India is urbanising rapidly, globalisation entered off guard forcing people to leave their ancestor houses in search of job opportunities in larger cities. Statistically about 30 Indians move from a rural to the urban area every minute. Similarly to Fatehpur and Khichan people in Phalodi also locking up and leaving their homes to the force of nature that eventually crumble them to pieces. Town itself looks very quiet and unlike as any other indian city. Phalodi might not be a place children harassing tourists asking for a pen or what not, but it is a place with a deficit of hotels, and mass refusal due to the “wedding season” or good old dislikes for foreigners. Whatever it was we decided to stop here for a day, have some food, walk around the fort and to move in before the evening. We walked down inside on the typical Indian narrow streets with faded houses and cow shit on the road, as rickshaw driver advised to look for room near the vegetable market. We took his advice and stopped by a jewellery store when somebody exclaimed “Good day!” Among the other bunch of questions the young man wondered why did we come to Phalodi. Hearing about our misfortunes he took his phone and texted to the friend who had a friend, who offered to stay in their half finished house they were building across the street from the jewellery shop. So we stayed for several days.