From those pursuing higher education to skilled and unskilled workers, Delhi’s growing rental squeeze is forcing young migrants, particularly Muslims, into precarious living conditions.
NEW DELHI — Every year, the national capital welcomes thousands of young men and women, drawn by the promise of education, career opportunities, and a life of social mobility.
The city, long celebrated as a hub of opportunity, prosperity, and cultural diversity, has historically accommodated those chasing dreams: students seeking higher education, young professionals pursuing careers, and skilled or unskilled labourers striving for survival. For decades, the capital has been a city of promise—a place where one could imagine building a life, however humble.
But in recent years, that promise is showing signs of strain. Housing in Delhi has become an increasingly rare commodity. Rents are soaring, available homes are scarce, and social discrimination has emerged as a hidden barrier for many migrants. The national capital, once considered accessible to all, now seems to be gradually excluding those it once welcomed. For many, this is more than an economic challenge—it is a struggle for dignity, identity, and belonging.
“I came here when I was 17 years old,” says Rahul Chaturvedi, a 30-year-old PhD scholar from Prayagraj. “I’ve stayed here for nearly 13 years, and I still don’t have anything concrete in my name. The more I try to get out of this trap, the more I feel entangled in it.”
Rahul’s story represents the lived reality of many young migrants in Delhi. His journey began in 2013, driven by a desire to pursue higher education and secure a future for himself. With dreams of academic excellence, he moved into Delhi’s crowded residential areas, expecting affordable housing. What he found, however, was a relentless cycle of financial pressure, precarious rental agreements, and poor living conditions.
According to a recent study, rents in Delhi and six other major Indian cities have increased by nearly 70% over six years, with the sharpest spikes occurring in the past two years. Today, Delhi ranks among India’s most expensive cities for renters. The report paints a worrying picture for young migrants, students, and professionals who rely on affordable housing to pursue education and employment opportunities.
“For me, the cost of living has doubled in just over a decade,” Rahul explains. “I remember when Amul full-cream milk was ₹18 or ₹19. Today, it’s ₹35. Everything else—inflation, vegetables, pulses—has increased too. When my landlord says my rent must double because of employment and inflation, what can I even argue?”
Rahul survives on a modest, non-net fellowship of ₹10,000 per month, supplemented occasionally by family support. He lives in Munirka, paying ₹500 a month for a one-room kitchen. Weekly contributions of ₹5,000 to cover rent and bills are a constant strain.
“Sometimes, at night, the plaster falls from the ceiling, and I have to clean it myself. Just two days ago, the ceiling looked fine, and now it’s broken. The construction quality here is abysmal. If you hit it with a hammer, it will dent immediately.”
For students like Rahul, Delhi presents extreme class divides. In areas near North Campus, brokers make it clear: finding accommodation within a reasonable budget is almost impossible. “They tell you to your face, ‘You can’t even get a hut here for Rs 6,000.’ And this is just for a room.”
Vikram Mishra, 26, a first-generation learner from Etawah, Uttar Pradesh, experienced a similar clash between ambition and reality. Graduating with a master’s degree in sociology from the Delhi School of Economics, Vikram began working as a field researcher at an independent school. He had hoped that employment would finally allow him a space of his own, but the high rents forced him to settle in Nehru Vihar, a neighbourhood that barely fits his budget.
“I pay Rs 6,500 per month,” Vikram explains. “But on top of that, I have internet bills, electricity, and the cost of maintaining my living arrangements. Almost ₹10,000 goes just to keep a roof over my head, which is a significant portion of my salary. Being a first-generation learner, I also need to send money home. Balancing all of this is impossible sometimes.”
The challenges of migration are not limited to students and salaried professionals. Skilled and unskilled workers face even harsher realities. Ahsan Raza, 25, from Uttar Pradesh, has been living in Delhi for the past five years, working as a delivery rider for various apps. Rising rents forced him to move from Shaheen Bagh to Jasola, where he now pays ₹6,000 per month for a small one-room apartment shared with his wife.
“Yes, there’s tension,” Ahsan admits. “If you put too much pressure on yourself, your mind stops working. You just have to keep going, somehow. We make ends meet, but it’s never easy. Every rupee counts.”
Structural Shortage
Experts analysing the rental crisis point to a structural shortage of housing as a key factor. Between 2001 and 2011, Delhi’s population growth rate in certain areas was negative, and predictions for 2011 to 2024 indicate similar trends, particularly in core areas of the Delhi Municipal Corporation and the New Delhi Municipal Corporation. Despite steady migration into the city, rental housing supply has not kept pace, leaving lower and middle-class tenants particularly vulnerable.
“There are three streams of migration in Delhi,” explains a housing expert. “The top-tier professionals—those in management, IT, and finance—earn sufficient salaries to secure housing. Their accommodation is rarely a concern. At the other end are construction labourers, handcart pullers, and auto-rickshaw drivers, who need basic amenities but not necessarily formal rental housing. It’s the middle segment—the students, young professionals, and lower-middle-class migrants—who face the greatest challenges.”
Bureaucratic Hurdles
Government interventions, experts argue, are insufficient. Although the Delhi government has increased minimum wages and proposed measures to regulate room rents, implementation remains weak. “The Rent Control Act exists on paper, but in practice, it often harms tenants rather than helping them. Landlords may stop issuing receipts or exploit loopholes, leaving vulnerable renters exposed. Meanwhile, bureaucratic hurdles, such as declaring Delhi residency for employment benefits, further complicate life for migrants.”
