Berkley Center

Try 20 minutes away from central Pune, a bustling metropolis of the seventh largest city in India where I am spending my semester abroad.

Magarpatta City is a modern township on the outskirts of Pune consisting of a mini golf course, an artificial lake, multistoried residential apartments, and a flourishing information technology park. It promises 32,000 trees and a “new way of life for the networked society of the new millennium.” How is this neatly planned, creepily spotless, zero-crime, zero-poverty place real——and in India?

Being a development enthusiast in India can be a little overwhelming. After reading philosopher Amartya Sen's Development as Freedom sophomore year, I began to judge every development scheme from water management to education equity in terms of how much agency local people were given. As far as Magarpatta City goes, many domestic and international developers consider it a model of future communities in developing countries. My "Political Economy" professor announced a field visit to Magarpatta City to give us a lens into modern development as we finish discussing theories in light of India’'s explosive growth. I was excited to see this “different kind of development” marketed as an alternative to the coercive land acquisition and exclusive development projects happening across India.

Hailed as an “innovative township,” Margapatta City is the result of 123 farm families pooling 400 acres of ancestral farmland and setting up a private company that developed a commercial-cum-residential project. To oppose the Pune administrators seeking to convert their agricultural village into an urban zone, the farmers decided to embrace urbanization on their own terms. Now the same farmers own shares in the company proportionate to the value of their land, earn dividends on the shares they hold, rent from tenants, and make more money from contractual work for the company.

By holding principles of environment control, good living standards, modern education, and total security, Margapatta City's 7,000 citizens adapted the San Jose walk-to-work and walk-to-school model. Only here can one “enjoy an environment which vibrates with positive energy to live life better.”

Margapatta City feels like a cross between an extremely sterile section of Manhattan's financial district and a desolate army base. Because it is meters away from the hopelessly chaotic squalor of Pune, the glossy uniform information technology and apartment buildings of Margapatta are appealing, yet seem Pleasantville-perfect. The foreign look and promise of “a fresh way of life” provide respite from the dust, potholes, noise, and broken roads of urban India. The development of the city emphasizes a growing popularity towards Western living and desires for security, leisure, and transportation.

When I asked the marketing executive of the company where the religious centers were on the impressive model of Magarpatta City in the glass case, he shook his head. “"We celebrate all services at the ‘Cultural Center’ here."” My mouth flew open. One cannot walk more than 100 meters without running into a place of worship or an idol in Pune. Religious holidays occur frequently; literally everyday involves some kind of worship, even if it is morning sun salutations. The marketing executive went on to explain that the community celebrates Christmas just as they celebrate Diwali. Though impressed with the religious inclusiveness, I still felt like the ‘cultural center’ was another substitute for Indian tradition. Just like the fake pond, the promise of a city where “religions and cultures melt and become one” left me with uneasiness.

Besides homogenizing Indian culture, Margapatta City doesn't really constitute development in my opinion. That original group of farmers is surely pleased with its amplified income, but switching from farming to capitalism was not a systemic change. If one has to make an average income of 70,000 rupees a month to afford an apartment here, the rising tide is not lifting all boats.

How do you build community in a place like this where traditional Indian values of family and shared space seem distant? I wonder if the 11 p.m. to 7 a.m. quiet hours and 24-hour security feel restrictive. Discussing our class visit afterwards yielded words like “bubble,” “safe haven,” and “dystopia.” Our professor couldn't figure out why a bunch of Americans felt so uneasy in a place she perceived as our normal surroundings. Stepping out of myself for a moment, I looked back at my rural upbringing. Though not technically the suburbs, Durham, Connecticut is a pretty isolated and isolating place. It was clean, safe, and comfortable. Feeling hypocritical for my criticism, I racked my brain for why Margapatta City felt unsettling. I guess it is the slogan that unsettles me: "“the pride of Pune."” Though I've only been here two months, the pride of Pune is not an information technology park you can reside in. Pune is an incredible, buzzing melting pot of international intellectuals, faiths, socioeconomic classes, and cultural diversity.

Magarpatta's CCTV cameras, guard checks, strong gates, and security teams may produce a 0 percent crime rate, but these measures also close Magarpatta to the rest of Pune. The isolation is reminiscent of Washington, DC'’s gentrification pushing out vulnerable populations into other communities. What will happen to the children growing up here, perhaps not even knowing the suffering and incredible diversity just meters away? Will they awaken to the real world or remain trapped in Plato's cave? Perhaps that is a little overly dramatic, but after falling in love with all of India, including its grime amidst beauty, Magarpatta felt like a monoculture…—and thus un-Indian.