ON THE MORNING OF JUNE 16, a vacation bench in the Delhi High Court sat down to hear the plea of jhuggi-dwellers from Wazipur, a north Delhi municipality, facing an imminent demolition of their homes, trailing alongside bustling railway tracks. Already on June 2, around a hundred homes had been razed to dust, just two weeks after a notice pasted by the Railway Administration, Northern Railways, had warned of bulldozing homes within a week. But the residents, most of them migrant wage workers and domestic helpers, had not gotten any effective hearing, and were left overnight shelterless in Delhi’s sweltering heat. There was another issue.
While the notice stated that the jhuggis had to be removed due to difficulty in spotting the railway traffic signal by train pilots owing to blockade by upper floors of some jhuggis, when the bulldozers came, they razed down entire buildings. There was almost no rhyme or rhythm to which homes were targeted, or why.
Three days after the demolition, came a second notice, a replica of the previous one, warning of further demolitions. Before Justice Tejas Karia in the High Court, one defining question was whether a stay could be imposed - on paper, there seemed to be violations with the Draft Protocol for removal of Jhuggis and JJ Bastis in Delhi, notified in 2016, which had outlined a clear sequence of procedural compliances before any bulldozer touched a house. Justice Karia issued notice, but there was no stay.
That day, around 200 police personnel had marched into the jhuggi area in Ashok Vihar - different patches of jhuggis around the region would be demolished in huge drives, slowly and slowly, until on June 25, heavy bulldozer machinery reached the homes beside the railway tracks too.
In the recent spate of demolitions of jhuggis and migrant worker settlements in Delhi, a pattern of arbitrary reasoning emerges. In the past two weeks, homes in the Bhomiheen camp in Kalkaji, and the old Tamil settlement of Madrasi camp in south-east Delhi have been razed to dust, only a portion of the residents getting any rehabilitation support. In Okhla’s Muslim populated Batla house, fear of imminent demolitions looms large, as the High Court sits over its decision in a reserved order in a batch of petitions. Courts have, so far, failed to grant any substantial relief, or in Madrasi camp’s case, played an explicit role in fortifying its ill fate.
The Leaflet looked closely at claims raised by the Delhi government for demolition of two specific settlements - Wazirpur (settlements in the Chander Shekhar Azad Colony), and Madrasi camp in Jangpura. While the Wazirpur demolitions were allegedly in the interest of railway safety, Madrasi camp was accused of causing monsoon floods in the Jangpura and Nizamuddin region and blocking the Barapulla canal.
“Most anti-encroachment actions are being carried out in compliance with court orders,” Delhi chief minister Rekha Gupta claimed on June 8, also noting that Madrasi camp’s court-ordered removal was critical, “otherwise, 2023-like floods would be seen again in Delhi.”
However, independent studies, one by a team of scientific experts, that were on record with the High Court noted that Madrasi camp had only a “minimal”, if any role at all, in choking the canal. Instead, the main reason seemed to be leftover debris from the construction of a new bridge, abandoned by the Public Works Department and the Delhi Development Authority, and lack of desilting exercises.
In the hearings, the High Court refused to engage with this line of reasoning, orally observing in fact that it would not question the State’s version of reality. As with Wazirpur, in Madrasi camp too, a disproportionate move, based on an arbitrary reasoning with full nod by the High Court, had led to expedited demolitions. A pattern emerges of vaguely framed justifications giving way to a systemic narrative to clear out the city of its poor, on whose back urban life and landscape in the capital is being built.
Did Madrasi camp really cause flooding in Jangpura and Nizamuddin?
The six-decade old Madrasi camp’s demolition, which at that time officially hosted over 350 houses, was different from the rest in a crucial aspect - it was the High Court, and not the Delhi government, on whose initiative this happened. It also emerged from a writ petition that had nothing to do with the settlement.
Last year, a writ was filed by Shabnam Burney, a journalist, against some private builders for alleged illegal construction activities in Shaheen Bagh. On July 8, 2024, in a move that expanded jurisdiction beyond Shaheen Baghdusi, a bench of Acting chief justice Manmohan (later elevated to the Supreme Court in December 2024) and Justice Tushar Rao Gedela, ordered for demolition of encroachments along the entire Yamuna plain.
