Owning properties and the sentiments that go with it

The Supreme Court of India recently delivered a significant judgment to the effect that simply registering a property does not automatically grant ownership, a verdict expected to have wide-ranging impact nationwide on property owners, legal professionals, and the real estate industry.

It is also expected to lead to a review of current property laws in India. The recently enacted Wakf Amendment Act is a major step in this regard.

I recollect an interesting experience I had while dealing with the subject of land. I was working as the Special Officer Urban Land Ceiling (ULC) and Competent Authority, Hyderabad, under the newly enacted ULC act. People owning land in excess of 500 square metres, in what was called the Hyderabad Urban Agglomeration, were required to file declarations in a prescribed form, with particulars of the lands and buildings owned by them. Under that statute, holdings in excess of that extent, which was the ceiling for the Agglomeration, were liable to be declared as surplus and taken over by the government.

My father and some friends owned land in the Gachibowli area of the city and, naturally, had also to file the declarations. Embarrassed about dealing with my father’s case, I asked one of my immediate subordinate officers to deal with that case, together with others in that group. That officer, after due examination, submitted a note stating that the lands in question were, in fact, not private lands at all, and belonged to the government. I made a mention in the file, saying that the declarants concerned be informed accordingly.

Someone rushed to my father with the news and expressed amazement that his son could have taken a decision such as that in his father’s case.

My father, apparently, said, with a smile, “If that is the law and he has followed it, what can be our objection”. In the process, the little hope the declarants had, of cashing in on that property, vanished into thin air. Fortunately, most of the others were well to do, and my father had a house of his own, and enough pension, to get by comfortably.

The word ‘land’ often occurs in the names of cities and countries, such as New Zealand, Newfoundland, Switzerland and, ironically, Land’s End, the place in England that is furthest to the west, on the coast of Cornwall.

It is one thing to possess and enjoy a piece of property. But acquiring an absolute right over that can often pose many challenges, especially in metropolitan cities like Hyderabad.

Outdated land records, legal disputes, and difficulty in verifying ownership on account of incomplete documentation, rapid urbanisation and infrastructure development add complexity to the situation. It was to address such issues that the government of Telangana state introduced the Integrated Land Records Management portal or ‘Dharani’.

Although the service offered a decent salary and attractive perquisites, I somehow managed to find myself always in need of extra support to make both ends meet. I often had to resort to the arrangement of an overdraft with the local branch of the State Bank of India (the institution where I first began my career, as a Probationary Officer), for that purpose. Over time, as Usha and I found it more and more possible to manage our finances soundly, I was able to construct a house, partly with a loan provided by the state government, together with some assistance from my parents and close friends. When, years later, I found it hard to service my debts, I was constrained to sell it off. That, strangely enough, happened to me repeatedly. Finally, after returning to Hyderabad following the end of my stint in the National Disaster Management Authority, I bought a house in Banjara Hills. I was on the verge of registering the house when my Guru, Ganapathi Sastry, warned me against doing it in my name. “Do it in your wife’s name,” he laughingly told me, “lest your previous habits return to haunt you!”

That attachment to land or, for that matter, any earthly possession, has little meaning when the inevitable end comes, was poignantly illustrated by the legendary Leo Tolstoy, in 1886, in his short story ‘How Much Land Does a Man Require?’.

A man who, in his lust for land, forfeits everything, finally realises that all that is required is a hole in the ground, in which his body can fit in, after he has passed away. Any land more than that is only an illusory source of comfort or security. Somewhat similar, to the poignant sentiment expressed by the deposed Moghul Emperor, Bahadur Shah Zafar, when he was imprisoned by the British in Rangoon, capital of Burma, (now Yangon capital of Myanmar), for suspected involvement in the 1857 rebellion.

While talking about ownership of properties, one cannot help recalling the case of Kunwar Mahender Dhwaj Prasad Singh, who, claiming to be a descendant of the Royal families that ruled Delhi earlier, staked a claim of ownership of, of all things, the Qutub Minar!

The Archaeological Survey of India, quite rightly, contested the claim, citing the monument’s status as a protected site. Fortunately, the Delhi High Court finally dismissed the plea.

(The writer was formerly Chief Secretary, Government of Andhra Pradesh)