Kilokri is a mixed locality. Planned Middle and Higher Income Group government flats coexist with settlements, dense unplanned residential areas and housing complexes built on encroached land. There is a profusion of clustered and cloistered neighbourhoods. I live as a tenant in Kilokri. Last Sunday, as I walked home from the grocer’s, I ran into Mr. Malhotra, my landlord. He looked worried. He handed me a tenant verification form and said, “You must fill this, otherwise the police will create trouble.”

I looked through the form. It was titled, ’Format for Information of Tenants’. It was bilingual (Hindi/English) and had three sections: landlord’s, tenant’s, and an acknowledgment slip. Landlords were required to give their name, occupation with details of office, their phone number and address. Tenants were to provide four addresses and phone numbers – present, previous, past and office. Other details required were: date of leaving, details of office, family details and details of any official documentation (passport, driving licence, arms licence, ration card, voter ID card, or income tax – and so provide their PAN or Permanent Account Number). The acknowledgment slip had: received from, son/daughter of, resident of, phone number, residence let out to, son/daughter of, date, number of the diary in which entry is made, name, designation, signature of the recipient. I, the tenant, was required to fill in very minute details about my personal life. I had to write the naam (name) and umr (age) of the person I was living with, and my sambandh (relationship) with him/her. I found this very intrusive. Nevertheless, I filled the form.

Mr. Malhotra was hesitant about filling his section of the form. For him, the landlord, the form was a cause of anxiety. He has built three stories on his plot, which he has rented out, but has never declared the income accruing to him from this to the authorities. He was apprehensive that the tenant verification form was a facade to elicit information about his property, most of which is constructed in blatant violation of existing municipal laws. After much consideration, he forwarded his widowed mother’s name as the owner of the house, as she does not have a functioning bank account, nor a PAN – sources from which data about identity and income can be collated. Having finished filling up his section, an anxious Mr. Malhotra turned to me and said, ”Now you must come with me to the police station. Lets go after lunch.”

On my way to my room, I ran into the old couple who live on the second floor. I asked them whether they had been verified.

Uncle: I had to tell Malhotra the procedure from start to finish. He didn’t know a thing.

Taha: I don’t understand.

Uncle: On 2nd December there was a piece in The Hindustan Times city supplement stating that all landlords must verify their tenants by 23rd December, otherwise they will be fined. Maybe even face arrest.

Taha: So?

Uncle: What do you mean, ’so’? We are old retired people. We don’t want any trouble. After reading the piece I went to the police station, got the form and told Malhotra about it. I told him to make sure that all the tenants fill this form, or we might end up getting involved with the police. I thanked him and climbed up the stairs to my room. I wondered what would be done with the forms. What kinds of databases will be made? For what would they be used? For the moment, however, filling the form created within me frustration, anger, and a feeling of extreme vulnerability.