Space and the City: A Single Woman’s Quest For a Flat in Mumbai

Never a dull moment for the single woman looking to rent a flat in Mumbai

This is really hard. The rents aside. That of course is the biggest hurdle but there’s plenty of others, so you can’t complain about the lack of variety. There is flaky brokers who stop taking your calls after leading you on for a few days. They could just tell you what happened instead of being cruelly mysterious and letting you keep hope alive. To quote Red from Shawshank Redemption, “Let me tell you something my friend. Hope is a dangerous thing. Hope can drive a man insane.”

Flats, Flatmates and Brokers

As fresh graduates in that financially unlucrative field of humanities, finding a place in the city’s most popular suburb of Bandra, was an insightful and arduous task. Me and my friend, who it must be mentioned is Muslim, went walking around neighbouring areas of Bandra, trying to find cheap housing. And perhaps you have read this about the travails of being Muslim and finding housing in Mumbai. Our first broker did not like that she was Muslim. Our second broker told us that the Christians in Bandra don’t like Muslims because they think they are terrorists. His name incidentally was Shaukat. I was sure was a Muslim name, till the point he made that statement. My empathetic humanities side emerged, I gave a mental slap on my head for assuming he was Muslim. How presumptuous could I be. To clear my confusion, I asked him wasn’t he himself a Muslim? He said of course he was, as are more than half the brokers in Bandra, but this is still the case. He was entirely unfazed by this fact and almost bored at my interest.

Yes, there are Facebook groups out there now, which provide for some respite from brokers, but when people’s livelihood does not depend on showing you a place and your need is urgent, it’s not really a viable option. People say they will call and then don’t. In the melee of messages and groups you forget who had advertised for what and where. I messaged and was messaged by many people but in the end all it yielded was big fat nothing.

Of Redevelopment, Nosy Societies and Travelling Landlords

Most of the buildings in Bandra are also going to be redeveloped. Our meagre budget can’t afford us housing in a swanky new building here, so we go to the crusty fading old ones and guess what? Redevelopment could strike it in the next 4 months.

There is of course Residents Welfare Committees in most Mumbai apartments which want to meet and interview potential tenants and only with their approval can you rent the place. They dictate terms on what is allowed to you as a human being, like the hour you return home, who drops you, and why, who comes over to your place and when, what you eat or don’t and other such. They also decide that no flats will be given to bachelors and single girls. We found a place to stay in and the day of paying the ginormous deposit, which in Bombay is usually starts at a flat 1 lakh or above, were told that single girls are not allowed.

Finally on finding a house we liked, we were told we’ll have to wait for the landlord to return to the country. Bandra landlords are possibly all chilling in the developed world. The US or Australia in my experience are their favourite destinations. One sweet old man even said that to my face, “I take your money and go to the US,” his happiness warmed the deepest cockles of my heart, but I was torn between cheering for him or for myself.

White People and the Light at the End

Now of course the biggest bubble buster is the rent. They are through the roof, you’ll see amazingly nice places all done to meet “white people’s needs and budgets”, as the landlords and brokers tell you with chest thumping pride. I am sorry to generalise I am sure there are poor white people, in fact I see quite a few walking around Bandra, but maybe they just dress that way.

I think I was very positive about the whole experience putting the best spin on whatever dire architecture and living conditions I was faced with. We all found places but it’s not over until the lease is signed and the key is in your hands. Sometimes not even then, a friend of mine had to leave her newly rented flat because her friendly downstairs neighbours, three strapping young men, arrived at her doorstep on her first night in the flat, asking if she wanted their phone number. She is a north Indian, and her levels of paranoia are quite high for some reason. She left the flat at the crack of dawn, for good.