Let’s face it. Gurugram—the city formerly (and still colloquially) known as Gurgaon—should not exist in the form we see today. Gurgaon rose and thrived only because New Delhi failed spectacularly in its real estate policy. Outside of communist countries, New Delhi is perhaps the only major city in the world that allowed virtually no organized private real estate development for decades. Most of the land and housing was handled by the Delhi Development Authority (DDA), which built flats, shopping centers, and commercial complexes.
These DDA projects were neither adequate in scale nor in quality to meet the demand of a liberalized, IT-driven India in the 1990s and 2000s. With an outdated land and real estate policy (still badly in need of reform), Delhi became unviable for anyone looking for Grade-A offices or better-planned, higher-quality housing. This vacuum led to the rise of NOIDA in Uttar Pradesh and Gurgaon in Haryana—both hugging Delhi’s borders and feeding off its unmet needs.
Both Noida and Gurugram took off, but Gurgaon surged ahead. Much of the credit goes to developer DLF, whose vision and planning were rarely seen in India. Gurgaon’s developments were Grade-A—something a DDA-flat-filled Delhi had never seen. While Delhi’s affluent could only hope for a “kothi” (small bungalow), Gurgaon offered golf courses, swimming pools, high-speed lifts, and central air-conditioning.
Initially, people moved to Gurgaon but commuted to Delhi for work. Then came the real game-changer: Grade-A office spaces—the kind North India, perhaps even all of India, had never seen. Unlike Mumbai, Delhi lacked anything like Nariman Point. Connaught Place, with its few outdated office blocks, was all Delhi had. Gurgaon, on the other hand, boasted gleaming offices, malls, and restaurants. This uniqueness drew in MNCs, startups, call centers, media houses, and a buzzing hive of commercial activity. Jobs and wealth followed, and demand exploded. Soon, Delhi residents were commuting to Gurgaon instead.
This was before the Delhi-Gurgaon highway even existed. Daily traffic jams were the norm. When the highway finally opened, Gurgaon’s growth was so explosive that the highway itself is now perpetually choked. And if it rains—like it does every monsoon—chaos reigns. Just last week, social media was flooded with drone footage of gridlocks stretching for miles. Some commuters reported being stranded for six hours. Roads were submerged, even in neighborhoods with multi-million-dollar apartments housing senior management and business leaders. The city that symbolized India’s wealth creation suddenly looked no better than a third-world mess. It was a brutal reminder of India’s aukaat: don’t you dare dream of world-class living; you’ll be dragged back to reality.
Gurgaon’s problem isn’t that it’s bad—it’s that it’s too good by Indian standards. India is so starved of well-planned cities with decent housing, offices, jobs, and entertainment that when one Gurgaon emerges, the whole country piles onto it. It is one of perhaps only four or five cities in India where jobs paying more than ₹2 lakh a month are plentiful. Step outside these five metros and incomes drop sharply—so do Grade-A buildings. Add to this the small-town suffocation that drives young people to bigger cities, and you have an irresistible pull toward Gurgaon.
Had Delhi formulated a sensible real estate policy in the 1990s, Gurgaon may never have happened. Had India planned its cities properly—sticking to master plans, incentivizing corporations to move beyond Gurgaon, Bangalore, Mumbai, Hyderabad, and Chennai—these metros would not now be bursting at the seams. Consider this: how many of India’s top 100 companies by market value have headquarters outside these five cities? Now compare that to the United States, where corporate headquarters are spread across dozens of cities.
The long-term solution is clear: India needs many more Grade-A cities. If we have five such cities today, we need fifty. Only then will Grade-A talent and Grade-A companies spread out instead of suffocating in a handful of metros.
But what about Gurgaon right now? Should we just accept the mess—bear the jams, complain on social media, and live with it? Or should something urgent be done? Given Gurugram’s importance to India’s economy, its global recognition, and its wealth-creation potential, the city needs rescue.
The problem is that Gurgaon just happened to spring up in Haryana. Its needs are radically different from the rest of the state, which is mostly agrarian and homogeneous. Yet Gurgaon’s vote share is too small to influence state politics. Naturally, the Haryana government prefers to prioritize spending elsewhere, like on farmers. Fixing Gurgaon requires massive, expensive infrastructure projects—something the state has little incentive to bankroll.
That’s why drastic, unconventional solutions are required:
Merge Gurgaon into Delhi.
If Delhi can somehow absorb Gurgaon—whether through a constitutional provision or emergency measure—things would improve. Of course, Delhi’s archaic land policies can’t apply here, but Gurgaon in Delhi makes far more sense than Gurgaon in Haryana.
Make Gurgaon a Union Territory.
The city generates tens of billions in economic value, with potential for much more. As a UT, Gurgaon could plan and govern itself, free from Haryana’s competing priorities.
Pass a “Strategic Cities Act.”
Gurgaon’s problems are similar to Bangalore’s, where state governments lack incentive to fix urban issues. Some cities are of strategic national importance and cannot be left to collapse. The Centre could carve out special provisions, budgets, and policymaking powers for such cities.
The ghastly visuals from Gurgaon last week were not an aberration—they are India’s urban future if we don’t act. The city’s decline is both a national crisis and an international embarrassment. India must do two things urgently: create dozens more world-class cities, and rescue Gurgaon now through bold, unconventional measures.