As Delhi slums razed, employers ask domestic helps: Why didn't you come to work?

India Today

3 days ago

When the bulldozers arrived at Madrasi Camp on Sunday morning, 38-year-old Pushpa was gathering her steel utensils, trying to save what little she could. Her phone rang four times. Each call was from her 'madam' in Jangpura. Each one asked the same thing: "Kaam pe kyun nahi ayi?" (Why didn't you come to work?)Pushpa says she didn't take any leave for one and a half months, knowing the court case meant trouble, and she'd need those leaves later. Even then, she kept getting calls from the kothis. When asked whether she hadn't informed her employers earlier, she responds, "Kya bolen? Woh bol rahe hain, todhne mein tumhara kya kaam? Bataiye, sadak pe ghar ka samaan chhod ke kaise jaayein? (What do I say? They (employers) are saying, 'What is your business with the demolition?' Now how do I explain that I can't leave my belongings on the streets and come to work?)"advertisementPushpa is one of the 155 families who didn't receive rehabilitation. She says those who've been moved to Narela are already anxious—there's no scope for household work there. "Kaun posh area hai wahan? Koi bartan kapda ka kaam nahi milta (There is no posh area over there that they will find work in others' homes)," she adds.
No one asked if her home was still standing. No one came to see if she has a place to sleep tonight. The women who kept the drawing rooms dust-free, made the morning tea, washed the dishes, and scrubbed the marble floors—were conveniently invisible.THE BULLDOZER AND THE DRAIN
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The demolition at Madrasi Camp didn't happen out of nowhere. It was part of a Delhi High Court-ordered clearance under the Barapullah Drain Decongestion Project—a critical civic initiative aimed at preventing waterlogging and flooding in South and Central Delhi during the monsoon.The Barapullah Drain, also called the Barapullah Nallah, is a major stormwater channel that cuts across South Delhi—from Lajpat Nagar to Sarai Kale Khan and into the Yamuna. Over the years, rampant encroachment on its embankments had reduced the carrying capacity of this vital drainage artery. What once drained away monsoon deluges now frequently overflows, flooding arterial roads like the Ring Road, Ashram, and Bhogal.According to the Delhi Urban Shelter Improvement Board (DUSIB), Madrasi Camp was located directly atop a critical section of the Barapullah embankment, narrowing the natural flow of rainwater and acting as a chokepoint. Court orders in 2023 had directed the DDA and Delhi government to clear these encroachments before the 2024 monsoon.On June 1, 2025, the bulldozers came—flanked by Rapid Action Force (RAF), riot control police, and civic officials. 370 homes were razed. 215 were found 'eligible' for rehabilitation. The remaining 155 were not.ELIGIBLE OR INVISIBLE? THE REHABILITATION GAPOut of 370 structures, only 215 families were allotted flats in far-off Narela Pocket 4 and 5—over 35 kilometres away, on the city's northern industrial edge. The rest—155 families—were declared ineligible. Their homes were demolished anyway.advertisementWhy the exclusion? Survey officials told some residents they did not meet cut-off documentation norms—such as having proof of residence before 2015, or voter ID cards linked to the address. Several residents say survey workers even asked whether they had voted in the 2024 Lok Sabha elections.'They came with clipboards and asked if we had voted,' says 42-year-old Anand, who also works in four Jangpura homes. 'When we said no, they just said, 'Then you're not on the list.' How does voting decide if we deserve a home?'Anand wasn't alone in making this allegation. At least six families India Today spoke to claimed that surveyors came with printed lists and suggested their names were missing because they hadn't voted in the 2024 Lok Sabha elections. In some cases, families were told they had skipped two consecutive elections—which, according to officials, made them ineligible for rehabilitation.'I've lived here for over 20 years,' says 55-year-old Rani. 'Last election, I had to go to my hometown in Tamil Nadu—my mother was ill. I couldn't vote. Does that mean you'll take away my home and not give me another?'
