Paupers & Princes of realty: How Gurgaon is both the land of crorepatis and cowherds
The repeated mention of Rs 1.20 crore that he received for selling his farm unsettles Ram Kishore and he leans on the staff he carries to mind the cows as he unwinds. After all, the money that came his way was spent in a couple of years.
Having sold all his farm land 10 years ago, the 45-year-old has come to terms with the fact that today his station in life has been downgraded from a farmer to a cowherd. The cows, a dozen of them, graze on a large tract of land in Manesar, surrounded by newly-constructed residential apartments that have been built here in the last one year.
"My family survives on the milk from these cows and handouts from sympathetic relatives," says Kishore who is dressed in a worn-out sleeveless sweater, shirt and trousers. In 2003, Kishore, whose family lives inManesar village, on the outskirts of Gurgaon, one of the fastest growing cities in India, was offered the money by a builder for three acres of land.
The farmer did not want to sell the land as he knew the money would not last. But there were rumours floating around that the government was about to acquire more land in their village. The memories of land acquired by the government were painful: a number of villagers had lost all their land for a pittance. Ram Kishore | 45
Money made in land deal: Rs 1.2 crore
What happened to the money: Used to clear debts. In two years, he was broke
Kanwar Singh | 55
Money made in land deal: Rs 38 lakh
What happened to the money: Bought land in Rewari; set up a labour colony from where he collects rent. He is worth at least Rs 20 crore
The Early Days
In the mid 1980s, the National Security Guard (NSG) project was established in Manesar after acquiring land at Rs 50,000 per acre. In the late 1990s when the state government acquired land for an industrial township project, it raised the compensation to Rs 6.4 lakh per acre. On both occasions, the farmers felt cheated as they had got a price far below the market rate.
Ram Kishore thought about the offer for a few days. "I was under constant pressure to sell the land as people kept saying that the government was about to acquire land in the village. Finally, I gave in and decided to sell," he says. And thus Kishore sold his land to a private builder for Rs 1.2 crore. The money had to be split with his brother, which left him with Rs 60 lakh. "I had some debts to clear and the rest got spent over the next five years. Today, I am broke," he says.
Another villager, standing next to Kishore, helpfully reminds him that some of that money was also distributed among several liquor stores that have sprung up around the new township. Kishore remains silent as the other man makes the accusation. He bears the slight with indifference and turns away to watch a cow straining its neck to chomp a leaf off a tall plant. It has been some years since Kishore has declared himself to be a loser.
The reason to remain silent is stronger since the man making the accusation is a clear winner in the real estate game. Kanwar Singh, a portly man, proved to be more worldly-wise than hundreds of people such as Kishore who got washed away in a series of land deals that have transformed an agrarian village into a sweet spot for builders. The second in a farming family of five brothers, Kanwar was into dairying until the late '80s. He is one of the many who feel they got a raw deal for the NSG project, when he was offered Rs 50,000.
However, in 1990, Kanwar got around Rs 10 lakh for more than an acre of land that he surrendered to an industrial township. Kanwar immediately bought six acres of land in Rewari, which is today valued at around Rs 2 crore. He also got an additional award of Rs 28 lakh after a Supreme Court order three months ago. He is still holding on to four acres of land in Manesar village, a part of which he has leased to the labourers working at the construction sites in the vicinity and charges around Rs 1,000 per shack. "What do you get for a crore these days?" asks Kanwar in a gruff voice that completes the hardy son-of-the-soil. "Nothing," he answers the question himself.
Crores & Consumerism
Today Kanwar, given the market value of the land he owns, is easily worth around Rs 20 crore. His family owns around five vehicles and his daughter's wedding cost him around Rs 30 lakh. The groom was gifted a car and 15 tolas of gold. But he is still wary about the future. "I need Rs 50,000 a month just to meet basic expenses such as the education of my grandchildren and fuel for the cars apart from groceries," he says.
It's not just Kanwar who feels that there is not much to a crore in these parts. Thanks to the airport and the presence of a number of multinational companies, Gurgaon is one of the fastest-growing real estate markets in the country. And having saturated areas closer to Delhi, the builders have moved en masse to places in the periphery such as Manesar.
In the past five years, thousands of families in these villages have collected crores from builders after parting with land. The new-found affluence sparkles in the congested and filthy surroundings of the village. Even though the amenities in the village have not shown any improvements with overflowing drainage and narrow, congested roads, brand-new SUVs or premium sedans are parked outside almost every third house.
