The High Cost of Cheap Living in Delhi’s Paying Guest Dens

The recent collapse of a five-storey building housing a boys’ paying guest (PG) accommodation in south Delhi’s Satya Niketan has shaken the very foundations of a way of life for thousands of students and young professionals. Beneath this tragedy lies a far more insidious problem: the prioritization of profit over people in India’s capital city.

For decades, Delhi has been a magnet for those seeking education, employment, or a better life. Many have traded the comforts and security of home for the anonymity and affordability of a PG, which has become their de facto second home. These dormitories-turned-apartments offer a place to eat, study, and socialize after college or work.

However, this sense of security is an illusion. Behind the façade of comfortable accommodations and convenient amenities lies a web of exploitative practices that put lives at risk. The allegations against Hariram Gupta, the owner of the collapsed building, are particularly disturbing: constructing four additional floors on top of an already dilapidated structure to maximize rental income, despite allegedly knowing it couldn’t bear the weight.

The investigation will likely expose more than just the greed behind this particular tragedy. It will shed light on the murky world of Delhi’s PG mafia, where private players facilitate illegal construction and commission-based operations with the tacit approval of authorities. This is a culture that values profit over people, sacrificing safety standards for every last rupee.

For students like Sneha Mishra, who lives in Sant Nagar’s “New PG for Girls,” the incident has changed her perspective on her second home. “What if the building we trust with our lives is not safe?” she now wonders, echoing the fears of many others.

In a city where every extra thousand rupees can make all the difference, safety often takes a backseat to affordability. A better-maintained PG may come with higher monthly rent, which is an unaffordable luxury for students and entry-level workers on tight budgets.

Shilpashree Mondal, who lives in a PG in Noida, poignantly illustrates this dilemma: “I don’t think even a working woman like me has much of a real choice when it comes to choosing where to live. Budget decides most of it, especially in a city like Delhi, where finding a safe and affordable place can be difficult.”

The collapse has also forced residents to scrutinize their living arrangements. Pallavi Joshi, who hails from Uttarakhand’s Haldwani and has lived in a Delhi PG for nearly two years, now finds herself questioning the design of her building: “I had never thought about the design of my PG before. After Satya Niketan, I started noticing how my building is designed and wondering whether there are enough safety measures in place.”

As the investigation unfolds, it’s clear that this tragedy has far-reaching implications for India’s urban planning, regulatory frameworks, and social policies. The question now is: what will be done to prevent such tragedies from occurring again? Will Delhi’s authorities finally take concrete steps to address the PG mafia, prioritize public safety over private interests, and provide affordable housing options that don’t compromise on quality?

Until then, the memory of Satya Niketan will serve as a poignant reminder of the human cost of neglecting basic rights and standards in our pursuit of economic growth. The city’s residents must continue to demand accountability from their leaders, just as they have begun to hold themselves accountable for their own safety. For only through a collective effort can we ensure that Delhi’s paying guest accommodations become more than just cheap living arrangements – but truly safe havens for those who call the city home.