You drive past rows of modest village homes and suddenly, you see it: A massive, three-storey, brightly painted concrete palace. It has intricate grillwork, a massive gate and a terrace large enough to play cricket on.
But if you look closer, the windows are dark. The gate is rusted shut. The only occupant is a bored chowkidar (watchman) or perhaps an elderly uncle who uses just one room on the ground floor.
This is the Ghost Mansion.
It is built by a successful son working in Mumbai, Dubai or Bengaluru. He poured ₹60 lakh into its construction. He flew down for the grand Griha Pravesh (housewarming), fed the entire village and felt like a king.
Three days later, he locked the door and flew back to his 600 sq ft rented apartment in Mumbai/Dubai to argue with his landlord about water timings.
You built a castle for the neighbours to look at while you live in a matchbox apartment in the city to pay for it.
The Psychology: Brick and Mortar Respect
In India, real estate is not just an asset – it is a biography. For a family that may have grown up in a mud house or a modest dwelling, building a pucca, multi-storey house is the ultimate certificate of arrival.
It is a billboard that screams to the village: My son made it.
The tragic irony is that this house is rarely built for the utility of the occupant. It is built for the Gaze of the Neighbour. You add a second floor not because you need more rooms, but because Sharmaji’s son built a second-floor last year. Or you install Italian marble in a house that will mostly see dust and spiderwebs.
The Financial Black Hole
Financially, the Ghost Mansion is one of the most destructive decisions an Indian professional can make. Let’s look at the math of this dead asset:
1. Zero rental yield: In a metro, a ₹80 lakh flat gives you ₹20,000 rent. In a village, a ₹80 Lakh mansion gives you zero. In fact, you won’t rent it out because of the fear of encroachment.
2. Negative cash flow (The maintenance tax): A closed house decays faster than an open one. The paint peels, the pipes rust, and the terrace leaks. You end up paying ₹50,000 a year just to repair a house you visit for four days during Diwali.
3. The opportunity cost: The ₹60 lakh locked in that concrete structure, if invested in a simple mutual fund portfolio for 15 years, would have grown to over ₹2.50 crore (assuming 10% returns).
That money could have funded your early retirement, a world tour every year for 10 years or the best possible education for your children. Instead, that wealth is frozen in a pile of bricks that is slowly deteriorating in a remote village.
The I-Will-Retire-There Myth
When challenged, the builder of the Ghost Mansion always has one defence: I am building it for my retirement. I will go back to my roots.
Statistically, this rarely happens.
- The lifestyle gap: After 30 years of city life, you are used to Zepto delivering groceries in 10 minutes and Uber arriving in 5. Adjusting to village infrastructure at age 60/65 is incredibly difficult.
- The double construction trap: Even if you genuinely plan to return after 20 years, building now is a strategic error. By the time you retire, your 20-year-old house will be outdated. The design will be old-fashioned, the plumbing aged, and the layout inefficient. You will end up spending money twice—once to build it now, and again to renovate it later. It is far smarter to keep the money growing in investments and build a fresh, modern home suited to your needs when you actually return.
- The medical gamble: You are locking your capital into a specific location today, assuming it will be livable in 20 years. But retirement is when you need healthcare the most. What if the village still lacks a good cardiac hospital in 20 years? If you keep your money liquid, you have the freedom to construct a house in a nearby tier-2 city that has better medical infrastructure, rather than being stuck in a remote medical desert because you already poured concrete there.
- The empty nest truth: Your children, who grew up in the city, have zero emotional connection to the village. They will not live there. Who are you building this legacy for?
Breaking the Curse
If you have rural roots, honour them. But honour them with financial sense.
Renovate the house, and don’t rebuild. Instead of tearing down the ancestral home to build a palace, spend ₹5 lakh to modernize the toilet and fix the roof. Keep the charm, lose the ego.
Even if you are building, do it for utility, not ego. If you must build, build a small, beautiful two-bedroom cottage that is easy to maintain. You don’t need a banquet hall for a family of four.
Follow the hotel rule. Calculate the interest on ₹60 lakh (about ₹4 lakh/year). For that amount, you can stay in the most luxurious five-star resort near your village for a month every year, be treated like royalty and have zero maintenance headaches.
Your self-worth is not determined by the height of your boundary wall in the village. Don’t sacrifice your financial freedom in the city just to impress neighbours who won’t even visit you when you are old.
A home is meant to be lived in, not just looked at.
Ajay Pruthi is the founder of PLNR Investment Advisors and a Sebi-registered investment advisor.
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