Chandigarh’s unplanned shadow

Once an agrarian settlement, Jagatpura, on the outskirts of Chandigarh and Mohali, has transformed into a dense hub of informal rental housing for  thousands of migrant workers who navigate precarious living conditions, high rents and exclusion from the city they help build.

Anuj Behal

Row houses built by migrants on land leased from the local zamindar, for which they pay a monthly rent in Jagaputra. Anuj Behal/The Migration Story

JAGATPURA, Punjab: Akhilesh, 23, a daily wage worker in Chandigarh, cycles home every day on the city's planned cycle lanes to its outskirts. Like thousands of  other migrant workers, he makes his way towards the airport road near Sector 48, heading to his rented makeshift home in Jagatpura.

Jagatpura, a village in Punjab’s SAS Nagar district, sits on the southern periphery of Mohali and Chandigarh and has become home to a growing migrant population, primarily from Uttar Pradesh and Bihar. As locals rent out land and houses to these workers, the village’s demographic landscape has shifted. In the October 2024 panchayat polls, migrant voters far outnumbered native residents, with 5,536 registered migrants compared to just 900 locals.

Akhilesh, who hails from Hardoi district in Uttar Pradesh, was a child when he  arrived in Jagatpura with his parents in the early 2000s. They first stayed with relatives before building their own jhuggi (tenement) on a local farmer’s land, for which they still pay ₹5,000 a month. “He let us build two rooms on his land. This was the only place we could afford. Where else in Chandigarh can you find a rented place this cheap?” Akhilesh said.

Cycles, the primary mode of commute for workers traveling from the village to Chandigarh or Mohali, can also be seen parked outside houses in the colony. Anuj Behal/The Migration Story

In the late 2000s, many families settled in Jagatpura, some like Akhilesh’s making it their only home, while others arrived in response to the demolition of the city's labour colonies. 

Sunita Devi, 58, first came to Chandigarh from a village near Sandila in Uttar Pradesh as a teenager with her parents who were in search of work. “I think they heard about the new city being built on radio,” she recalled. “Our village had nothing. No farming. No work. It still doesn’t. Bilkul junglee dehat jaisa tha (It was like a rural expanse in the wilderness).”

Moving to Chandigarh back then, Sunita recalls living in a jhuggi in Sector 5—once considered one of the city’s largest slums with at least 30,000 residents. “My mother worked in a house nearby… later, I did too. I raised my children there and got married there. My husband has been a daily wage labourer in the city for as long as I can remember,” she said.

But in 2014, the slum was demolished to make way for the expansion of Vikas Marg, an arterial road. While some residents were allotted one-room houses under the slum rehabilitation scheme in Dhanas, Sunita’s family was not among the lucky ones.

“We never thought having documents would matter. Back then, even our ration card was of our village,” she said. Displaced from Sector 5, Sunita moved with her family and close relatives to Jagatpura. She now lives in a 10x12 tin shed with mortared walls with her husband. Her son, his family and other relatives also live on the same land, each renting a similar room for ₹3,000 a month.

Over the past two decades,  thousands of people in Chandigarh have been rendered homeless as the administration has demolished settlements like Colony Number 5, Mazdoor Colony, Kuldeep Colony, Pandit Colony, Nehru Colony, Ambedkar Colony, Kajheri Colony, and Madrasi Colony—just as it did in Sector 5.

Forgotten ‘Builders’ and Their Settlements

A tree-flanked road in Chandigarh. Pic credit: Wikimedia Commons

Chandigarh, the capital of Punjab and Haryana, was planned and designed in the 1950s and ’60s as part of Jawaharlal Nehru’s vision—an expression of the nation’s faith in the future. Conceived as a city shaped by the State, it aimed to cultivate a new kind of citizen for a post-colonial, democratic India. Yet, despite its proclaimed egalitarian ideals, Chandigarh has evolved into a city tailored for neoliberal India. Despite the claims of Chandigarh’s planners and administrators that the city would provide housing for the “poorest of the poor”, the city's blueprint never accounted for its labouring population even though construction workers made up the majority of its earliest residents.

