The residential complex Shreepati Arcade in Nana Chowk, South Mumbai, became a landmark in 2002 due to its engineering and construction characteristics: it was the tallest residential building where people lived in India, reaching a height of 45 floors and about 161 meters. However, a more enduring detail than the height record is the social aspect of this building. Developer R C Chaturvedi reported that apartments were sold exclusively to vegetarian families, predominantly from Jain, Marwari, and Sindhi communities, and a small number of interested buyers from minority groups who consumed meat were asked to step aside in the interest of creating a 'vegetarian society.'
Chaturvedi recalls: 'This became a unique selling proposition for selling apartments. We realized that most interested clients were vegetarians. There were only four clients from the minority, all of whom were non-vegetarians who wanted to buy apartments in the tower. But we asked them and explained that it would be a vegetarian society. They respected our decision.'
More than two decades later, the identity of the building as a vegetarian-only zone persists. This story represents not so much an anomaly as an example of a long-standing trend in Mumbai: housing communities and neighborhoods are spaces where personal preferences, community strength, and public statements of equality are constantly discussed and often contested.
Food, friction... points of tension
Few things cause as much explicit tension as food. Vegetarianism can be a matter of personal taste, but in many communities, it also serves as a marker of ritual practice and group identity. In the Mumbai real estate market, it periodically becomes a tool of selection—sometimes openly stated, sometimes subtly enforced—determining who can live in a certain place and at what price.
A recent dispute demonstrates how modern marketing can amplify old practices. A real estate agent posted a video advertising a luxury apartment in Tardeo for around 6.5 crore rupees, attaching the condition 'for vegetarians only.' The clip went viral, leading to criticism from political parties and social media users, which resulted in the agent's apology. The speed of the negative reaction made this episode seem like a new reason for debate, but real estate observers know that such buildings and clusters have existed for decades. The difference today is that this condition is easier to document, disseminate, and discuss publicly, rather than remaining an unofficial agreement between brokers and residents' committees.
Neighborhood evolution
'Vegetarian clusters' in Mumbai have historical roots driven by both demographic and economic factors. Areas such as Walkeshwar and Baboolnath in South Mumbai, as well as parts of Ghatkopar in the eastern suburbs, are often mentioned as places where communities adhering to a strict vegetarian lifestyle have consolidated over time.
In prestigious areas of South Mumbai, such as Walkeshwar and Netaji Subhash Road, it is said that there are no meat restaurants. Jashwant Mehta, a resident of Walkeshwar, noted that some residential complexes there have Jain temples, and they are inhabited only by vegetarians. He added: 'In fact, demand and prices in such societies are higher than in buildings with better amenities.'
A Malabar Hill resident reported that in some residential complexes where the majority of residents are vegetarians, there is an informal understanding that apartment sales are conducted only to vegetarian families. 'However, such conditions are not documented in writing. This practice is common in many areas of Mumbai,' the resident said.
Part of this concentration followed typical urban models: groups migrated for trade and work, relied on community networks for housing and financing, and preferred to live near places of worship and businesses that aligned with their customs. Once an area gained a reputation—whether due to Jain temples, specific festival calendars, or dietary norms—subsequent waves of residents reinforced this identity, making it difficult for outsiders to enter even without explicit written rules.
It is noteworthy that this practice is not limited to stereotypically 'Gujarati' or 'Jain' enclaves. Even in traditionally Marathi areas like Dadar, Lalbaug, and Kalachowki, there are residential projects oriented exclusively towards vegetarian communities.
The cunning vegetarian 'logic'
There are numerous motives behind insisting on residency only for vegetarians, and not all carry equal weight. Some residents justify their stance based on religious discipline, ritual purity, and sensory comfort: they dislike the smell of meat in the corridors, the possibility of cooking odors penetrating through ventilation shafts, or the use of common spaces for non-vegetarian catering. Others view it as a lifestyle choice, similar to rules regarding noise, pets, or smoking. From this perspective, the building is a shared space, and residents can seek neighbors with compatible habits.
However, the same rule can function as a substitute for excluding certain communities. One real estate agent stated that vegetarianism is sometimes insisted upon to prevent members of minorities, many of whom are presumed to be meat-eaters, from entering.
The conflict intensifies in buildings with common amenities, as shared spaces force residents to agree on collective norms. Many large complexes now include common halls, clubs, banquet rooms, and sometimes cafes or restaurants managed by the community itself. Architect Moayed Fatehi describes a common pattern: a residential complex can be multi-community and harmonious on the surface, yet impose restrictions on food in common areas.
Fatehi's example from a luxury complex in Worli, central Mumbai, shows how these rules can be designed as a compromise: residents are free to cook and eat what they like in their private apartments, but communal kitchens and banquet halls remain for vegetarians only. 'Non-vegetarian food cannot be cooked in the common banquet hall, but it can be served if brought in from outside,' he explained.
