Kamal Ghorui
On most days, a woman in India does not experience the city as a neutral grid of roads and buildings. She experiences it as negotiation. She calculates lighting before distance. She chooses a bus based on who else is inside it. She avoids certain parks after dusk. She memorises which metro exits open onto crowded streets and which lead to deserted service lanes. She plans her day not in straight lines but in loops — dropping a child at school, stopping at a pharmacy, heading to work, picking up groceries, checking on an elderly parent. She adjusts.
But cities are not accidental. As sociologist Émile Durkheim argued in ‘The Division of Labour in Society’ (1893), social systems are organised to perform functions and maintain order. Urban infrastructure — transport networks, zoning regulations, and housing design — is part of this structure. Historically, however, it has been imagined around a particular figure: the male commuter/breadwinner. What if women who navigate cities differently were the ones who designed them? What are the shifts we would see?
1 | Adjusting to Belonging
In Kolkata’s Maidan at dusk, in Delhi’s neighbourhood parks, in Bengaluru’s lakeside promenades, a familiar pattern emerges: men gather; women pass through, particularly after dark. Even in parks, they engage in purposeful activities — brisk walking, accompanying children — rather than lingering. The common response has been segregation: women-only compartments, pink autos, reserved seating. But cities designed with women in mind could embed safety in everyday infrastructure. Lighting would be continuous rather than decorative. Pavements would be wide, even and unobstructed. Seating would be dispersed rather than clustered in male-dominated zones. As Jane Jacobs in ‘The Death and Life of Great American Cities’ (1961) argued safety emerges from “eyes on the street” — mixed-use neighbourhoods, active storefronts, and steady pedestrian presence. Cities such as Vienna have demonstrated how gender-sensitive planning reshapes mobility through wider pavements, better lighting, and redesigned housing layouts. Bengaluru’s pedestrian-friendly TenderSURE roads show that this is possible in India. The question is not affordability; it is priority.
2 | Transport That Reflects Real Lives
The male commuter model assumes one origin and one destination. Yet India’s Time Use Survey (2019) shows women shoulder a disproportionate share of unpaid care work. Their journeys are layered: school, market, workplace, clinic, home. But transport planning prioritises peak-hour office traffic. Last-mile connectivity is patchy. Footpaths dissolve into construction debris. Bus stops lack shelter and lighting. If transport systems were designed around women’s mobility patterns, routes would link residential areas to schools, markets and health centres, not only corporate hubs. Interchanges would be stroller-friendly and accessible to the elderly and disabled. Traffic signals would account for how long a child or older adult takes to cross. Strict enforcement against speeding and red-light violations would not be cosmetic but foundational. When policy goes beyond the male-default model, the results are evident. The free bus travel scheme for women in Delhi and Bengaluru significantly increased female ridership. When access improves, participation follows.
3 | Safety by Design, Not Surveillance
Since the protests over the 2012 Nirbhaya gangrape, the dominant govt response has emphasised surveillance — CCTV cameras, patrols, women-only spaces. While necessary, these are reactive measures. Safety should not rest on individual caution but be produced collectively through thoughtful design. For instance, underpasses that do not resemble dim tunnels of anxiety. Informal vendors, often labelled encroachments are recognised as contributors to vibrancy and safe streets.
4 | Housing That Recognises Labour
Research has long shown that many women are home-based workers. Yet housing rarely reflects this. Step into a middle-class apartment in Kolkata or a resettlement colony in Delhi and a spatial reality emerges: kitchens are often small, enclosed and isolated. Social infrastructure—schools, parks, and markets—isn’t always within walking distance. In informal settlements, design failures are sharper. Distant water points, poorly maintained community toilets and overcrowded layouts make daily routines physically exhausting. Poor ventilation contributes to respiratory illness. Limited access to safe public space further restricts activity, increasing risks of non-communicable disease (NCD). If women shaped design, kitchens would be ventilated and integrated. Shared courtyards could support collective childcare. Water and sanitation would be treated as core infrastructure, not afterthoughts. Swachh Bharat emphasised toilet construction; the next step is dignified, usable design.
5 | Recognition to Representation
Perhaps the most transformative shift would be institutional. Urban planning bodies and infrastructure boards remain overwhelmingly male. Cities are drafted in rooms where the everyday choreography of women’s lives is underrepresented. When planners lack gender-disaggregated data on mobility and safety, they design for an abstract ‘average’ citizen who often resembles a man. Designing cities around women’s needs is not a niche concern. It is an economic imperative — because mobility influences labour force participation. It is also a public health issue — because walkability, clean air and safe transport shape well-being and determine exposure to NCDs, respiratory illness and road injuries. It is a democratic issue — because public space signals who belongs.
This International Women’s Day, the most meaningful gesture would not be symbolic celebration but structural change: more women at drafting tables, in planning boards, transport authorities and housing committees. A city designed with women at its centre would not only be safer for women. It would be healthier, more equitable, and more humane for everyone.
