House H(a)unting

I never knew house hunting in Delhi could be this difficult. Over the last few months, I've followed every trick in the trade and I'm still homeless.
The Broker robbed me of 50 bucks and pretended to show me houses. It was surprising the way the houses he showed me were just what I told him I did not want. In order to ensure that I did not feel cheated he made me climb flights and flights of stairs and explore dingy rooms, dirty rooms, rooms without kitchens, some without bathrooms and even rooms for the future...as in rooms that were under construction. Surprisingly, i'm still feeling cheated!
Then I tried the time-tested method of word of mouth. The result, every alternate day I have someone asking me if I've found a house yet or not!
And thinking that God helps those who help themselves, I jumped into the fray. Sometimes with friends and relatives and at other times relatively alone, I walked all across Munirka and Ber Sarai and parts of Rajinder Nagar and Karol Bagh, just arbit-ly asking around if anyone had a house to spare. And believe it or not, it was this method that scored a hit...well, almost... more than once. The first time I tried this, I made friends with a chai wala, an istri wala, a maid and not to forget, half-a-dozen shopkeepers. And, I also found a house I liked.
Of course, it was not their fault that the lady quoted an exorbitant price for a small two-room flat. So I continued to be homeless.
The second and third time I tried the trick, I did find a house. But that's when I discovered another big problem. It wasn't enough to find a house. It was also necessary to LIKE the house you found...and the probability of liking the house I found seemed to be very negligible. And in the only two cases where the entire equation actually worked fate stuck its nose into my business. The houses were taken before I could say Haunted House!
And then, once again, I was left homeless.
Any ideas? I'm already running out of time, patience and enthusiasm!

THE FINE PRINT

Another blast in another corner of the country
A few more dead and few more left to die
Another deadline delayed and another late night
Some things are the way nothing should be
And yet, nothing is the way everything should be
No tears shed and no sympathy gained
It’s just a toll after all
It’s another number game
Another race to the top
No blood spilt, here, there or anywhere
For after all, just casualties named in black and white
No faces, just bodies
And sometimes, just body parts
To be stared at in shock and sorrow
At the breakfast table the morning after
In the end, the dead are dead
And another deadline waits to be met