Several villagers have also added floors to their houses to rent out. A MarutiBSE -0.28 % showroom that opened in Manesar a year ago sells around 100 cars a month and expects a 30% increase this year. "Nearly 60% of all transactions are done in cash. People bring cash in cloth bags or wrapped in newspapers or plastic," says an executive at the dealership.
Widening Schisms
In Manesar, there clearly exists two sets of people: those who sold land at a good price; and those who got a bad deal. As the new rich of the village paint their houses, build second homes, buy vehicles and organise lavish weddings for their children, the rest of the village tries to remain nonchalant about their situation. Every day, by around 11 am, groups of people gather at particular points on the street. They spread a mat, pass around a hookah and play cards, through the day.
"We have lost everything we had. Now, we spend our days playing cards," says Rajpal, who was forced to surrender 25 acres for which he got Rs 12.5 lakh in 1985. After the money was split between his brothers, Rajpal had barely enough to build a home, after which he was left penniless. In order to make ends meet, Rajpal, who is a graduate, started working as a labourer. He had to stop working after he injured himself in an accident. Another farmer-turned-labourer, Rampal, who was also living in penury, was one of the players in this group until recently.
Three months ago, a lawyer told him that he would get Rs 75 lakh as compensation for a plot of land he had sold in 1999. "As soon as I got the money, I built this," he says pointing to a small house outside which he has also set up two shops. "I plan to do some business here. I think I will give up cards for a while," grins Rampal even as his old pals play a round opposite his shop.
Party for Parvenus
Signs of the new money that's floating around in Gurgaon's villages are easy to spot in the heart of the city as well. An executive with a BMW franchise says at least 15 times a year, for the past three years, they get a customer who pays in cash. "They walk in with a suitcase and we hand over the keys after the formalities are completed," he says.
Similarly, a sales manager with a premier garments store says there have been instances of villagers running bills of close to a lakh on a shopping spree. "They are not brand-conscious. But if they like something they buy it. No questions asked," says the manager. A women's accessories retailer has a clear formula to arrive at whether a customer is new money or old.
"If the woman is accompanied by a family member and avoids high heels, she is more likely to be new money," he says. He also said that price and brand are of little consequence to this section of society whose purchasing power has swelled virtually overnight. Even as Gurgaon goes about its business as usual, with hundreds of crores changing hands everyday, the old people of the district who are also the new money here are making their impact felt in the heart of the city.
Five years ago, the few pubs situated in the heart of the city were frequented by executives of MNCs and international banks, for whom the city was built. In those days, says the manager of one of these pubs, they used to be frequented by young couples looking to unwind after a hard day's work.
"They appreciated jazz, ordered premium whisky and danced through the evening. They were easy to manage and life was easy for us," he says. But in the past couple of years, a new group of customers has begun frequenting these clubs. These groups are all-male and hail from the suburbs.
"These guys have run into a lot of cash and they also want the good life. The only problem is that now this place has to deal with its share of violence and we have had to screen people," he says. At an adjoining discotheque, a manager suggests while allowing people in: "I am not sure whether this place would be to your taste. This place is a bit like Bangkok."
A group of girls wearing garish make-up walks into the dimly lit discotheque. They dance for a few minutes and some of them leave as suddenly as they arrived. Some of the others remain behind and make eye contact with customers. The customers — mostly middle-aged Hindi-speaking men wearing expensive suits — are the beneficiaries of these land deals.
Some of them immediately hit on the girls and try to get physical on the dance floor. When the scene gets too hot for the girl to handle, a 6'4" muscular bouncer makes a round of the dance floor and things cool down. The men move away from the floor and wait for the bouncer to leave.
Wheels of Change
Yet, for every man who blows up cash, there is one investing and securing the future. Jai Bhagwan, a 23-year-old from near Manesar, made one of the most talked-about land deals in the area in 2010. His family's 4.5-acre farmland was sold for Rs 15 crore per acre. The land was owned by Bhagwan's grandfather and his four brothers. "We got the highest price for land in recent times," says Bhagwan.
The family, after pocketing Rs 67 crore, built a palatial block of adjoining mansions with eight single-storeyhouses. Bhagwan says he has invested money in getting a cement distributorship. His middle-aged cousinChanderbhan says he misses his farm at times. "That is why I bought another plot of agricultural land immediately. So I will continue to do farming even as the family enters new businesses," he says.
On a plot of farmland opposite to where he sits, operators work three JCBs at the site of a multistorey apartment project. As the sun sets on the village dotted with under-construction buildings, Chanderbhan says with a touch of sadness: "Things have changed. Earlier, the village had its own way of life and some unspoken rules. Marriages, for instance, had to be held in summer because that was the only time people had money. But now everyone has plenty of cash, so we have marriages in the winter as much as in the summer. With money, people can do anything they want."
