Torn flexes tied to bamboo poles, cheap tarpaulin sheets spread over the structure – doubling as the roof – and some lost memories of ‘good old times’ together make what Mohd Razak calls ‘home’. As the heat of May Sun climbs up, he pulls out one of the chairs and sits in the foyer for hours waiting for the evening breeze that his city is known for. Situated at the centre of Ranchi, his ‘home’ in Islamnagar is not another slum among hundreds, it is a space where once the memories have got perished, livelihoods were lost and hopes crumbled.