More than a decade ago looking for our first home in Bombay, I learnt the value of a view. Road-view, garden-view, Sea-view, Sea-Link view.. if it’s the view you want, usually there is a premium to pay. This one time I was called excitedly by my broker to come and see a ‘hot property’ with a Sea Link view that I could buy without selling my kidneys.

As I peered out of the window, there it was! The newly inaugurated Bandra-worli Sea Link gloriously standing at exactly 90 degree to my vision. Tall and proud amidst the glorious ocean, with the beautiful highway bordering this gorgeous sight. Taking in the beautiful scene, my eyes moved downwards to the….. what?! What was this?

I looked at my broker with curious disbelief.. “Yeh kya hai?”

You see, between the window and the view to the glorious engineering marvel, was a large makeshift mini trash-dumping ground that was filthy and mildly stinking. With the confidence of a serial fibber he says, “Look straight na madam, don’t get distracted by looking down.”

I heard that again and again. “There are slums on the left madam, but don’t look there.” “See the window in the hall has a good view, don’t look outside the window in your bedroom.” “Just keep the curtains to this window drawn if you don’t want the neighbours to see inside the hall.”

In a year where a global catastrophe has inflicted trauma on almost everyone, I often stood looking outside from my window, watching the eerie silence. Broken often by the intercom.. “Madam, another parcel.” Veggies, groceries ordered for delivery. Truly isolated from human beings, barely glancing at faceless people with gloved hands in the compulsory interactions one needed to have.