“I moved to Jaipur for my master's degree. I'd never lived outside my home city before, so I started looking for a place weeks in advance. I didn't want trouble. I wanted something boring.
I found the room through a broker near Malviya Nagar. Second floor. Balcony. Enough light to study. The landlord was an older man who lived downstairs with his wife. When I visited, his wife offered me water. She asked what I studied. She said the room had been empty for a while.
Everything was settled. The broker told me to bring my documents the next day.
Before leaving, the landlord asked my full name so he could write it down. I said it without thinking. Muhammad Khan.
He nodded. Didn't react. Still smiled.
That evening, the broker called and said there was a small issue. The landlord's brother had advised against renting to students. He said the room was no longer available.
I asked if I had done something wrong. The broker paused. Then said quietly, ‘It's not about you.'
Over the next week, the same thing happened twice. Once the owner said the family had decided to keep the room for relatives. Another time, I was told the building association had objections. In one house, the woman who had shown me the room didn't meet my eyes when she said no.
By the fourth visit, I started introducing myself differently. I shortened my name. I let the broker do most of the talking. I watched faces closely after the name exchange.
The room I finally got was smaller and more expensive. The landlord didn't ask my name. He just asked for the deposit in cash.
On the first night, I sat on the floor because my mattress hadn't arrived yet. I remember thinking how strange it was that I had worried so much about furniture when the real issue was whether I would be allowed to exist somewhere without explanation.
A few months later, a classmate was looking for a place. I went with him to visit a flat in the same area where I had been turned away. He said his full name without hesitation. The landlord smiled and started talking about electricity bills and water timings.
On the walk back, my friend complained about how hard house hunting was. I nodded. I didn't tell him about the rooms that had almost been mine.
It's not the rejection that stays with me. It's how polite everyone was while doing it. How easily belonging can be denied without anyone raising their voice.”