Last time I visited Delhi, I was in a cab with a friend who, suddenly and with great feeling, declared, “I hate these gates, man!”
Ah, those “gates”! Colony gates that exist where gates aren’t really meant to be. Gates that are metal barricades on the roads leading into the colony, blocking off access.
Most urban residential “colonies” are spread over a vast area, and can be accessed from various roads and multiple directions. It is not uncommon to see colony gates numbered, from one to eight. However, many colonies do not actually allow access from all gates, especially at night. Sometimes, there is just one gate left open.
When I was a tenant in colonies like these, I too hated those gates. The barricades and locks added extra kilometres, several more minutes and much inconvenience when I tried to return home at night. Why couldn’t I access my home through the gate that was most convenient? But of course, nobody could argue with the locks because of “security” concerns.
Naturally, that leads us to the question of security for whom? It certainly didn’t make me any more secure. Besides, if a killer or a sexual predator was on the prowl, he wasn’t going to be stopped by a few metal barriers. It is easy to jump over a locked gate, or to slink past a gate in those brief moments when the watchman isn’t looking. However, I soon learnt that this isn’t about the security of the residents themselves, certainly not tenants like me. It is about the security of cars.
Cars in such colonies would rarely be parked in garages. They sat all night under the stars and the smog, and it would be relatively easy for thieves to jig the locks and simply drive away into the night, were it not for the fact that all the exit points were blocked. It would be much harder for a thief to break open a lock, swing open the gate or move the barrier and drive away with his loot, without being detected by one of the many watchmen around. With just one gate open, the cars are relatively safe.
One could make the argument that people who are so bothered about their cars should also invest in their safety by hiring more watchmen. Let all gates be manned and remain functional. But then, who would make such an argument and who would listen to them? The few residents who can afford to buy cars, but refuse to do so, are easily out-shouted and bullied. So, in terms of time and money lost, we who did not own cars were subsidising those who owned cars and did not want to pay the full price of securing them.
Over the last few years, many Indian cities have succumbed to highrises. New apartment complexes have basement or elevated parking spaces, and most have one main entry and exit gate, with guards manning them. Cars must feel safer here. But here too there are barriers of another sort. Many residents frown upon auto-rickshaws entering the premises. Some societies have even tried to create random — and illegal — rules such as: No autos beyond this point.
Auto-rickshaws pose no security risks, of course. It is very unlikely that a driver would abandon his own vehicle and risk his livelihood in order to cast a covetous eye on a parked car. Such rules are classist, of course, but they are also something else. They are an attempt to make people who do not own cars, who take up less urban space, expend extra time and physical energy to underwrite and prop up the lives of those who do.
The author is a writer of essays, stories, poems and scripts for stage and screen