In real estate hierarchy, renting is always inferior to owning. Delhi has grown me. And anyone who has rented in Delhi (or in any big city for that matter), knows that as a renter is to be at the mercy of the owners. You've to first contend with broker. Then landlord, who will look at you questionably if you are single. He will raise both eyebrows and objections when you say you are a journalist. If you are ridiculously lucky, you will get the house, and it wouldn't have pink walls, and it will have running hot water. Then you'll have to manoeuvre your way around the landlord's dog, chained to the entry gate. Which will invariably be a maniacal Pomeranian. Named Lucky. Or Rocky. That takes the stairs only to poop on your doormat. It will be a house where a drunk young man will wander up the stairs and loiter on the terrace, only because he's seen girls on the balcony, and feels he has a right to intrude into the space, to inspect what is going on. You'll then have to figure out escape routes—not for the drunk lout—to avoid the landlady who has requested if her son can come and study in your home, since her house is too noisy. You don't know how to tell her that since she's rented the barsati to you, her son cannot use it. Instead, you try to slink in and out of the house at odd hours. You'll also have to battle rats. And not Ratatouille's Remy the Mouse. But Brontosaurus-like rats. Which wakes you up at night by chewing through cement. And then insist on dropping dead in your bathroom (because of the poison you left out). As you lift its heavy corpse out in a dustpan you wonder if it is easier to deal with an alive or a dead rat. You've never dealt with a dead-anything. Other than perhaps, a cockroach or a mosquito. So, you toss it out from your balcony. Given your weak throw it promptly lands in the landlord's house. Right near Lucky. Or Rocky. For a second you wonder if Lucky or Rocky should just eat it. But then your Humanity kicks in and you yell to the landlord, "Uncle mai terrace pe khadi hu, maine neche chua dekha. Lucky kha jayega. (Uncle, I'm standing on the terrace and can see a dead rat below. Lucky will eat it.)" The Uncle will reply, "Arey beta, mere ghar mein bahut chuhe hai. (Oh, don't worry, there are many rats at our home.)"

accommodation

House Warming

Confessions of a Housing Agent