Located in south-central Delhi, Defence Colony Market is a short drive — or walk, on a pleasant day — from Jawaharlal Nehru Stadium, the flagship facility for the Commonwealth Games that open on October 3. These days the market resembles a massive construction site, as do Khan Market and Connaught Place, two other landmarks also in the broader Games area.
The entry to Defence Colony Market has been severely restricted by a two-storey monstrosity that is under construction seemingly in the middle of the driveway. Nobody quite understands why it’s there, but Municipal Corporation of Delhi (MCD) officials insist it is part of an attempt to provide amenities to Games visitors. The ground floor of this new building will house a toilet. On the first floor the concessionaire — the plot has been handed out to a private contractor — can build anything he wants. In Defence Colony, right above the urinals, there are plans for a coffee shop or an eatery!
It is a ridiculous idea. Zoning plans have been torn up, visitors have been severely inconvenienced, and a piece of prime property in the heart of India’s capital has been stealthily transferred to a concessionaire who is probably a crony of an MCD official. Defence Colony Market’s experience is not unique. Such “toilet cum restaurant” complexes have been conceived in seven leading markets of the city, allegedly as part of a Commonwealth Games beautification drive. This is a small but telling example of just how much of a racket the Games have become for India’s capital.
This past week, retailers at Defence Colony Market — and presumably other markets in the Games area and its vicinity — were paid call by a senior police officer. He asked them for their opinion on shutting down the market — all the shops and restaurants, even the florists, everything — for the entire duration of the Games. Obviously, the idea was strongly opposed. The police officer then climbed down from his maximalist position — which was probably a well-crafted bargaining chip anyway — and said closure would be necessary but perhaps a short, three-four hour business window could be considered each day during the Games. In any case, he let it be known, visitors to the market would be physically prevented from entering, and cars would be banned outright.
Imagine a situation where a Defence Colony resident wants to buy milk and potatoes in the middle of the afternoon in the first week of October. If Delhi police has its way, he will have to break the law and dodge a security cordon!
This maddening scenario is not scare-mongering limited to one neighbourhood. It threatens to become a self-fulfilling prophecy as Delhi’s harassed and mortified citizens ready for their Nightmare Games. Not since Nadir Shah, or at least the Mutiny, have Delhi’s soul and sensibility been so savaged. The Commonwealth Games are coming at a huge price.
The Delhi police says its hands are tied. It has been tasked with insulating the games from terror strikes and has responded with the heavy-handed approach that comes naturally to it: make all public spaces out of bounds, tell people to stay home, don’t let an ant move.
Further, the Games organisers have promised that one lane on every Delhi street being used for the Commonwealth spectacle will be set aside for athletes, officials and so on. To ensure this, tens of thousands of cars in Delhi will need to be forced off the roads. As such, people are being encouraged to leave the city and go on vacation. Schools and colleges have been ordered to close down. Markets are next; presumably offices — at least public sector offices, under some sort of government control — will be targeted in the coming weeks.
Why is this happening? Oxford Street will not shut shop during the London Olympics of 2012. So why is Delhi suffering? Frankly, the city’s civic sinews are grossly overstretched. A Commonwealth Games mini-city — accommodating the athletes’ village, a clutch of stadiums and a media centre — needed to have been built at a virgin location close by: in Sonepat (Haryana) or Greater Noida (Uttar Pradesh), for instance. This is the model Sydney, Beijing and Athens adopted for their Olympic Games. The 2012 London Olympics are being used to regenerate the eastern suburbs of the city. The heart of the British capital is being left unmolested.
In Delhi, however, Games facilities have been foisted upon the busiest stretches and most densely-populated neighbourhoods of a living city. This has played havoc with ecology and urban design. Far from an emblem of civic pride, the Games have become an embodiment of a city’s greed.
Despite this, the grasping nature of the Games organisers seems to know few limits. Suresh Kalmadi, chairman of the Organising Committee, now wants the Union sports ministry to coerce the Board of Control for Cricket in India (BCCI) to cancel or postpone a tour by the Australian cricket team in early October. The Australian team will not be playing in Delhi but the cricket series will clearly attract more television audiences and sponsorship deals than the Commonwealth Games.
This is not surprising. For better or worse multidisciplinary events — even the Olympics — have a limited appeal in India, where consumer and business support can be found for cricket and, to a lesser degree, tennis, football and golf. This is a hard verity. Can it be altered by government fiat? What if the BCCI and Cricket Australia decide to play in Dubai? Will Mr Kalmadi want passports revoked and live telecast banned? Will he ask the information and broadcasting ministry to tell the Mumbai film industry not to release blockbuster movies in October?
The term “Potemkin village” owes its name and origin to an 18th century Russian minister who sought to impress Catherine the Great by building facades of prosperous villages during her imperial tours. He tried to create the impression of happiness and plenty, and disguise ugly reality.
By blanking out the real Delhi, cancelling its people almost, and by attempting to forcefeed a mass identification with the Commonwealth Games that simply doesn’t exist, is a vibrant city being reduced to a Potemkin village? The smug men in the Organising Committee may not be answerable to anybody, but surely the government is?

Ashok Malik can be contacted at malikashok@gmail.com