The construction boom, powered principally by retail, hotels and housing, is the most visible sign of India's emerging economic prosperity.
It is also providing better employment and better wages for unorganised sector workers in a manner that is probably more effective - though still flawed - than the well-intentioned legislation to compensate this vast section of the labour force.
Certainly, construction is a key sign of economic growth. But if the overarching benefits are unexceptionable, the downside is no less. The competition for water and other resources, not to speak of the inevitable traffic crises that unchecked construction activity generates, is an issue that attracts regular media coverage.
Less noticed but also worth a serious thought is the growing human-animal conflict in urban India.
The clash between humans and animals has been common in rural areas for decades. The annual destruction of crops in south, east and north-east India as wild elephants find their migration corridors blocked by human settlement is now an established trend.
But in liberalising India, the conflict has started encroaching on urban areas as well.
For instance, Vasant Kunj on the outer edge of Delhi and one of the greener of its post-nineties housing colonies is about to acquire five malls by the middle of next year, despite strenuous protests from environmentalists.
These new malls plus a hotel, with smart granite and glass facings, have erased a vast swathe of the ridge where Lapwings, Drongoes, Bee-eaters, Rockchats and Kingfishers were regular visitors.
The first four bird species have all but vanished from the area - the Lapwing being the first casualty since it nests on the ground. Only the Kingfisher remains in depleted numbers because it is an extraordinarily adaptive bird.
The gradual diminution of bird life outside of crows, mynahs and pigeons might not irk residents of this sprawling housing colony too much unless they are bird-lovers. Doubtless, given the fact that middle class Indians can indulge their new-found shopaholism like never before with the emerging retail revolution, the malls will be warmly welcomed.
Welcomed, that is, until their impact makes itself felt in other ways. It is already evident in a worsening of the monkey menace. Deprived of what little greenery they had as habitat as a result of the hyper-construction in the area over the past decade - hotels, housing, even offices, ONGC's new office being the latest high-profile addition - simian troops are literally fighting residents on a daily basis for food and habitat. It will be tough to find a human resident in the area who has not been visited by the rhesus monkey whose haunts till recently were mostly around Raisina Hill and Parliament.
Likewise, the Neelgai and the common spotted deer, familiar sights for late-night commuters, have vanished.
The problems grow more acute as urbanisation gathers pace. In Mumbai, readers may recall reports a couple of years ago of small children being picked up by leopards in the Powai area.
This is an emerging colony of tony apartment blocks that have been developed by such realtors as Raheja and Hiranandani. Powai is on the southern edge of the Borivali National Park, which, despite being in the heart of human habitation, boasts a fair number of wild cats.
They are regular visitors to the Indian Institute of Technology's campus in the area. But with thousands of new apartments coming up in an area that was once jungle and lake, large garbage heaps have made their appearance, natural attractions for leopards.
Most local authorities tend to deal with urban human-animal conflicts in ways that are cruel, ineffectual or both. While no planning is done - as it used to be in the older cities - for green spaces to accommodate birds and animals, most municipal authorities look at extermination as an option.
In Kolkata, land on the eastern bypass - once a dump for the city's refuse - has become a real estate developer's dream. In the process, whole species of lesser animals like the lesser cat have been wiped out.
The upshot of this Final Solution approach is that India will soon lose its uniquely rich wildlife heritage and become a sterile concrete jungle, just as south-east Asia is doing.
It is possible, as naturalist Raman Sukumar has pointed out in his brilliant study of the human-elephant conflict of more than two decades, for both development and conservation to co-exist if planners look for sensible solutions that accommodate the needs of both constituencies.
But in a country where decent living standards for most people remain a challenge, animals rights are unlikely to get much of a look-in.
