Dheeraj Kalgutkar

  Billboards promoting investment in rental properties and urban studios, reflecting the growing real estate market amid rising rents. Notice in the above image how the billboard targets the investors who will buy and rent this property instead of home owners who will buy and stay in it. It promises assured returns more than what banks offer for your savings. The targets are not home-owners and families who would stay in it, but those who would buy and rent it out as an investment; it is sold as an opportunity to make money. This was not always like this. In past, renting a house was never a business someone was in. You just ended up with extra property by virtue of your moving due to work or other reasons, and so you rented it out to someone in need. Due to this, the prices were always reasonable. The amount was not enough to make you rich, nor did the owner see it as a money-making enterprise. It was just some extra money they received, and someone made use of what was otherwise...

Photo by Nick Karvounis on Unsplash   The perennial excuse of our maid after taking an unannounced holiday which has become ever so often now is that she did come in the morning and rang our doorbell but we did not open the door for her. For long both of us who stay in the house have believed this excuse. Not because she did and we did not. Simply because we thought of letting it pass, giving her the benefit of doubt. There have been days like today when my friend was up since 5 AM due to some exam of his and know for sure that there was no doorbell ringing, but over the months he too has learnt the art of letting it go. “Aunty plays with us” is our constant topic of conversation. And in this game of her, she has been winning all this while. She didn’t come today morning too. And naturally, we had our usual “Arey yaar, ye aunty aaj bhi nahi aayi (Oh man, this maid didn’t even come today)” conversation and went out to have breakfast. On our way back in the dark parkin...

Mehmud walked and walked and walked with a bag hanging by his shoulder; a bag made of clothes and plastic threads, covered in dirt and also torn here and there. He had forgotten the distance he had walked so far. He had forgotten the lanes he had taken. He was on a mission today. He had to collect enough valuable trash that would fetch him hundred odd rupees for the day. On an average day he would make 60 to 70 rupees which would be enough for his sustenance but today he had set his target, a full sum of a hundred rupees. Sunday of coming week was a special day for him. It was his mother’s birthday which he celebrated with all smiles and clean clothes. Clean clothes was a luxury that he couldn’t afford every day. It was one of the many things that was out of reach for people living in his jhuggi . The long tenuous day that involved mostly walking in sun from one trash pit or smelly mountain to another would suck most of his energy leaving him with no time to take care of his clot...