
This image captures the state of Bada Bazar, Gurugram post 2 PM.
Bilkul Sateek News
Gurugram (Paridhi Dhasmana), 12 July – If you’re looking for Gurugram’s most pungent tourist attraction, look no further than Bada Bazar. No tickets required — just a strong stomach, a mask (preferably N95), and an appreciation for irony.
What used to be a lively market is now a walk-through garbage museum, proudly curated by systemic failure and maintained by sheer governmental apathy. Litter lines the streets like festive decorations, garbage piles stand tall as unofficial landmarks, and if you step carefully, you might just avoid slipping on yesterday’s dinner — or was it the day before?
Let’s be honest — the only thing overflowing faster than the trash bins (that’s if you manage to spot one) is the list of excuses from the authorities.
Municipal bodies, of course, are “looking into the matter.” Whether they’re looking with binoculars from a distance or through tinted office windows is unclear. The garbage, however, isn’t going anywhere. It’s far too comfortable — settled, thriving, and largely unbothered by the idea of civic discipline.
Now, to be fair, the MCG garbage trucks do make an appearance. Not to collect the garbage, mind you — that’s asking for too much. But like clockwork, they arrive once a month to collect their monthly fees. Efficiency at its finest: not in cleaning the streets, but in cleaning out the residents’ pockets. If garbage collection was as consistent as bill collection, Bada Bazar might have made it to the Swachh Bharat calendar by now.
One might ask: where are the sanitation workers? Well, they do appear — sometimes for flash photography, and occasionally for those classic sweeping poses when a VIP is in town. But here, in the unfiltered reality of Bada Bazar, the streets sweep themselves — or rather, wait patiently as the wind does a half-hearted job of moving trash from one corner to another.
And just when we thought the filth had reached its peak, the monsoon arrived — not as a relief, but as an accomplice. With one decent downpour, the drainage system gave up faster than a New Year’s resolution. Waterlogged roads, overflowing manholes, and garbage floating like paper boats became the new normal. If this isn’t poetic decay, what is?
One can’t help but wonder — how many more waterlogged failures, how many more garbage-clogged corners, and how many more citizen complaints will it take for the government to do something radical… like actually cleaning up?
Because on paper, everything looks glorious. Plans are drafted, funds are allocated, meetings are held, and social media handles share feel-good hashtags. Meanwhile, back in Bada Bazar, the air smells like betrayal (and rotting fruit), and the only hashtag that fits is #SwachhBharatWhere?
Residents are tired. Shopkeepers are frustrated. And the garbage? It’s just multiplying — confident, resilient, and clearly winning this round.
So here’s a modest proposal for our civic leaders: before we aim for smart cities, can we aim for clean streets? Before launching another “green Gurugram” initiative, how about launching a broom? And before issuing yet another press release, how about walking — just once — down Bada Bazar without a mask, a car, or a camera crew?
Until then, Bada Bazar remains a living, breathing satire. One that smells like irony… and quite a bit worse.