If I were a landlord I would hand you a flat based on one question only. I'd scratch my behind and yawn obnoxiously and rap three fingers smartly on my belly and then ask, what will you leave behind when you finally decide to go?

And then I'd wait for the answers, because everyone leaves something behind even if they don't know it. They leave their things in the space just like they decide to leave the space themselves. A book with a name on it, a soggy bar of soap, chappals with the soles torn out. Sometimes an earring, something overlooked. Or lurid underwear stuffed into a drawer, just for kicks. I'd definitely give you the flat if you said you'd leave a crayon drawing on the wall. Maybe if you said a Cosco ball, signed, or a family photograph. But if you said A Body and then looked pointedly at me, I'd hug you and cook you your first meal in there.

If I were the tenant I'd stand there and screw up my eyes and focus on your moustache, and wonder whether A Body is a good reply, maybe A Rubber Ducky would work better, which one? Definitely cute over witty, blokes in lungis probably don't want to hear witty. But what I'd leave behind in any case is a message stamped with morning cups of tea onto any piece of wooden furniture I can find. It would say in coordinated circles, HAHA CLEAN THIS BEFORE HE FINDS OUT, just so you can swear under your breath.