During the first two years of Chandigarh’s construction, an estimated 30,000 men and women laboured to bring the city’s masterplan to life. While they were exoticised by the city’s principal designer Le Corbusier, who spoke about the “picturesqueness of the Indian enterprise” at a 1953 conference in Paris,  the fact remains that these workers slaved to build the city, starting with their own makeshift shelters near construction sites.

Le Corbusier documented these rudimentary settlements, marking the rise of Chandigarh’s first labour colonies. Many sprang up near major projects like  Capitol Complex, Chandigarh’s administrative hub, and Sector 22, a key residential and commercial sector, while others emerged around brick kilns that supplied cheap materials, keeping construction costs low.

The planned city of Chandigarh was thus shaped alongside its unplanned settlements. In the early years, these labour colonies expanded far more rapidly than the city itself, forming an integral, yet overlooked, part of its history.

According to the 2011 Census, Chandigarh recorded 206,642 migrant workers. However, its rigid grid layout, functional zoning and tree-lined boulevards have attracted capital and property owners while systematically excluding the working poor, said Anu Sabhlok, professor at IISER Mohali.  “The emergence of rental housing in Jagatpura is a direct response to the city's anti-poor policies, where only the urban elite finds space,” she said.

Rows of houses in the village of Jagatpura—some now even owned by the migrant families who once rented them. Anuj Behal/The Migration Story

Jagatpura’s location on the outskirts of Chandigarh and Mohali has made it a prime location for migrants seeking affordable rental housing. Over the past two decades, the village has transformed, with local landlords converting agricultural land into makeshift rental accommodation. Single- and double-storey structures have sprung up, with shared water connections and public toilets serving entire colonies—some even enclosed within gates. The village’s economy itself is shaped by these workers, with most local shops run by migrants catering to their own.

Many landowners lease out plots on a monthly basis, allowing migrant workers like Akhilesh to construct their own jhuggis in exchange for rent. Yet, none of these arrangements are formalised through rental agreements. 

According to Baldev Singh, 49, a native of Jagatpura who has built houses for around 25 workers on his agricultural land, the village has seen a steady rise in migrants over the last 20 years. “People have been living here for quite some time,” he said. “Initially, they made their own arrangements, but later we created space for them and built small housing units. We don’t even have to worry about cultivating the land or crop failures—this set-up brings in far more income than farming ever could.”

But, for migrants like Sunita, moving to Jagatpura has come with an added financial burden. “Back then, in Sector 5, we had our own jhuggi, but now we have to pay rent,” she said. Commuting has also become more challenging, with most workers cycling daily to jobs in Mohali or Chandigarh. 

Living on the Margins

Double-storey structures with single-room units are rapidly coming up in the village, mostly built by local residents looking to profit from rental housing demand. Anuj Behal/The Migration Story

As Jagatpura expands to accommodate the city’s increasing migrant workforce, the stark contrast between its landscape and Chandigarh’s planned order becomes immediately apparent. Upon entering the village, one is met with piles of garbage, a broken main road and a foul-smelling drain running through the settlement. For Jagatpura’s residents, these dire conditions have become an inescapable reality.

“There is so much illness here because of the filth,” said Sunita. “Even if we complain to the gram panchayat, nobody listens. Nobody does anything.”

Ranjit Singh Rana, a local resident, echoed similar concerns. “Our village has turned into a filthy slum, almost like a dumping ground. People throw garbage everywhere, and no one takes responsibility,” he said, pointing to the mounds of waste piling up. “The stench has made daily life unbearable.”

Sharing its boundary with Chandigarh International Airport, the village's unchecked waste has also led to a rise in the bird population, increasing the risk of bird strikes. The Punjab State Human Rights Commission in July 2024, took suo motu cognisance of the issue after an article titled  ‘Jagatpura dumps raise flight safety concerns’ was published in a newspaper, its response coming only when the garbage posed a risk to air travel. Despite its concern, months later, when The Migration Story visited in February, heaps of garbage remained scattered across the village.

The unchecked waste has seeped into the groundwater, worsening the crisis. Additionally, contaminated water from the drains frequently mixes with the drinking supply due to leaks in the pipelines.