Source : K P NARAYANA KUMAR,ET BUREAU
ET Magazine travels to four such realty hotspots to capture the activity on the ground. First up: Gurgaon, the land of crorepatis and cowherds.
The repeated mention of Rs 1.20 crore that he received for selling his farm unsettles Ram Kishore and he leans on the staff he carries to mind the cows as he unwinds. After all, the money that came his way was spent in a couple of years.
Having sold all his farm land 10 years ago, the 45-year-old has come to terms with the fact that today his station in life has been downgraded from a farmer to a cowherd. The cows, a dozen of them, graze on a large tract of land in Manesar, surrounded by newly-constructed residential apartments that have been built here in the last one year.
"My family survives on the milk from these cows and handouts from sympathetic relatives," says Kishore who is dressed in a worn-out sleeveless sweater, shirt and trousers. In 2003, Kishore, whose family lives inManesar village, on the outskirts of Gurgaon, one of the fastest growing cities in India, was offered the money by a builder for three acres of land.
The farmer did not want to sell the land as he knew the money would not last. But there were rumours floating around that the government was about to acquire more land in their village. The memories of land acquired by the government were painful: a number of villagers had lost all their land for a pittance. Ram Kishore | 45
Money made in land deal: Rs 1.2 crore
What happened to the money: Used to clear debts. In two years, he was broke
Kanwar Singh | 55
Money made in land deal: Rs 38 lakh
What happened to the money: Bought land in Rewari; set up a labour colony from where he collects rent. He is worth at least Rs 20 crore
The Early Days
In the mid 1980s, the National Security Guard (NSG) project was established in Manesar after acquiring land at Rs 50,000 per acre. In the late 1990s when the state government acquired land for an industrial township project, it raised the compensation to Rs 6.4 lakh per acre. On both occasions, the farmers felt cheated as they had got a price far below the market rate.
Ram Kishore thought about the offer for a few days. "I was under constant pressure to sell the land as people kept saying that the government was about to acquire land in the village. Finally, I gave in and decided to sell," he says. And thus Kishore sold his land to a private builder for Rs 1.2 crore. The money had to be split with his brother, which left him with Rs 60 lakh. "I had some debts to clear and the rest got spent over the next five years. Today, I am broke," he says.
Another villager, standing next to Kishore, helpfully reminds him that some of that money was also distributed among several liquor stores that have sprung up around the new township. Kishore remains silent as the other man makes the accusation. He bears the slight with indifference and turns away to watch a cow straining its neck to chomp a leaf off a tall plant. It has been some years since Kishore has declared himself to be a loser.
The reason to remain silent is stronger since the man making the accusation is a clear winner in the real estate game. Kanwar Singh, a portly man, proved to be more worldly-wise than hundreds of people such as Kishore who got washed away in a series of land deals that have transformed an agrarian village into a sweet spot for builders. The second in a farming family of five brothers, Kanwar was into dairying until the late '80s. He is one of the many who feel they got a raw deal for the NSG project, when he was offered Rs 50,000.
However, in 1990, Kanwar got around Rs 10 lakh for more than an acre of land that he surrendered to an industrial township. Kanwar immediately bought six acres of land in Rewari, which is today valued at around Rs 2 crore. He also got an additional award of Rs 28 lakh after a Supreme Court order three months ago. He is still holding on to four acres of land in Manesar village, a part of which he has leased to the labourers working at the construction sites in the vicinity and charges around Rs 1,000 per shack. "What do you get for a crore these days?" asks Kanwar in a gruff voice that completes the hardy son-of-the-soil. "Nothing," he answers the question himself.
Crores & Consumerism
Today Kanwar, given the market value of the land he owns, is easily worth around Rs 20 crore. His family owns around five vehicles and his daughter's wedding cost him around Rs 30 lakh. The groom was gifted a car and 15 tolas of gold. But he is still wary about the future. "I need Rs 50,000 a month just to meet basic expenses such as the education of my grandchildren and fuel for the cars apart from groceries," he says.
It's not just Kanwar who feels that there is not much to a crore in these parts. Thanks to the airport and the presence of a number of multinational companies, Gurgaon is one of the fastest-growing real estate markets in the country. And having saturated areas closer to Delhi, the builders have moved en masse to places in the periphery such as Manesar.
In the past five years, thousands of families in these villages have collected crores from builders after parting with land. The new-found affluence sparkles in the congested and filthy surroundings of the village. Even though the amenities in the village have not shown any improvements with overflowing drainage and narrow, congested roads, brand-new SUVs or premium sedans are parked outside almost every third house.
