Once upon a time, many lived in scattered homes with meagre belongings. Then came a great fire, and in the chaos that followed, they built a grand apartment complex called Elite Apartments & Residences – The Haven (EAR-TH for short).
A clever real estate agent named D-US-T-Y decided to do all the legwork to set up the apartment and soon crowned himself landlord and expected other tenants (who had equal rights in the building) to also pay rent to him. He lived in the tallest penthouse of the complex. His flat had multiple bedrooms, numerous balconies and every room had air-conditioners and he lived a lavish lifestyle himself. Most importantly, he kept the keys to the lift with himself.
Thereafter, he decided to set all the house rules - Who could use the lift, when the water motor would run, and how many guests were allowed. For decades, most tenants followed his rules because, frankly, they were too tired to argue and busy with their own lives. But now he’s older, sometimes forgetful, and occasionally contradicts himself. On Monday he shakes your hand promising friendship, on Tuesday he would hike your rent, and by Friday he’s scolding you in the WhatsApp group. Naturally, the tenants are beginning to wonder whether they should listen as much as they used to.
The building was a curious mix: from one-bedroom homes run by struggling tenants, to lavish duplexes with servants’ quarters, and even a mysterious outhouse apartment. Each tenant has their quirks, their politics, their friends, and their fights. The common areas including the staircase, the water tank, the generator, and the compound wall — were supposed to belong to everyone, but they were the source of endless drama.
The Apartment Rules
D-US-T-Y’s rules were Tughlak-ian in nature :-
1. Rent must be paid by everyone to him and that too only in crisp cash notes in denominations which he decided.
2. Lift - Whoever presses the button first gets to use the lift but the keys of the lift were with D-US-T-Y .
3. No fireworks in the hallway but all fireworks were to be bought from his shop.
4. Dogs must be on leash.
5. Any activity undertaken inside your own home or between neighbours has to be approved by D-US-T-Y.
6. One could not start any business without D-US-T-Y’s express approval.
7. Above rules do not apply to D-US-T-Y.
He could often be heard saying “My building, my currency. If you want to ride the lift, you pay in the notes that I want.”
The Rich Merchant’s Expanding Balconies
The rich merchant people know as Singh Ji had a successful business within the complex. Every one of the residents were his customers. He sold cheap appliances, curtains, and even furniture to everyone made in his factory at throwaway prices. Tenants loved the bargains. But soon they noticed the corridors filling with his boxes and garbage. When others protested, he smiled politely: “What garbage? That’s packing material for YOUR benefit. I’m helping the everyone save money!”
The stairwell, however, looked increasingly like a warehouse. He started expanding his already large apartment. He also has a habit of telling other tenants: “Your balcony shade is too long, cut it!” while his own balconies began jutting into common space, and he has even tried extending beams toward neighbours’ flats.
The Peculiar Outhouse Dweller
Life in EAR-TH was run on ceiling fans. A lucky few have air-conditioners, but they depended on the main building grid, which went off often. That’s when everyone remembered Punit Ladmera, the outhouse dweller. His case is a very peculiar one. He once lived happily upstairs in a large flat with many of his relatives, but after a quarrel and legal issues, he was forced to shift down to a smaller outhouse. But he is a tough nut. He has secretly put up solar panels, giving him extra electricity. He sells that power cheaply to a few friends. Whenever the lights goes out, he smirks and waits. If neighbours want cool air, they had to buy his electricity. Some did it openly; others sneaked in at night with wires. D-US-T-Y fumes because he doesn’t like others doing side-deals, but what can he do? He does not have the strength to confront Punit. D-US-T-Y threatened everyone with fines, but the fans had to keep spinning.
The Dog Owner
On the second floor lives the dog owner, Satish Rally. The dog is fierce, loud, and occasionally bites visiting guests. The owner insists: “This is just self-defense. My dog protects me. And besides, the real problem is that stray cats keep entering my flat.” Trouble is, once in a while he sets the dog loose and it goes and bites the neighbours whom people know as party cousins. Every time someone complains to D-US-T-Y, he says, “What dog? It’s just a puppy!” Sometimes the dog even lunges at guests coming from the neighboring colony, leading to howls, accusations, and endless late-night committee meetings.
