In Residence

In the 40-odd years that I’ve lived in my parents’ home, I’ve seen its character change dramatically. It is brassy, brash, noisy, crude, polluted, cramped, filthy. It has more eyesores per square foot than a sore eye is capable of looking at. The colony has no cohesion, no direction and no philosophy other than a worship of money no matter what its colour. You can’t get three neighbours to agree on anything. The way ahead is perfectly clear: it’s "Everyman for himself and the devil take the hindmost!"

Any good points? None. Some small mercies like FabIndia and a few dilapidated conveniences within walking distance. If the MCD (itself a monument to sleaze and dereliction) ever decided to divert some money to institute the equivalent of an Oscar for the "Best Colony at Making a Fast Buck" then, surely, Gutter Klaash, as sadda auto and taxi wallahs call it, would win hands down!