Notably, Madrasi camp fell under the category of a protected settlement under the Delhi Urban Shelter Improvement Board (‘DUSIB’) Act, 2010, and within DUSIB’s official list of 675 notified jhuggi clusters (at serial number 15). As per the DUSIB protocol, and a critical judgement of the High Court in Ajay Maken (2019), Madrasi camp could not have been levelled without a detailed survey, eligibility checks and in-situ rehabilitation efforts.
The thrust of the decision to target Madrasi camp specifically was flooding in posh localities of Jangpura, Nizamuddin and Defence Colony in the 2024 monsoons following an overflow of the Barapulla drain. Many basement law chambers were inundated with drainwater. On August 30, 2024, district wise teams were formed by the chief secretary of the Delhi government and with representatives nominated by DUSIB, Irrigation and Flood Control Department, MCD and PWD to identify encroachments - Madrasi camp was rounded out as one of the spots.
In a status report submitted by the I&FC department on September 20, there were two primary allegations against the camp: first, that, of eleven water bays in the Old Barapulla bridge, three were “totally blocked due to existence of Jhuggis of Madrasi camp on the right side of the drain at downstream of the Old Barapulla bridge”, and second, the department had been unable to carry desilting work between Old Barapulla bridge and Railway line bridge “as there is no access available for deployment of the machine due to existence of unauthorized encroachment.”
Notably, the department’s status report provided no photographic or scientific evidence to substantiate either of these allegations. In early October, a site visit by residents of Madrasi camp along with lawyers representing them found loopholes in many of these claims: the choking of the Barapulla drain was evident (they claimed that 75 percent of the drain was blocked), but the truth of it was a little different from the government’s version.
Dispersed piles of construction debris - large concrete slabs, and large stones - left abandoned in the drain during different phases of construction of flyovers and metro rails seemed to be the more plausible cause of the blockage.
That same month, a two-member delegation consisting of A.K. Roy, director of the Hazards Centre in Delhi, and Girish Agrawal, a professor at the TRIPP Centre in IIT Delhi conducted another independent fact-finding site visit (also made available to the Court) which found an even more systemic cause of the floods: poor planning in the construction of three different bridges over the Barapulla drain, built over three different timelines.
Understanding the sequence of constructions briefly is critical.
In 2010, the Delhi government completed the Banda Bahadur Margh (‘BBM’) elevated corridor, today a 79 kilometre corridor connecting Mayur Vihar in east Delhi to AIIMS in south Delhi. The mega-flyover slices through south-east Delhi as a defining symbolism of urbanity and brutalism, and at some point also crosses the Barapulla drain.
Here, atop an interjagged junction that goes towards the Nizamuddin railway station, the BBM flyover causes a critical choke point, where when seen from the top, it intersects with two other smaller bridges below it. Below are the new concrete bridge, built in 1990, and the Old Barapulla stone bridge, a four centuries old Mughal bridge which once gave passage to visitors from Humayun’s Tomb to the Nizamuddin Dargah.
By analysing satellite imagery from 2010 before the BBM flyover was constructed, Roy and Agrawal found that the pillars of BBM were constructed very close to not only the new concrete bridge and the old Barapulla bridge, but also the railway bridge that goes towards the station. Further, they found that the drain’s stream had been diverted in at least three places: upstream of the new concrete bridge (shown as point 14), downstream of the old stone bridge (point 15), and downstream of the railway bridge (point 16).
Comparing the satellite images from 2010 to those in 2023, the report found that during BBM’s construction, soil was removed from the stream bed and the debris from the shift remains (at points 17 and 18, and deposited upstream of the new concrete bridge at point 19), severely restricting flow. It is not just the BBM that is to blame - when the scientists visited the site, they found that even pillars of the new concrete bridge built in 2010 were not in line with the arches of the old bridge, creating obstruction. Further, of the eleven original arches of the old Barapulla bridge, three are buried at the southern end since a concrete platform has been constructed there to hold a high tension electricity tower. One pillar, while open from one side, is blocked from the other, and apart from one spot, the 2010 bridge, and the old bridge are completely misaligned, with patches of garbage and slow stream floating under them.
