H1B (Home Break?)

Purely seen from the eyes of an average Indian family, the H1B visa has always been a paradox — a blessing on paper, but in reality, often a home breaker.

For decades, young Indian students have set their sights on American colleges. Many of them were not toppers or prodigies; they were ordinary students from middle-class families, often going to colleges that were also, by every measure, quite ordinary. Yet, the dream was never about the degree itself — it was about what came after. The H1B. The golden ticket. The promise of a well-paying job, the allure of the dollar-rupee differential, the belief that those borrowed lakhs of rupees could be repaid with ease once America opened its doors.

Parents signed loan documents with trembling hands, mortgaging futures for the possibility of a brighter one. Mothers filled suitcases with masalas and memories. Fathers stood silently at airport gates, calculating silently when the first repayment installment might get covered. The gamble was always immense — but it was softened by hope.

Many of these bets did pay off. Students did land jobs, loans were cleared, and families who once feared losing their only home now built a second one. There was a sense of upward movement, of having “made it.” In living rooms across India, relatives whispered admiration for the child who “settled abroad.” Success, at least in social terms, was undeniable.

But underneath this success lay quieter stories. Families left behind with aching gaps at the dinner table. Elderly parents aging faster without the company of their children. Festivals celebrated over video calls, with gifts arriving by courier instead of hands. The pride of financial security sat uneasily beside the loneliness of empty homes. Some parents admitted, in moments of rare candor, that they would trade the newly bought apartment for the presence of their child in the old one.

For many, the H1B was not just a visa; it was a fault line that ran straight through family life. It stitched together a narrative of achievement while quietly unthreading relationships. It offered the illusion of certainty — that dollars could fix every problem — while creating new problems that no currency could solve.

And yet, year after year, the cycle repeated. Students dreamed. Parents borrowed. Families hoped. The H1B remained a beacon, but also a wedge. It was a symbol of escape, but also of absence.

Perhaps it is time we acknowledged both sides of this story. For some, the H1B has indeed been a blessing. But for countless others, it has been what I call — without exaggeration — the home breaker visa. And maybe, just maybe, if its influence wanes now, Indian families will rediscover that success need not always mean distance, and security need not always wear an American stamp.