My House Hunting Chronicles

Now that I am officially back in Mumbai, the house hunting phase begins. My new life is calling :D. My colleague (let’s call her D) and I thought that we take an apartment together. I just met this chic 10 days ago and I thought she was alright. I dint mind staying with her for a month or so before moving in with my long-term partner P. 

We found a broker for ourselves and landed in Mumbai. I wanted to dump my stuff at A’s PG (she is the girl whom I did my internship with, the good driver) but this girl was like we will go stay in a guesthouse and then look for apartments. Me being the people pleaser said alright. We land up at this really sleazy place and I was really doubtful about my safety (okay, thanks to V, I am a maniac when it comes to such things). 

We had other people from our office who thought that the place looked like a brothel (pardon my language). They dint actually want to leave the place for this reason though. Cheapskates that there are wanted bills to get reimbursed, which were not available here. So, we had to pack again and go to A’s place. Within 3 hours of coming to Mumbai we fought with taxi drivers, went to a brothel, shouted at brokers. Pretty great beginning don’t you think?

Anyhoo, so we finally go to A’s PG (which is actually not that bad) and got ready to get back to house hunting. This broker guy (He is a big perv btw, he is an old dude who when I called Bhaiyya said to me “Don’t ever call me bhaiyya!”) started with this awesome place in Shivaji Park. It’s such a nice area, the beach is just a two minute walk and they had a nice park where I could go jogging. I was literally planning my life, jogging, organic food and walks on the beach. D dint like the place, the reason an Indian toilet ( cmon there is something called compromise!!). 

From this really posh place (relatively of course) he took us these slum areas (ala Dhobi Ghat), they were dying dogs, stinking corridors, really old sick people and the kicker “these are the places I can afford” says the broker. 

And added to this I was not exactly cool with the idea of living with D. She is weird: strike one, she is phony, strike two, and she cannot make up her mind about a single thing: strike three. (Okay, I know I am being a bitch, but I have to live with this person so gimme a break!) There goes my plan of an apartment :(. A PG it was for me. And after my previous experiences with suicidal maniacs, serial abuse victims I was so not in a mood to go back to that again. I guess the universe was conspiring against me.

This one is not as bad, okay I am sharing my room with two more people. The good part, they are not bad. They are shopaholic-diet freaks and they do drink lots of coffee :) Not so bad for a temporary arrangement eh? For further references lets name my roommates A, AD and RS)

Disclaimer: Don’t think that the author is a manic depressive with suicidal tendencies after reading the next part.

With all this settled I thought that I would go shopping, you know rechristen my bed (that’s the thing I am paying rent for :)) by decorating it. So me and AD went to Linking Road (I think that was it called). We thought we should try the Local (both of us never traveled in a local so we thought what the hell let’s give it a try and save some money, ohh the assholes at my company dint pay me so I am still broke for all intents and purposes) 

We get to the station and bought the tickets. I am used to the Chennai locals so I was searching for a ladies coach sign but it was nowhere in sight. The train comes and I get into this compartment which was the least crowded. AD was shouting that I got into the wrong one and she was not getting in. It took me a while to understand what she was trying to say, that I got into a handicapped compartment. By then the train started moving. I dint even think what I was doing, I just jumped off the train. I thought I would skid and stop but well as you would have imagined by now, I fell down on the platform with a loud thump. 

Don’t worry I just hurt my ego. Nothing major happened, other than a hundred people who surrounded me shouting “why do you wanna die?” Added to this whole hungama, AD called the station master. He comes running with a first-aid kid. At this point I just wanted to dig a hole and just stay there. I laughed it off and took the next train, literally running to catch it. Phew!  Good start with the local trains na. I did have the best bhelpuri ever. I couldn’t stop eating. Now I understand why people take flights to come to Mumbai just to eat it. 

So, my life in Mumbai did start with a few hiccups if you can call them that. Hope it gets better, I m just praying that me and P will find a good place and settle in. 

Xoxo

P