The Anomaly of Homeownership

Buying a house is an age-old wish, one that transcends cultures and religions. It’s mentioned in holy scriptures as a fundamental human aspiration — the love of land, horses, gold, silver, and even companionship (women) is acknowledged as part of life’s natural desires. For instance, the Quran speaks about these inclinations in Surah Al-Imran (3:14): "Beautified for people is the love of that which they desire – of women, sons, heaped-up sums of gold and silver, fine branded horses, cattle, and tilled land." Similarly, the Bible reflects this sentiment in Ecclesiastes 5:18: "It is good and fitting to eat and drink and find satisfaction in all their toil wherein man labors under the sun during the few days of his life which God has given him; for this is his portion." Owning land or a home isn’t just seen as material wealth but also as social security and stability.

In India, this desire takes on another layer—it becomes both an investment and a cultural expectation. A home equals respectability, safety, and future-proofing your family's needs. But here lies the anomaly: while everyone dreams of owning a house, most are pushed into taking immense loans from banks with skyrocketing interest rates. The catch? Banks only approve loans for plots with car access. This single condition drives up demand—and consequently prices—for such properties, creating financial slavery for those who dare pursue this dream. Many leave their families behind, migrate abroad, work tirelessly in foreign lands, sending money back home, all to fulfill the societal pressure of buying a "modern" house with wide roads where cars can glide in smoothly.

But what happens when we step away from the car-access obsession? Let’s take Kochi as an example—a city unlike its planned urban cousin Ernakulam. Fort Kochi, Mattancherry, Edakochi, and other areas developed organically over centuries. Settlements came first, followed by infrastructure development. These neighborhoods resemble older cities around the world like Venice, Marrakech, Kyoto, or certain parts of Paris, where narrow lanes dominate and scooter access is often the norm rather than car access. In these places, you park outside, climb stairs, or use lifts to reach apartments or flats. Functionality-wise, it’s more or less the same experience as living in a modern apartment complex—but without the inflated costs.

"Narrow-lane communities prove that innovation doesn’t always mean conformity."

Here’s the twist: because banks don’t offer loans for scooter-access plots due to their lower marketability, these properties remain relatively affordable. Even if owners decide to sell, there aren’t many buyers willing to pay high premiums for them. While this lack of demand might seem like a disadvantage for sellers, it opens doors for buyers who genuinely need a place to live but cannot afford exorbitant loans or enslavement to debt cycles. Often, private deals happen—buyers strike agreements with sellers to pay in installments, interest-free, over time. Sellers agree, knowing full well that finding another buyer would be tough otherwise.

This dynamic creates opportunities for individuals seeking shelter rather than profit-making investments. They bypass banks entirely, avoiding predatory lending practices and sky-high interest rates. By opting for scooter-access plots, they secure functional homes at reasonable prices. Sure, these houses may not boast fancy driveways or conform to contemporary notions of luxury, but they serve the essential purpose of providing shelter—a core human need.

So why does society push so hard for car-access homes? Why do people willingly enslave themselves financially to chase trends instead of practical solutions? Perhaps it’s peer pressure, societal expectations, or marketing strategies that equate bigger spaces and wider roads with success. Yet, amidst this madness, alternatives exist. Narrow-lane communities prove that innovation doesn’t always mean conformity. Sometimes, stepping back from the rat race leads to smarter choices and sustainable living.

For those dreaming of homeownership without indebting themselves, looking beyond the conventional could be the answer. Scooter-access plots aren’t just relics of old-world charm—they’re untapped potential, waiting for pragmatic minds ready to redefine comfort and convenience. After all, whether you climb stairs after parking your scooter or drive straight into your garage, the roof above your head serves the same purpose: shelter, belonging, and peace of mind. Isn’t that what truly matters?