Guardians of communities
Developers also play a role in shaping these norms. Many do not impose strict dietary restrictions because it narrows the pool of buyers and complicates sales. Nevertheless, reports indicate that some have begun reserving one wing or a couple of floors within a larger complex for vegetarians, turning a social preference into a physical division.
Brokers and agents become key intermediaries in this ecosystem, as they accumulate informal knowledge about which buildings will refuse service to which buyers. Over time, many learn to pre-screen inquiries. If they believe the community will object to representatives of minorities, single women, bachelors, or openly non-vegetarian tenants, they may avoid showing those properties to such clients altogether. This creates a parallel real estate market where the burden falls on excluded groups: higher search costs, repeated rejections, more time spent negotiating, and sometimes a 'minority premium' in the form of higher rent or prices in a smaller set of accepting buildings.
Legal aspect
The legal situation remains contentious. One approach, according to housing law experts such as lawyer Anil Harish, views a housing society as an association of like-minded individuals. Under this reasoning, people can choose to contract with those who share their norms, and the society can regulate collective life just as it regulates the commercial use of apartments, structural changes, or other actions affecting neighbors. From this viewpoint, the 'vegetarian only' condition is defended as an expression of freedom of association and contractual choice.
The opposing approach argues that cooperative housing societies are not purely private clubs; they are quasi-governmental institutions managing vital urban resources—housing and neighborhood access—within a framework intended to be open and non-discriminatory.
The leading case on this issue is the 2005 Supreme Court ruling—Zoroastrian Cooperative Housing Society Ltd versus District Registrar, Cooperative Societies (Urban). The charter of the Zoroastrian society, restricting membership exclusively to Parsis, was challenged when a Parsi member attempted to transfer his plot to a non-Parsi builder. 'The Supreme Court overturned the lower court's decision and upheld the validity of the society's charter. It ruled that the Gujarat Co-operative Societies Act of 1961 or its Rules contained nothing that prohibited a society from restricting membership to persons of a certain community, belief, or religion. 'The restriction of membership based on community was upheld,' and the attempt to force entry/transfer against the charter failed.'
However, lawyer Vinod Sampat argued that open membership is fundamental: societies cannot discriminate based on caste, creed, religion, or gender, and restrictions preventing the purchase of an apartment violate fundamental rights related to residence and equality. 'Article 15 of the Constitution prohibits discrimination by the state, and arbitrary exclusion by private bodies/societies violates state policy,' he stated.
Sampat emphasized: 'The role of a housing society is strictly administrative, limited to collecting payments and registering transfers. They cannot impose discriminatory rules or reject valid sales contracts.' This argument views the discriminatory restriction as an illegal barrier to equal participation in urban life.
Phenomenon across India
Vegetarian societies are found in various regions and cities, strengthening through kinship and community ties and promoted by the preference for a common diet among neighbors. Thus, in Kolkata, known for its love of macher jhol and kosha mangsho, several buildings and societies quietly remain vegetarian enclaves, largely formed by Gujarati, Jain, and Marwari communities.
In Bhowanipore, South Kolkata, an electoral constituency currently represented by Suvendu Adhikari and previously by former Chief Minister Mamata Banerjee, the consolidation of vegetarian societies has occurred over decades. Until the mid-20th century, Bhowanipore was mainly a middle-class Bengali neighborhood with a noticeable Sikh presence. Decades of migration and clustering have made vegetarian societies a common feature, to the extent that some properties in Bhowanipore are sold or rented only to families adhering to a strict vegetarian diet.
The situation is similar in Hyderabad. Cosmopolitan on the outside, conservative in certain areas, the capital of Telangana is accustomed to landlords in some traditional neighborhoods preferring to rent their homes only to vegetarians.
While the western corridor of Hyderabad, especially Gachibowli, the IT hub, Kondapur, Nallagandla, and Tellapur, has a relatively open rental market where dietary habits rarely become a serious issue, the situation is different in older neighborhoods such as Lingampally in Kacheguda, Chikkadpally, Badichowdi, Gujarati Galli, Govliguda, Chappal Bazar, and others.
A resident in Chikkadpally stated: 'Our main goal is to maintain the cleanliness and sanctity of our property. We do not want non-vegetarian food to affect the atmosphere or cleanliness of our home. Ultimately, we provide property based on trust, as we cannot control what tenants buy, order, or bring into the house.'
Thus, the identity of Shreepati Arcade as a vegetarian-only zone, once promoted as a unique selling proposition, now fits into a broader history: a reminder that the urban landscape reflects not only wealth and engineering but also boundaries—sometimes visible, often invisible—that residents draw around their belonging.