Finally there is the railway bridge, whose beams rest on two piers, and near which, in the middle of the stream, the scientists also found a manhole, indicating a sewerage system. Close to this railway bridge, on the left is the Madrasi camp. The report explicitly noted that the Madrasi basti “is well above the water line”, and that the “obstruction to drainage by the three bridges and the flyover would be the real causes of degradation by virtue of their design and placement.” According to Roy and Agrawal, Madrasi camp was located on “a patch of high ground on the right bank of the Nala and between the old stone bridge and the railway bridge” and its “contribution to drainage flow” was “minimal and remote.”
The other site-visit by the residents and lawyers also found that there was sufficient space for cranes, trucks and other vehicles to undertake desilting work.
With this overwhelming evidence, an application was filed on October 5, 2024, by a Madrasi camp resident for the appointment of a local commissioner for one more third party scientific cross-checking of the government’s allegation. Despite all of this, in the next hearing on October 23, the bench of Chief Justice Manmohan and Justice Manmeet Pritam Singh Arora completely disregarded the two site visit findings brought on record and, by obfuscating facts, noted that there was “no dispute between the parties that the 214 Jhuggis of Madrasi Camp…are causing obstruction to the unhindered flow of Barapullah Nallah.”
Rupali Samuel, an advocate based in New Delhi, who represented the residents recalled that when they pressed for a local commissioner to be appointed to verify the factual situation, the High Court orally stated that it would not entertain any contravention of what was stated the DDA on affidavit.
Seven months later, on May 3, 2025, a demolition notice was pasted in the camp, stating that encroachments along the Barapulla drain would be removed by a special task force on May 10. After first refusing an urgent hearing, on May 9, the High Court refused to grant a stay.
On June 1, as per the HC’s directions, the first wave of demolitions began. 370 families would be displaced and only 189 would be granted rehabilitation. Over the next few days, residents rendered homeless would queue up for relief from the Tamil Nadu government, around 200 families would seek rented accommodation, and the rest would pack up for the rehab camp in Narela fifty kilometres away.
"I have clearly said that if the court has ordered something, neither the government nor the administration can do anything about it,” chief minister Rekha Gupta said on June 8, “The truth about the demolition of Madrasi Camp is that it was set up on the banks of the Barapullah drain…Otherwise, 2023-like floods would be seen again in Delhi. No one can defy court orders.”
In Wazirpur, questions emerge on the necessity to demolish houses along rail tracks
Ten kilometres in the northwestern direction from Madrasi camp, a pack of JCB bulldozers rolled into Wazirpur in the high noon of June 25.
“Four bulldozers came at once, each razing down our neighbourhood from a different direction. They came suddenly in the afternoon with some police officers,” said Shanti Devi, a resident of Wazirpur who worked as a cook and lost her home of several years, shared between her younger sister, her mother and aged father. She claimed that her father came to the region fifty years ago.
Justice Karia’s last order had directed the central government to file a reply by around July 7 - the matter meant to be next listed on July 17.
Even before filing its reply, the government’s bulldozers had arrived on the doorstep for a repeat of the demolitions on June 2. Here, too, much like Madrasi camp, the region came under DUSIB’s list of 675 protected jhuggis (at serial number 344) and here too, the reasoning for the demolitions is central to the story, and full of logical overreach.
The first notice in Wazirpur was put up on May 19. It noted that “unauthorized jhuggis” along a specific track between Daya Basti and Adarsh Nagar “have been extended up to two storeys in height, due to which the drivers of all trains passing through Daya Basti are facing obstruction in viewing the railway signal from an appropriate distance.” Due to this, it stated that traffic operations were being disrupted “increasing the risk of accidents.”
The notice then gave residents one week to either voluntarily remove the jhuggis or “lower them below the level of the railway signal.” If neither were done within a week, the notice clearly stated that “the administration will demolish only those jhuggis/houses which are obstructing train drivers from viewing the railway signal from an appropriate distance.”
However, when the demolition drive started on June 2, based on this notice, the felling was indiscriminate - entire jhuggis were razed down, rendering several families homeless in the heat. The prospect of demolishing only the upper floors of the specific houses responsible for the blocking of the signal seemed to never have been a consideration.
Shanti Devi’s home, for instance, was a single storeyed jhuggi along this stretch consisting of two rooms. Eventhough her home did not have an upper floor which could have blocked any railway signal view, it was brought down.
“They did not even let us take out our belongings. We lost everything,” Devi told The Leaflet.
