Life and Lies of a Broker !!

Ok. This title is not inspired from Harry Potter, or perhaps it is, cuz it was suggested by a friend who is an ardent fan. We were supposed to co-author this, but for now, I'll have to do. Here goes.

There is one person who might take this one a little personally, but do we really care. Its something that happened to me and some of my friends at the beginning of last year (ya, you really need to dial the clock THAT back, cuz blogging is somthin' that i started recently), when we were in need of a place to rest our asses in Bangalore at the end of all the 'ITing' every day.

We landed in Bangalore, in batches. We were 7 in all, and hunting a place for 7 bachelor's is like finding a needle (that may or may not exist) in a haystack. Things like boozing, smoking, girls, loud music and all the other little tid bits that disrupt the peacuful enviornment around, automatically get associated with a group like ours. Not to suggest that people are wrong in this, but they did falter by not including the GEEK quotient into the equation. Besides all those external pieces, everyone had their reservations about travelling long to their respective offices. Some right, some misplaced [arghh, idiots]. If it ain't for those misplaced pieces, we would have lived not 7 but 12. Anyways, not the point.

All this posed some serious threats to our plans of docking ouselves together at one place. But you know the human race. Hope against Hope (exaggeration, perhaps. Deal with it ;)) . So, we set out, one fine holiday, divided to look at multiple options, trusting each other, to get the job done. As it turned out, no one was ready to lease us a 'shelter', most of 'em retorting to the same old "7 bachelors and peace" story. The only option now seemed was to take 2 flats. When all seemed lost, Mr. Mukti (henceforth being reffered as Mr. Arse) stepped in.

So, this Mr. Arse, is a broker, has his office in one of the most posh areas of Bangalore, with slick interiors and a good first impression. The apartment, that was offered, was apparantly also nearby. When someone told me one month's rent for the place, i thought it to be a joke. I would never have agreed to the insane amount for a semi-furnished place if i thought we had a choice. The brokerage was o'course killing us, but since everyone stood there in front of Mr. Arse with their puppy dog face, there was absolutely no chance in hell of any liniency on his part. So, we scoffed a huge amount as brokerage, discussed lots of petty things about the accommodation and signed the contract (1 year). The mistake that we made was failing to recognize the fact that Verbal Communication amounts to zilch in the real world.

What is not in the contract is out of a nearby Bangalore drain.

Things like club membership being included in the rent, a "big big naala" that was supposed to be closed off within 2 months, water supply bill which was also supposed to have been already taken care of, might seem petty things now, but they were huge back then. He had forgotten all the promises that he made us but when it came to the rent or the security deposit advance, post dated checks was the way to go. Trust is like that Achilles' spot, and when you get lied, straight faced, that often, it is bound to die, specially when the safety deposit is, in total, more than twice of what I was earning during my complete internship of 6 months. Naturally we started making arrangements a good 2 months before. We had signed a years contract, on Mr. Arse's assurance that we can leave in 6 months and will be refunded the whole deposit amount. Our fatal flaw, once again came to haunt us. By this time however, since Mr. Arse has stopped returning our calls, we decided to talk directly with the owner. To our surprise (put as much sarcasm as possible in those 3 words), the client went to the extent to say "Who the hell is Mr. Arse", when we tried to tell him about our agreement.  Hope this does make the picture clear.

Anyways, we somehow convinced the owner to just take 1 months rent from our deposit and return the rest. But the story didn't end here. When we went to en-cash the cheque, to our horror, they said the signs didn't match. I mean I know we made a bad deal, but so much wrong with one thing, I mean I had to pray. Thankfully, we didn't depend upon Mr. Arse for sorting things out, and the owner was a genuine guy, we received the money though online transfer in time.

I know it is no rocket science, renting an apartment, and dealing with a broker, but what can I say, we made a fool of ourselves.

P.S. This was supposed to come out as my first blog, but I never sat down and finished it. Finally :)

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