For Muslim tenants, the rental market is further fractured by social discrimination. Studies in Delhi and Prayagraj indicate that tenants’ social identities—including religion—affect landlords’ willingness to rent properties. Certain areas may be inaccessible due to informal biases, forcing Muslim migrants into specific neighbourhoods or substandard housing.
“The housing market for Muslims is highly fractured,” Rahul notes. “Various arguments are given for why we cannot rent in certain areas. It’s a social engineering issue. Without targeted government support, housing subsidies, and job creation, it is almost impossible to maintain a decent standard of life, let alone send money home or save for the future.”
Identity Crisis
Migration to Delhi carries social costs as well as economic ones. Many young migrants experience identity crises, caught between their hometowns and the city.
“When I go back home, people say, ‘You’re from Delhi now,’” Vikram explains. “But in Delhi, people don’t accept me because of my background, caste, or region. I don’t even know who I am sometimes. Am I from Delhi, or am I still from Uttar Pradesh?”
This identity struggle compounds the practical difficulties of housing, employment, and living costs. Migrants feel invisible to policymakers, ignored in a city that celebrates its wealth and culture but often neglects its most vulnerable residents.
Despite these hardships, many young migrants continue to cling to hope. They persevere in pursuit of education, employment, and the chance to support their families. But without structural reform, the situation will remain dire. Housing subsidies, increased rental supply, and protections against discrimination are urgently needed.
“Delhi is often called ‘the city for people with a heart,’” Rahul says. “But for thousands of migrants, it has become a city with no home. If government programmes do not step in to provide affordable housing and support, young people like me will continue to struggle to survive and belong.”
The stories of Rahul, Vikram, and Ahsan illuminate a broader crisis affecting hundreds of thousands of migrants in the national capital. Rising rents, poor housing conditions, and social discrimination intersect to create a precarious environment that undermines social mobility, educational attainment, and economic stability.
Few Options
Meanwhile, urban planning and municipal authorities have failed to expand rental housing adequately in central Delhi, leaving vulnerable populations with few options.
For students and professionals, the implications are profound. The inability to secure affordable housing affects not only day-to-day survival but also academic performance, mental health, and long-term prospects. For workers like Ahsan, the financial pressure undermines both quality of life and future security.
“I earn just enough to live,” Ahsan says. “After rent and bills, I have barely anything left. Delhi isn’t for the kind-hearted. You have to fight for everything—food, shelter, dignity. And even then, it’s never enough.”
Government inaction exacerbates these problems. Housing regulations, minimum wage policies, and welfare programmes are often poorly implemented, leaving tenants exposed. “Even if policies exist, they rarely reach the people who need them most,” Vikram notes. “Without targeted intervention, the cycle of rent exploitation and social exclusion continues.”
Social discrimination adds another layer of complexity. Muslim migrants, in particular, encounter informal barriers that restrict access to housing in desirable areas. Studies show that landlords frequently evaluate tenants based on religion, regional identity, or perceived cultural habits, making it difficult for many to secure suitable accommodation.
“The social engineering of the rental market is real,” Rahul says. “If you are Muslim, you have to navigate certain neighbourhoods and face constant questioning. It’s exhausting, and without government support, it’s almost impossible to find a home where you feel safe and accepted.”
The consequences of this housing crisis are far-reaching. Migrants face economic vulnerability, social marginalisation, and identity conflicts. Education and career ambitions are constrained by the cost and availability of housing, while families remain dependent on remittances that barely cover basic needs.
Experts argue that urgent government intervention is required. Targeted housing subsidies, incentives for private sector rental development, and enforcement of anti-discrimination regulations could alleviate the pressure. “The government must recognise that the lower and middle-middle-class migrants form the backbone of Delhi’s workforce and student population,” a housing policy analyst says. “Without intervention, these groups will continue to suffer, undermining the city’s social and economic fabric.”
Unfulfilled Promises
Rahul, Vikram, and Ahsan’s experiences illustrate a city caught between opportunity and inequality. While Delhi offers education, employment, and mobility, the burden of rising rents and social barriers restricts access for the very people who sustain the city’s vibrancy and productivity.
“Delhi promised so much,” Rahul reflects. “But for migrants like me, the promise remains unfulfilled. We came here with hope, but without support, it feels like we are being left behind.”
The stories of these young migrants underscore a stark reality: the national capital’s housing crisis is not just about economics—it is about justice, inclusion, and dignity. Without targeted interventions, government accountability, and social awareness, Delhi risks becoming a city that promises opportunity but delivers hardship, particularly for its most vulnerable residents.
For now, Rahul, Vikram, and Ahsan continue to navigate the city’s challenges, paying rent, managing bills, and striving to build a life. They remain hopeful that policy changes, social recognition, and increased housing support will one day allow them to call Delhi not just a city of opportunity, but a city of home.
“Delhi is still my home,” Vikram says quietly. “But it’s a home I have to fight for every single day. Without support, without intervention, thousands like me will continue to struggle in silence.”
This is the face of Delhi today: a city of dreams, determination, and despair. Thousands arrive each year, chasing hope, only to encounter the harsh realities of a rental market that has become unyielding. Their stories remind us that the promise of Delhi is fragile, contingent upon fair housing, accessible opportunities, and the recognition of migrants as integral members of the city’s social fabric.