The Party Cousins
The Party Cousins, Thomas, Lennon and Cyrius are cousins with very similar interests. Their parties involve fireworks on any occasion which irritates the entire building, especially Satish. They invite outsiders to cheer or supply them with more fireworks at their noisy parties. Their lighting of fireworks in the staircase leads to disruption of daily life in the building. Regularly, the Party Cousins set off fireworks in Rally’s balcony and his dog starts barking furiously. Others including D-US-T-Y rush to the stairwell to either calm things down or secretly cheer.
D-US-T-Y seems to have a soft corner for Satish Rally, so he tries to tell off the cousins, who anyway don’t listen to him. Meanwhile, the rest of the building mutters: “Can’t these people stop blocking the passage? Some of us just want to get to work.” This has become a recurring nuisance that makes Singh Ji and Punit roll their eyes but secretly use the fights to their own advantage.
The Mild Mannered resident
Mohan Naik works late, pays his dues, and tries not to get dragged into society drama. But he’s practical: when Punit offered cheap solar electricity, he quietly signed up. At the same time, he tells D-US-T-Y, “Don’t worry, I understand your point of view. We will try and pay in cash but since we all have UPI now, why not go digital? Anyway, please come for chai sometime.” Everyone suspects he’s playing both sides, but hey! his lights stay on, his fan works, and he gets access to the lift once in a while.
The Ex-Serviceman
There’s also an ex-serviceman, Nathoo Ram. Retired but still disciplined, he marches around the society with a stick, conducting “drills” for security staff and reminding everyone of safety. Some tenants love his presence; others grumble that he interferes too much. He especially can’t stand Punit, and every time the two cross paths, the whole society holds its breath.
The Daily Dramas
Arguments erupts in EAR-TH daily, often at the notice board in the lobby. D-US-T-Y claims he has the right to the lift, but Singh Ji insists he has provided wires for half the circuits, while smaller tenants beg for fair turns because without the lift, their groceries are stuck. D-US-T-Y has been demanding contributions for the compound wall. Some agree grudgingly, others refused: “Why should we fund security guards?” We already pay rent. We’ll protect our own flats, thank you very much. Why should we pay for the whole wall?” Even the domestic staff weren’t spared. Some work loyally for D-US-T-Y, others secretly take extra shifts cleaning up for Singh Ji and many simply tried to survive between all owners.
The Committees and Clubs
Like any apartment complex, tenants have formed groups:
• The Study Circle in Flat 370 discuss how to live independently and maybe even build their own separate mini-lifts one day.
• There is a Veterans Club headed by Nathoo Ram which meet often always keep warning about threats but half their members refuse to pay their subscription fees.
• The Committee of Rules and Regulations for Unified Neighbourhood Affairs (CoRRUNA) still exists, but most tenants ignore their circulars unless it suited them. They keep minutes of meetings but no one really follows their resolutions. Everyone claps politely, then goes home and does what they like. It has become defunct but does meet once in a while.
• There is also a “Let’s Just Stay Friends” WhatsApp group: They share festival greetings and recipes but avoid commenting on society politics.
Life Goes On
Through all this, D-US-T-Y, who wants to be in every committee has been anxious about his slipping authority. Many feel he will be forced to step down as a self styled estate manager. Lately, he has tried to prop himself up by declaring that he is personally settling all issues in the complex. Singh Ji is growing more ambitious and hopes to force some of his neighbours to sell their apartment to him. Whispers abound that he will soon declare himself chairman. Punit has been filing cases to acquire the apartments from his relatives aggressively. Mohan Naik has been trying to keep his books balanced while making friends with everyone. In the meanwhile, the fans keep spinning, garbage is piled up in the corners, bills arrive, and quarrels echo in the corridors and tenants with smaller flats complain that their service charges are unaffordable thanks to all these grand quarrels.
The Immoral of the Story
So, dear reader, next time you hear about geopolitics, conflicts, or summits, just think of EAR-TH. The noise, the fights, the secret side-deals — it’s all just apartment politics. And remember, in every society, the real question isn’t who comments maximum in the WhatsApp group. The real question is: Who controls the lift because in this building, as in the world, whoever has the lift decides who gets to rise.
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Note to Readers: This is just my pun-ny take on apartment life. Think of it as a parody on the world around us, tucked into one residency. The characters? Well, half the fun is in spotting who’s hiding in plain sight. 😉
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