In November 2024, a Supreme Court bench of Justices B.R. Gavai and K.V. Viswanathan passed a critical judgement: bulldozer demolitions were an “extreme” and “disproportionate” move. The order provided two alternative pathways if there were violations of local laws: first, there may be illegal constructions that would be “compoundable”, and second, that in some constructions, if particular parts are illegal, only that part can be removed.
However, in a separate paragraph, the Court created a costly set of exceptions, among which was the exception of public places like roads, streets or footpaths “abutting railway lines” inter alia. Commentators have noted this to be a “conspicuous” flaw in the judgement, which excluded the “constituency that might need its protection the most.”
The logic of a lesser intrusive move was never attempted in Wazirpur, and in the second wave of demolitions beginning from June 25 as well, all houses, nearing a hundred, along the stretch, irrespective of how much, and which upper floors obstructed the signal, were brought down completely.
The truth of these demolitions
Residents of Madrasi camp have alleged that the real number of houses that were demolished were close to 700, almost double the number provided by the government. The proposed relocation to Narela has been an arduous development in the lives of the residents, some of whom are Delhi’s daily wage workers, some even workers in the High Court, offices in Members of Parliaments and government departments.
The proposed relocation is to the DDA flats in Narela, nearly 44 kilometres away from Jangpura. In a recent report by Newslaundry, they note that while the DDA clearly stated that the Narela flats in the city’s northern edge are ready for occupancy, multiple issues have been alleged: no steady supply of water or electricity, and no basic services. Some have even been warned by existing Narela residents that the latter is a crime prone region - a lawyer associated with the case told The Leaflet that security guards have warned regarding the security situation.
As agitating the tribulations of the rehabilitation process have seemed, equally so is the fundamentally flawed logic behind the need to demolish Madrasi camp, a community neatly established on the back of Delhi’s urban marginalisations.
On June 29, while lawyers with chambers in the Jangpura and Nizamuddin regions recalled the harrowing ordeal of the inundations exactly one year ago, many residents of Madrasi camp were still without a shelter, despite two fact-findings establishing that the jhuggi was in no significant way responsible for the floods. In fact, it was the recurrence of a much older story of poor, mindless planning by the Delhi government, in this case prioritising expressways at the cost of urban dysfunction.
On a late evening towards the end of June, while driving over the BBM flyover, I briefly curbed on an extension, looking closely at the Barapulla canal from atop the bridge. With a few consistent spells of rain, the canal was evidently bloated, the volume of water almost menacing to make sense of. By the next day, sewerage overflows across several regions of Jangpura followed immediately. Madrasi camp was a rootless rubble of bricks by this time. Time will tell how far its clearance has resolved South Delhi’s searing climate crisis.
In Wazirpur, even before the June 25 demolitions, nearly 1500 people had reportedly lost their homes completely. Alongside those demolitions, homes in Ashok Vihar and Jailorwala Bagh were also razed down. However, the homes razed alongside the railway tracks are the worst affected in terms of rehabilitation benefits - these are residents who have not been provided alternative accommodation anywhere. And whose homes were razed even when a less extreme possibility was available.
Chander Shekhar Azad Colony came under the list of protected jhuggis and under the Delhi Slum & JJ Rehabilitation and Relocation Policy, 2015, residents must be either given in-situ rehabilitation, or in case of encroachments, such as on railway tracks, relocation is facilitated. Part B of the policy even details the compliances and different stages involved in the relocation, none of which has happened.
While some are still scouring for rented accommodation, others are sleeping on the rubbles of what used to be a neighbourhood. Devi and her family are unable to afford a rented house and as of July 8, were residing under a peepal tree close to their home, under the scorching sun. Others in the neighbourhood are also sleeping under makeshift tenements, taking shelter in the nearby temple during Delhi’s unpredictable monsoon spells. “I cannot work currently. My younger sister is struggling to keep up with her college work,” she told me. No government officer had paid a visit to the neighbourhood since the day of the bulldozers.
Behind the spate of planned demolitions that leave little space for an effective defense seems to lie the fundamental intent of clearing out more and more space, and keeping in tact the many silences around Delhi’s urban planning disasters. Demolitions, in that way, live not merely as the memory of life and living that have ceased to exist, but also a step towards forgetting the abandoned failures - like concrete slabs and criss-crossed bridges choking a canal - of accountability.
Buried truth, then, remains buried.