I’ll start this post the same way as the last one: we’re still apartmentless. Hopefully this will be the last time I say it. We’ve found a candidate that is 95% ours (landlord’s words, not mine). In Delhi, getting to 100% is no easy feat though. We’ve seen 31 apartments so far – most of which didn’t meet our standards – and the ones we liked we weren’t necessarily worthy of.
Landlords all over the world look for the perfect tenant. Someone with a good, fixed income, likely to stay put for a while. Delhi landlords take it to another level (Delhiites be warned: generalizations ahead). Online ads will specify whether meat eaters may reside in said apartment, and if bachelors are permitted. In person, they will ask you for your job title, office number and supervisor’s name – and to actually get the lease you may have to supply your contract of employment. Others will ask you to be home before 11 pm every night. For security purposes only, of course. The old lady with a potentially nice house on that nice, clean street will not even let you in to see the empty flat unless you are Bengali and have children to entertain her.
And then other landlords are just plain funny.
Landlord: How can you go upstairs without even introducing yourself? I don’t even have your agent’s card!
Mister C: Sorry Uncle, my name is Cyriac.
Mister C: Cyriac
Mister C: Cyriac (with Indian accent)
Landlord: Krak! Yes, Mr. Job he is international Christian, living just there. He died.
In a few days we will know whether we’ve been deemed worthy of the above-mentioned apartment with the beautiful windows. Until then, we keep our ears and eyes open to news of other open abodes, while taking a weekend of rest from physical apartment hunting (read: scouting for second hand furniture, ovens and fridges – and cafés with soy milk!).
Here’s hoping for a weekend full of blog-worthy events!
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