Two-factor-authenticated entry, manicured lawns, lavish lobbies, sniffing dogs – no this is not a high-security facility but a gated community, all the rage among upper-class urbanites in India’s metropolises. 

Circumscribed in walled enclaves, these residential communities block the outer world to create what developer ads like to call urban ‘havens.’ Today, these fortified colonies have become flag bearers of social and economic segregation. 

The rise of residential enclaves in India

The onslaught of gated communities was fueled by India’s economic liberalisation in the 90s when the government opened up markets to foreign investment and allowed private entities to play a bigger role in the country’s development. Private developers, now with far more power and money, saw an opportunity to bypass the slow-moving government and create exclusive residential campuses for the well-to-do. These enclosed acres provided them with what the state hadn’t been able to at the city level — liveable spaces, high-quality amenities, and a sense of safety. 

However, there is something sinister about the modern, highly-sanitised avatar of these developments. The burgeoning housing typology is fast becoming an act of spatial ‘purification’ – the poor are shut outside walls, sight, and mind.

A parallel, untoward reality

The American film ‘The Truman Show’ showed its protagonist, Truman Burbank, living in a sustained illusion where he was the unwilling participant of a manufactured reality – everyone around him was an actor following a script. 

Gated societies too have become akin to sustained illusions – a fantasy-like world unmarred by the ‘outside’ – albeit manufactured by collective choice. A 2021 study found that residents of such enclaves tend to “disengage from the wider community.” 

This social myopia explains why there is little notice of the parallel yet contrasting reality in these walled enclosures – the lives of the maintenance staff; the people who keep the ‘utopia’ alive and running. Primarily involved in blue-collar work, the staff includes domestic helpers, drivers, dog walkers, car washers, nannies, gardeners, and security guards, to name a few. 

In India’s cities, many blue-collar workers are migrants from small towns or villages, who leave behind their homes, and often their families, for better economic prospects. But the reality is that they are severely underpaid. A 2022 study by SalaryBox revealed that more than two-thirds of the blue-collared workforce in the country earns less than ₹15,000 or 180 USD per month. 

Designed to invisibilize the ‘other’

“I migrated from West Bengal to this city around eighteen years back,” says Samira (name changed), a domestic worker at a gated society in Gurugram, India. She walks five kilometres every day to and from work. “There is no place for me to rest here after work,” she says. “Sometimes, when I am feeling unwell (alluded to menstruation), I take a day off because there are no toilets for us here.”

Reshmi (name changed), is a housewife who lives with her husband and nine-month-old daughter in a jhuggi (a small brick shanty) within the same enclave. Her husband, a daily wage labourer, is working on the construction of new flats; the jhuggi, with little to no amenities, is located right next to the flats that will soon sell for millions. “We made this home ourselves, the contractor or the society didn’t provide us with much,” explains Reshmi. “The roof leaks when it rains.” 

These are instances of invisibilization, where the basic needs of the ‘other’ – in this case those of lower socio-economic status – go unrecognised. It can be seen everywhere in gated communities: personal drivers who rest in cars for they have nowhere else to go; ironers working in debilitated shacks scrunched in a corner; kids of domestic staff who get scorned at by residents if they play in parks. 

These walled neighbourhoods are typically designed to unsee what doesn’t serve the fanciful illusion of a perfect world. And so, the ‘other’ becomes invisible. 

Inadequate measures and increased exclusion

The government has taken some steps to address the needs of blue-collar workers employed in residential enclaves but true inclusion is still a far-reaching dream. For instance, Haryana’s Building Code mandates that 15% of all sanctioned dwelling units should be allotted to EWS (Economically Weaker Sections), and 10% to domestic staff. Other Indian states have such provisions too. But with little to gain monetarily from this move, many developers tend to flout these rules. When they do abide by the code, these decreed units – much smaller than the residences of the rich – are shoved away into a corner, which continues to propagate indifference and ignorance.

Today, this ‘gated’ mindset is being pushed to glaring limits: CCTV monitoring and regular security checks of maintenance staff have become commonplace. Furthermore, some condominiums have introduced separate lifts for maintenance staff, who are barred from using the ones designated for residents.

Will things change?

The COVID-19 pandemic showed just how vulnerable India’s urban poor are. No longer able to work and sustain themselves amid lockdowns, millions of migrant workers were forced to walk hundreds of kilometres back to their hometowns and villages. Thousands lost their lives on the way. Tons of blue-collar workers went without pay for months. 

When so many lives are lived hand to mouth, inclusion that provides access to basic facilities and a secure environment is not just a social or economic issue – it becomes a matter of survival.

On the surface, it seems like designing for inclusion in gated communities is straightforward. Even simple provisions like shared-access public toilets, resting spaces, shaded seating, green open spaces, and drinking water facilities, can solve many issues faced by the maintenance staff. But the reason these measures haven’t been realised on the ground so far is because of the outdated social barriers, which can be stronger than physical ones, even among those who wield the power to create change. 

Well-meaning policy-makers, architects, urban planners, developers, and citizens, therefore, need to be prepared for a lasting, continuous battle. It will take long, but hopefully together, we will dispel the illusion.