India today stands at a fascinating crossroads. It is simultaneously battling global uncertainties and pursuing ambitious dreams. It is the world’s most populous nation, the fastest-growing major economy, an emerging military power, and a technology hub that increasingly competes with the best in the world. Yet, it remains heavily dependent on imported energy and vulnerable to geopolitical disruptions, particularly those emanating from West Asia.
The recent turbulence in the region has once again highlighted an uncomfortable reality: India imports nearly 85 per cent of its crude oil requirements. Every spike in international oil prices impacts the country’s economy, foreign exchange reserves, inflation management, and ultimately the common citizen. Prime Minister Narendra Modi’s appeal for judicious energy consumption, therefore, deserves serious consideration beyond routine fuel-saving campaigns.
But what if India could think bigger?
What if the country reimagined not just how energy is consumed, but how governance itself is physically structured?
For decades, India’s political, bureaucratic and judicial elite have occupied sprawling official residences spread across several acres of prime urban land. Many of these properties are relics of colonial governance, designed not for efficiency but for privilege. At a time when urban land is scarce, traffic congestion is choking cities, and environmental sustainability has become a national priority, one must ask a legitimate question: Do public servants still require such vast estates to discharge their constitutional responsibilities?
The issue is not one of comfort. It is one of rationality.
Imagine if Members of Parliament, legislators, senior bureaucrats and even members of the higher judiciary were housed in modern, secure, high-quality residential complexes located within walking distance of their workplaces. Such integrated residential communities could include sports facilities, healthcare centres, supermarkets, recreational spaces and green zones, ensuring a comfortable lifestyle without the excessive land footprint of traditional bungalows.
The benefits would be enormous.
According to government estimates, road transport accounts for a significant share of India’s petroleum consumption. Meanwhile, Indian cities lose billions of productive hours annually due to traffic congestion. If thousands of official vehicle movements could be eliminated every day by enabling lawmakers, administrators and judges to walk to work, the cumulative savings in fuel, emissions and public expenditure would be substantial.
The environmental gains would be equally impressive. India’s major metropolitan centres consistently struggle with air pollution. Reduced vehicle usage would directly contribute to cleaner air, lower carbon emissions and healthier urban ecosystems.
Equally important is land utilisation.
Prime urban land occupied by oversized government residences could be repurposed for public infrastructure, green spaces, educational institutions, affordable housing projects, or commercial development that generates revenue for the exchequer. In cities where land values run into hundreds of crores per acre, such reform could unlock enormous economic potential.
The Modi government has already demonstrated a willingness to challenge colonial-era practices. The redevelopment of the Central Vista, the renaming of Rajpath as Kartavya Path, and efforts to reclaim and rationalise the use of government assets indicate a broader vision of modern governance. Extending this philosophy to official housing would be a logical next step.
The proposal need not stop with legislators. Senior bureaucrats, judges, defence officers and other high-ranking officials could also be accommodated in thoughtfully planned residential clusters close to their places of work. Integration with metro rail networks, airports and major transport hubs would further reduce dependency on private vehicles and strengthen urban mobility.
Critics may dismiss such an idea as radical. Yet every transformative reform initially appears radical. What seems unconventional today often becomes common sense tomorrow.
India’s aspiration to become a developed nation by 2047 demands more than economic growth figures and infrastructure announcements. It requires bold thinking about how public resources are utilised. It requires governance models that reflect efficiency rather than entitlement. Most importantly, it requires leaders willing to challenge inherited structures that no longer serve contemporary needs.
In that context, many believe the Modi government’s decision to reclaim the sprawling 30-acre property occupied by the Delhi Gymkhana Club in the national capital is a step in the right direction. Similar questions can also be asked about other colonial-era institutions, such as the Bombay Gymkhana and several exclusive clubs across major Indian cities that continue to enjoy vast tracts of prime urban land originally granted during British rule.
As India strives to become a global role model, the question is simple: Should valuable urban land and public resources continue to sustain colonial-era privileges, or should they be reimagined to serve national priorities?
The answer could save energy, reduce pollution, improve urban planning, unlock economic value and set an example for future generations.
Sometimes, the biggest reforms begin with the simplest question: Can we use what we have more wisely?