Most migrant colonies in Jagatpura rely on shared tap water systems. Each colony has its own motorised pump, which residents must pay for. “Each household pays anywhere between ₹300 and ₹1,500, depending on family size,” said Akhilesh, who lives with his family of nine and pays ₹1,200 to his landlord on top of a ₹5,000 monthly rent for their tin-roofed home. “The landlord calls it an electricity charge to run the pump twice a day.”

Despite the substantial sum, there was perpetually a foul smell in the tap water, hand pumps, and even submersible pumps, added Akhilesh. “The drinking water here is simply not safe,” he said. “If an outsider drinks it, they’ll definitely fall sick.” Yet, with no alternative, Jagatpura’s residents are left with no choice but to rely on this contaminated water for drinking and household chores.

Another pressing concern for residents is the lack of proper sanitation facilities. In some areas, as many as 15 to 20 families are forced to share a single toilet and bathroom. With no government assistance, residents are left to manage these facilities themselves, often having to unclog blocked drains and maintain the infrastructure.

Heaps of garbage lie scattered almost everywhere in Jagatpura, visible as soon as you enter the village.

Anuj Behal/The Migration Story

In the absence of proper washrooms, men often bathe outdoors, while women are forced to navigate unhygienic and unsanitary community toilets. Sonia, 38, a resident of Akhilesh’s colony, recounted, “The shared toilets in our locality don’t even have doors. Someone has to hold up a cloth for privacy while you use them.”

Sonia and her husband, Babu, moved to Jagatpura 12 years ago after their jhuggi was demolished, hoping to find affordable housing. However, she explained that even basic utilities come at a cost. “The government claims that electricity is free in Punjab, but we still have to pay ₹12 per unit to our landlord,” she pointed out.

 The Migration Story has reached out to Mohali deputy commissioner Komal Mittal for a response on migrant workers' issues, including concerns about  housing, sanitation and access to essential services. We will update the article if and when we receive a response.

Precarious Homes, Uncertain Claims

Self-constructed row houses by migrants on land rented from the local zamindar, with a monthly payment arrangement. Anuj Behal/The Migration Story

Sonia built her own jhuggi on land owned by a landlord, but the threat of eviction looms over her constantly. With no formal rental agreement, even a day’s delay in payment leads to harassment. “If we can’t pay on time, they tell us to leave and set up our jhuggi elsewhere,” she said.

In such disputes, seeking help from the local panchayat offers little hope, as migrants are mostly treated as outsiders. Sonia’s neighbour echoed the sentiment, saying, “No one listens to us here. No one cares about bhaiyyas like us. People from UP and Bihar are only valued for their labour; they get no respect.”

In October 2024, the Punjab State Election Commission suspended the panchayat elections in Jagatpura village, following complaints from native residents about the inclusion of migrant voters from the adjacent Guru Nanak Colony. The migrants, numbering approximately 5,536, significantly outnumbered the 900 native residents. The commissioner directed the removal of these voters from Jagatpura’s voter list before proceeding with the elections. 

“They told us we couldn’t vote because we aren’t from here,” said Sonia, who lives in Guru Nanak Colony. “But even if we had got the right to vote, who will  go and contest the elections? The representatives are all these landlords—we don’t stand a chance.”

Paying rent on time offers no security to the migrants. Pointing to a garbage-strewn patch of land near the airport boundary, Sonia recalled how the settlement once extended beyond it—until families were forcibly evicted. In October 2018, the Greater Mohali Area Development Authority (GMADA) carried out a major demolition drive, razing around 75 structures which were deemed “illegal constructions”. The demolition followed a Punjab and Haryana high court order barring construction within 100 metres of Chandigarh International Airport. A similar demolition drive in June 2016 had targeted at least 250 hutments.

For those living in makeshift homes on plots allegedly owned by landlords, the uncertainty is even deeper. None of the residents could confirm whether their landlord even owned the land they were paying for. “We just know that he says it's his,” said Akhilesh of his landlord. “And that we have to pay rent to Jassi every month.”

Edited by Radha Rajadhyaksha

Anuj Behal is an independent journalist and urban researcher primarily focusing on urban informality, justice, gender, and sexuality