crop insurance, soil health cards, and drip irrigation subsidies. “Farmers in other states benefit from solar schemes and advanced irrigation facilities,” says another farmer.

 

According to the 2011 Census, Delhi had 39,457 (31,352 males and 8,123 females) agricultural workers -- only 0.71 per cent of total working population. Yet these farmers are responsible for cultivating crops like paddy, jowar, bajra and maize during the kharif season, and wheat, mustard, barley, and gram during the rabi season. Their limited support infrastructure — just one Krishi Vigyan Kendra for the entire region — stands in stark contrast to the resources available in other states.

 

The aforementioned issues are a point of contention between the BJP-led central government and Delhi’s AAP government.  In a letter to Chief Minister Atishi, Union Agriculture Minister Shivraj Singh Chouhan claimed the Delhi government never took appropriate decisions in favour of local farmers. In response, Atishi said that the BJP was “politicising the farmers’ issues” and demanded that the central government address the demands being raised by protesting farmers in Punjab, where the AAP is in power, instead.

 

Though political leaders have taken note of the farmers’ plight, solutions remain elusive. The BJP has pledged to expedite the Delhi Master Plan 2041 and streamline land transfer rights for declared urban villages. Lieutenant Governor VK Saxena’s recent decision to simplify transfer of ownership rights of agricultural land in “declared urban villages” has offered some hope, even as farmers continue to struggle with red tape and delays in implementing policies.

 

Back in Zamrudpur, Ravi’s frustration with the city’s infrastructure remains palpable. “It’s not just the potholes,” he says. “The tangled web of wires overhead is a disaster waiting to happen. Fires and accidents are common, yet no one takes responsibility. Overflowing sewage and excessive congestion make things worse.”

 

Another resident points to the state of the roads. “The condition of the arterial road is so bad that you wouldn’t believe we’re right across from Greater Kailash,” she says. “Potholes fill with water during rains, turning them into breeding grounds for mosquitoes. The agencies don’t even spray anti-larval chemicals or fog the area regularly.”

 

For many residents, the lack of basic amenities feels like a cruel irony. “We’re not asking for luxury,” Ravi says. “We just want our homes and colonies to be treated like the posh areas next door. Is that too much to ask?”

 

He pauses, then adds with a bitter laugh: “But if they can’t even prevent the roof of the airport from collapsing — a place used mostly by the affluent — how can we expect them to do anything for us?”

 

On Sun, Jan 12, 2025 at 6:52 PM Kumar Abishek <kumar.abishek@bsmail.in> wrote:

Delhi’s urban villages: Between posh colonies and potholes

 

Residents of the city's Lal Dora villages face legal confusion, poor infrastructure, and neglect, struggling with outdated policies and exclusion from key schemes. Sarthak Choudhury reports

 

Ravi, a 49-year-old shopkeeper in Zamrudpur, makes his way carefully down the pothole-riddled road to his small hardware shop. Situated deep within the area’s narrow, congested lanes, the shop has been his livelihood for years. But even before he can reach it, he loses his footing while leaping over a pothole, scattering the items he is carrying onto the ground. Passersby rush to help, picking up the fallen goods.

 

“Earlier, I never faced such problems,” he says, dusting himself off. “My shop used to be on the main road, but when the metro line was being constructed in 2009, a mishap destroyed it.” He refers to the collapse of then under-construction Badarpur-Central Secretariat metro line near Lady Shri Ram College, which damaged properties in the area. “I tried repairing the shop for years but eventually lost hope. Banks usually don’t give loans to people like us who own land in urban villages, saying we fall under Lal Dora. But when we approach the authorities, they claim we’re no longer Lal Dora and are part of an urbanised village.”

 

Zamrudpur, a village nestled within South Delhi’s upscale neighbourhoods of Greater Kailash and Kailash Colony, is a stark contrast to its well-heeled surroundings: It’s core is a maze of cramped homes and narrow roads, with barely enough space for pedestrians to pass.

 

Like many other Lal Dora villages in Delhi, Zamrudpur grapples with a legacy of overlapping land-use policies and inconsistent governance. Originally established in 1908, the Lal Dora designation marked village habitation areas exempt from urban development laws. Over time, however, this exemption has turned into a legal limbo.

 

Abdul (name changed), a third-generation resident of Hauz Khas, has experienced this bureaucratic tangle firsthand. Working as a server in an upscale Hauz Khas restaurant, he supports his family in a modest home near the Eidgah. In 2019, after his second child was born, he decided to build an additional room. “I had arranged all the raw materials,” he recalls, “but just as the work was about to begin, MCD (Municipal Corporation of Delhi) officials arrived and stopped everything.”