advertisementThis claim raises urgent questions: Can political disenfranchisement become a tool of exclusion in welfare delivery? With no formal mechanism to challenge survey outcomes, those left out of the list are now sleeping on footpaths or sharing tin-roof shelters with neighbours—left to wait, as fate decides the rest.According to official procedure, the Delhi Urban Shelter Improvement Board (DUSIB) is tasked with issuing eligibility certificates. Initially, 189 families were found eligible. A revised list has added 26 more, but that still leaves over 150 families without any alternative housing.The Delhi unit of the CPI(M) has demanded fair rehabilitation for all, raising concerns that the allotted flats in Narela lack basic facilities—such as water supply and electricity connections.When India Today reached out to officials involved in the survey, they said the rehabilitation process followed Delhi High Court orders. 'Those not found eligible were not issued certificates. Grievances are still being reviewed,' one official said.advertisementThe Madrasi Camp has existed for over 60 years. Its shift to Narela, miles away from South Delhi, has stirred anxiety—not just over housing, but livelihoods. For women working as domestic help in nearby Jangpura homes, the move means losing access to employers. For families, the concern runs deeper: around 200 children from the camp attend the Tamil government-aided school near Barapullah. With relocation, their school admissions are now in limbo. If they move to Narela, their education suffers. If they don't, life remains uncertain.FROM BREADWINNERS TO LIVES IN LIMBO
The women of Madrasi Camp were part of Delhi's invisible workforce—maids, cooks, ayahs—who served the city's middle and upper classes. The posh colonies of Jangpura, Bhogal, and Lajpat Nagar relied on them.Now, many of them are jobless not because their employers let them go, but because they can't afford the commute.'From Narela to Jangpura, it's 2 hours one way,' says Indra, who got a flat in Narela. 'I would need Rs 150 daily just for bus fare. What's the point of a Rs 10,000 - 15,000 salary if Rs 4,000 goes in travel?'advertisementFor those without rehabilitation, it's worse. They don't know where to go. 'I am getting calls from madams asking if I can come now,' says Mumtaz, adding, 'But I have no place to sleep. How can I go to clean someone else's house? To them, we're just hands for housework."The story is no different for Amuda, Shivgamini, and Walarmati—all domestic workers from Madrasi Camp who've spent years working in Jangpura's upscale homes. But now, with their shanties demolished and futures uncertain, what hurts more than the loss of shelter is the complete apathy from the very employers whose homes they've cared for.'Inko kuch nahi padhta humari—bas chahte hain ki hum kisi bhi haalat mein kaam pe aayein (Our employers don't care about us. They just want us to turn up for work)," says Amuda, her voice steady but her eyes restless."They don't care what happens to us. They just want us to show up, no matter what state we're in," she further said.For Shivgamini, the pain is no different. 'Aaj Sunday hai, chhutti ka din hai—phir bhi ek din ki bhi samajh nahi. Aap hi batao, koi makan malik aaya kya humare liye? Koi khada bhi nahi hua. Unhe humari bilkul bhi nahi padhi (Today is Sunday. No one (employers) came to visit us. They don't care about us)," she said.She pauses before adding, 'We give all our energy to their homes—I know they pay us for it. But when our own homes fell, not one came to ask, even once, if we were okay.IS A HOUSE ENOUGH? WHAT ABOUT THE LIVELIHOOD?Government officials call the Narela flats a 'rehabilitation success.' But for the women of Madrasi Camp, it's displacement disguised as assistance.'Narela has factories and godowns,' says Pushpa, a domestic worker. 'There are no bungalows there. No work. No money. So what do I do with four walls and a ceiling?'For most women, the economy of domestic labour is hyper-local. They work within walking distance—juggling children, husbands, and multiple employers. Rehabilitation schemes rarely account for this reality. A 'house' 35 kilometers away isn't a solution—it's a new problem.DRAIN CLEARED, LIVES CLOGGEDThe Barapullah Drain may flow freer this monsoon. But the social cost is now writ large across Delhi's footpaths and underpasses—where women who once earned their keep now queue for rations, search for water, or wait for a text from a kothi madam who may never call again.Development isn't just about concrete and court orders. It's about people. And Delhi's latest demolition drive has shown just how quickly those people can be forgotten—until someone asks, 'Kaam pe kyun nahi ayi? (Why haven't you turned up for work?)"