Several villagers have also added floors to their houses to rent out. A MarutiBSE -0.28 % showroom that opened in Manesar a year ago sells around 100 cars a month and expects a 30% increase this year. "Nearly 60% of all transactions are done in cash. People bring cash in cloth bags or wrapped in newspapers or plastic," says an executive at the dealership.
Widening Schisms
In Manesar, there clearly exists two sets of people: those who sold land at a good price; and those who got a bad deal. As the new rich of the village paint their houses, build second homes, buy vehicles and organise lavish weddings for their children, the rest of the village tries to remain nonchalant about their situation. Every day, by around 11 am, groups of people gather at particular points on the street. They spread a mat, pass around a hookah and play cards, through the day.
"We have lost everything we had. Now, we spend our days playing cards," says Rajpal, who was forced to surrender 25 acres for which he got Rs 12.5 lakh in 1985. After the money was split between his brothers, Rajpal had barely enough to build a home, after which he was left penniless. In order to make ends meet, Rajpal, who is a graduate, started working as a labourer. He had to stop working after he injured himself in an accident. Another farmer-turned-labourer, Rampal, who was also living in penury, was one of the players in this group until recently.
Three months ago, a lawyer told him that he would get Rs 75 lakh as compensation for a plot of land he had sold in 1999. "As soon as I got the money, I built this," he says pointing to a small house outside which he has also set up two shops. "I plan to do some business here. I think I will give up cards for a while," grins Rampal even as his old pals play a round opposite his shop.
Party for Parvenus
Signs of the new money that's floating around in Gurgaon's villages are easy to spot in the heart of the city as well. An executive with a BMW franchise says at least 15 times a year, for the past three years, they get a customer who pays in cash. "They walk in with a suitcase and we hand over the keys after the formalities are completed," he says.
Similarly, a sales manager with a premier garments store says there have been instances of villagers running bills of close to a lakh on a shopping spree. "They are not brand-conscious. But if they like something they buy it. No questions asked," says the manager. A women's accessories retailer has a clear formula to arrive at whether a customer is new money or old.
"If the woman is accompanied by a family member and avoids high heels, she is more likely to be new money," he says. He also said that price and brand are of little consequence to this section of society whose purchasing power has swelled virtually overnight. Even as Gurgaon goes about its business as usual, with hundreds of crores changing hands everyday, the old people of the district who are also the new money here are making their impact felt in the heart of the city.
Five years ago, the few pubs situated in the heart of the city were frequented by executives of MNCs and international banks, for whom the city was built. In those days, says the manager of one of these pubs, they used to be frequented by young couples looking to unwind after a hard day's work.
"They appreciated jazz, ordered premium whisky and danced through the evening. They were easy to manage and life was easy for us," he says. But in the past couple of years, a new group of customers has begun frequenting these clubs. These groups are all-male and hail from the suburbs.
"These guys have run into a lot of cash and they also want the good life. The only problem is that now this place has to deal with its share of violence and we have had to screen people," he says. At an adjoining discotheque, a manager suggests while allowing people in: "I am not sure whether this place would be to your taste. This place is a bit like Bangkok."
A group of girls wearing garish make-up walks into the dimly lit discotheque. They dance for a few minutes and some of them leave as suddenly as they arrived. Some of the others remain behind and make eye contact with customers. The customers — mostly middle-aged Hindi-speaking men wearing expensive suits — are the beneficiaries of these land deals.
Some of them immediately hit on the girls and try to get physical on the dance floor. When the scene gets too hot for the girl to handle, a 6'4" muscular bouncer makes a round of the dance floor and things cool down. The men move away from the floor and wait for the bouncer to leave.
Wheels of Change
Yet, for every man who blows up cash, there is one investing and securing the future. Jai Bhagwan, a 23-year-old from near Manesar, made one of the most talked-about land deals in the area in 2010. His family's 4.5-acre farmland was sold for Rs 15 crore per acre. The land was owned by Bhagwan's grandfather and his four brothers. "We got the highest price for land in recent times," says Bhagwan.
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The family, after pocketing Rs 67 crore, built a palatial block of adjoining mansions with eight single-storeyhouses. Bhagwan says he has invested money in getting a cement distributorship. His middle-aged cousinChanderbhan says he misses his farm at times. "That is why I bought another plot of agricultural land immediately. So I will continue to do farming even as the family enters new businesses," he says.
Source : K P NARAYANA KUMAR,ET BUREAU