 

“Luckily, construction hadn’t started. If it had, it would’ve been a bigger mess, with more losses. I thought the corporation’s laws didn’t apply here,” he says. “Look around—most of the area is built in violation of construction laws. But those cater to the rich, so no one says anything. When the poor make a mistake, even unknowingly, the rules suddenly come into play.”

 

Confusion over Lal Dora laws is widespread. A notification issued in 1957 exempted Lal Dora villages from building regulations, and another in 1963 declared that no permissions were required for construction in these areas. The Master Plan Delhi 2021 laid down norms that these villages would be governed by special regulations but shall remain exempt from sealing. “We see buildings around us and assume they’re legal,” Abdul says, “but when we try to extend our homes, we’re branded as encroachers.”

 

This lack of clarity has frustrated many. “If land was taken from us based on the 1911 census, why haven’t the norms evolved to accommodate population growth?” Abdul asks.

 

His frustration is echoed by Paras Tyagi, co-founder of the Centre for Youth, Culture, Law and Environment (CYCLE). “Delhi owes everything to its villages,” Tyagi says. “But unlike the rest of India, where village lands are clearly demarcated, Delhi’s Lal Dora boundaries have been altered repeatedly. Exemptions granted in 1963 were removed in 2011, and now urban planning is imposed without clarity. This violates the Constitution.”

 

The lack of implementation of central schemes in the National Capital Territory has added to the woes of Lal Dora residents. “The Svamitva scheme, launched in 2020 to survey village lands with improved technology, hasn’t been implemented in Delhi,” Tyagi notes. “Similarly, the NAKSHA policy introduced in the 2024-25 Budget to digitise urban land records hasn’t been applied here. The authorities seem reluctant to touch what they see as a cash cow.”

 

In Najafgarh’s Mitraon village, Rampal Singh faces a different set of challenges. A farmer who primarily grows mustard and seasonal vegetables, Singh has spent two days searching for transport to carry his produce to the mandi. Using his tractor would be an obvious solution, but in Delhi, even that is fraught with complications.

 

“In Delhi, tractors aren’t classified as farming equipment — they’re registered as commercial vehicles,” Singh explains. “This means we have to pay taxes quarterly, biannually, or annually. That’s not the case in other states. First, the Sheila Dixit government removed tractors from the farming machinery list, and then the AAP government classified them as commercial vehicles. It’s unaffordable.”

 

Tractors are just one of many obstacles facing Delhi’s farmers. Unlike their counterparts in neighbouring states, they are excluded from central schemes such as crop insurance, soil health cards, and drip irrigation subsidies. “Farmers in other states benefit from solar schemes and advanced irrigation facilities,” says another farmer.

 

According to the 2011 Census, Delhi had 39,457 (31,352 males and 8,123 females) agricultural workers -- only 0.71 per cent of total working population. Yet these farmers are responsible for cultivating crops like paddy, jowar, bajra and maize during the kharif season, and wheat, mustard, barley, and gram during the rabi season. Their limited support infrastructure — just one Krishi Vigyan Kendra for the entire region — stands in stark contrast to the resources available in other states.

 

The aforementioned issues are a point of contention between the BJP-led central government and Delhi’s AAP government.  In a letter to Chief Minister Atishi, Union Agriculture Minister Shivraj Singh Chouhan claimed the Delhi government never took appropriate decisions in favour of local farmers. In response, Atishi said that the BJP was “politicising the farmers’ issues” and demanded that the central government address the demands being raised by protesting farmers in Punjab, where the AAP is in power, instead.

 

Though political leaders have taken note of the farmers’ plight, solutions remain elusive. The BJP has pledged to expedite the Delhi Master Plan 2041 and streamline land transfer rights for declared urban villages. Lieutenant Governor VK Saxena’s recent decision to simplify transfer of ownership rights of agricultural land in “declared urban villages” has offered some hope, even as farmers continue to struggle with red tape and delays in implementing policies.

 

Back in Zamrudpur, Ravi’s frustration with the city’s infrastructure remains palpable. “It’s not just the potholes,” he says. “The tangled web of wires overhead is a disaster waiting to happen. Fires and accidents are common, yet no one takes responsibility. Overflowing sewage and excessive congestion make things worse.”

 

Another resident points to the state of the roads. ““The condition of the arterial road is so bad that you wouldn’t believe we’re right across from Greater Kailash,” she says. “Potholes fill with water during rains, turning them into breeding grounds for mosquitoes. The agencies don’t even spray anti-larval chemicals or fog the area regularly.”

 

For many residents, the lack of basic amenities feels like a cruel irony. “We’re not asking for luxury,” Ravi says. “We just want our homes and colonies to be treated like the posh areas next door. Is that too much to ask?”

 

He pauses, then adds with a bitter laugh: “But if they can’t even prevent the roof of the airport from collapsing — a place used mostly by the affluent — how can we expect them to do anything for us?”