Real Estates vs Man-Woman Dynamics

There are problems everywhere. Orissa’s on fire, Mujahiddeen on the run, Shobha De extracting non-violence out of Raj Thackerey and the smoking in public places banned. And there was my huge mammoth. The big elephant in my life right now. The Real Estate. In Mumbai, while rents are shockingly high, a small one bedroom flat probably costs you a mini village, there are other costs that determine you hate the real estate forever. Especially to a person like me, who has lived in Hyderabad, Chennai, Delhi and Bangalore collectively. Once you pay the rent and your broker’s dues, you think you’ve gotten your dream house and you’ll live there happily ever after – na na! That’s if you’re only in the other cities I’ve lived in except in good old Mumbai. Here, brokers spill your bloody and your money to the last drop, get you a flat at the highest rent, take a huge brokerage, and then after a year and every year after that when you renew your papers, you’re to pay them the new rent’s brokerage. Which means you’ll keep paying brokerage every year with the increase in your rent. And that too a good two months rent into the broker’s outstretched arms every time the owner increases your rent. See, that’s the weirdest thing I have ever heard. As I see it. He’s clearly sitting on his ass and earning money every year, a huge one at that, just because he helped you find a house in Andheri West in 1995. Other cities never have it, and why only Mumbai? I’d rather the broker comes home, irons my husband’s shirts and take two months rent from my hands. At least, the bloody shirts are ironed. What’s surprising is that, everyone from top notch authors to journalists watch this tirade without batting an eyelid saying that “this is how it works!” Am I the only one feeling unfair? Which brings me firmly back to this theory that I am alone dealing with this unfair bit while my husband has accepted it and is really wondering why I can’t take like it is. For me, it’s my hard earned money, I’m fine with paying huge rents living it a city like Mumbai, but paying brokerage every year? Having a resident ghost hanging out at home every year? While all this was happening. I noticed something else. Some psychological goof up! A theory on how men and women are wired. While I rave and rant about financial situations, my husband, tongue firmly in cheek, tells me “Is there anything we can do? Every one pays these guys,” and gets back to checking mail. So if I can’t so anything, I can’t rant about it. Then begins the saga of dealing with male-female things. Why is it that I always feel the need to talk about things and discuss it while my husband feels that we need not discuss it that much when we can’t do anything about it. Though to give him credit, I know he’s honestly supportive, hugs me and tells me that everythings gonna be ok. But still, why is it that I need to rant and I need him to rant with me? Or do I just want validation to the drama without the solution? Maybe I need him to sympathise with me, or go on listening to me without telling me to suck it up. Whatever it is, I need that gossipy session and an all-cry-nighter with people who understand this need. Wierd? I can't care less. Is that why I miss my girlfriends?

Today’s fare: The new sandals with circular type things on them from Victor & Rolf are the least bit enticing. Weird again!