5.

A few months into Bombay and I realized that I was beginning to obsess over houses.

Late at night I rest my head against the window of a cab to look at the chawls stuck, hundreds in a row, in beautiful rundown buildings on the Eastern Expressway. The eyes stray with equal curiosity to the townside bungalows, the old houses in Bandra village, the Dharavi slums, the tall jungles of Nariman Point.

I was not like this before.