Why More Indians Are Walking Away from India: And Then Regretting It
Nidhi | Nov 12, 2025, 17:53 IST
Passenger in the Flight
( Image credit : Pexels )
Every year, thousands of Indians pack their dreams and move abroad — chasing success, stability, and the promise of a better life. But after the excitement fades, many discover the emotional, financial, and cultural costs no one talks about. From loneliness in foreign cities to the pressure of appearing “settled,” this story explores why the great Indian dream abroad often ends in regret — and why, for many, the idea of home feels stronger the farther they go from it.
By the time your friend announces they’re moving to Toronto, Sydney, or Berlin, you already know the routine.
There’s the airport selfie with “new beginnings,” a tearful goodbye to family, and an Instagram caption full of dreams. But give it a few months — and the excitement fades into something quieter. The posts stop. The smiles feel stretched. The “new beginning” starts looking like a long, lonely middle.
More than 2.3 million Indians have moved abroad in the last few years, chasing the dream of a better life. Yet many end up asking themselves a painful question — was it worth it?
We’ve been raised on stories of “so-and-so’s son settled in Canada” or “my cousin works in London.” To “settle abroad” means you’ve made it. But what happens when that symbol of success turns into a source of silent struggle?
The reality behind that visa stamp is often much less glamorous than the story told back home.
You start missing small things — the chaos of Indian streets, random chai breaks, even your mother shouting from the kitchen. That’s when it hits you: adventure is fun, but belonging is irreplaceable.
You go from Diwali parties with 30 cousins to video calls at 3 a.m. The streets are clean, but they’re also empty. People smile politely but keep their distance. You learn that silence can be louder than noise.
According to NRI Affairs, cultural isolation is one of the top three reasons young Indian migrants struggle to adjust abroad — especially within the first year.
In India, your day is filled with people, motion, and a sense of community. Abroad, it’s just… quiet. You log out of work at 5, and then what? No neighbors dropping in, no chai breaks, no shared laughter.
The West promises structure — but sometimes, that structure feels like a cage made of calm.
Everyone assumes earning in dollars is an upgrade. But earning in dollars also means spending in dollars.
Rent, groceries, healthcare — everything eats into your paycheck. An apartment in Toronto can cost more than a luxury home EMI in India.
Yes, you earn more, but you also pay more — financially, and often emotionally.
A World Bank study (2024) found that nearly 40% of new Indian immigrants reported “higher-than-expected financial strain” during their first two years abroad.
The sun sets at 4 p.m., and with it, your energy. You start missing the warm chaos of Indian summers. The chill isn’t just in the air — it seeps into your mood.
You realize that weather, something you never cared about in India, can shape how you feel every single day.
Even if you’re struggling, you can’t really say it.
Back home, everyone believes you’re living the dream. You post pictures of snow, sunsets, and cityscapes — but not of the loneliness. Because in India’s social script, coming home “defeated” feels shameful.
One immigrant put it bluntly in a Reddit expat forum:
“You can’t admit you’re unhappy. They’ll just say, ‘At least you’re abroad.’”
You’re not fully from “there” or “here.” You exist somewhere in between - fluent in both worlds, but belonging to neither.
It’s the unspoken truth of migration: once you leave, you never really return the same.
Leaving India isn’t a betrayal. For many, it’s an act of courage — to explore, to grow, to test what’s possible. But the truth that no one prepares you for is this: every place gives you something, and takes something in return.
Abroad, you may find order, opportunity, and freedom — but you’ll lose a little bit of warmth, spontaneity, and belonging.
In India, you may battle chaos, crowds, and endless noise — but you’ll never have to look far to find love, laughter, or someone who knows your story.
So maybe the question was never about where we live, but what makes us feel alive.
Because home isn’t just a pin on a map — it’s the place where your soul stops searching.
There’s the airport selfie with “new beginnings,” a tearful goodbye to family, and an Instagram caption full of dreams. But give it a few months — and the excitement fades into something quieter. The posts stop. The smiles feel stretched. The “new beginning” starts looking like a long, lonely middle.
1. The Dream of “Settling” Abroad Isn’t Just a Dream, It’s a Status Symbol
Air India Delhi-Bengaluru flight diverted to Bhopal after technical snag
( Image credit : ANI )
We’ve been raised on stories of “so-and-so’s son settled in Canada” or “my cousin works in London.” To “settle abroad” means you’ve made it. But what happens when that symbol of success turns into a source of silent struggle?
The reality behind that visa stamp is often much less glamorous than the story told back home.
2. The First Few Months Feel Like a Movie, Until the Credits Roll
Traveling abroad
( Image credit : Freepik )
You start missing small things — the chaos of Indian streets, random chai breaks, even your mother shouting from the kitchen. That’s when it hits you: adventure is fun, but belonging is irreplaceable.
3. The Culture Shock Is Real, And It Doesn’t Go Away
video call in discussion
( Image credit : Pexels )
You go from Diwali parties with 30 cousins to video calls at 3 a.m. The streets are clean, but they’re also empty. People smile politely but keep their distance. You learn that silence can be louder than noise.
According to NRI Affairs, cultural isolation is one of the top three reasons young Indian migrants struggle to adjust abroad — especially within the first year.
4. The Work-Life Balance Feels More Like a Work-Life Void
Working man
( Image credit : Pixabay )
In India, your day is filled with people, motion, and a sense of community. Abroad, it’s just… quiet. You log out of work at 5, and then what? No neighbors dropping in, no chai breaks, no shared laughter.
The West promises structure — but sometimes, that structure feels like a cage made of calm.
5. The Money Equation Isn’t as Simple as It Looks
Rent, groceries, healthcare — everything eats into your paycheck. An apartment in Toronto can cost more than a luxury home EMI in India.
Yes, you earn more, but you also pay more — financially, and often emotionally.
A World Bank study (2024) found that nearly 40% of new Indian immigrants reported “higher-than-expected financial strain” during their first two years abroad.
6. The Climate Hits Harder Than You Think
Winter Tips
( Image credit : Freepik )
The sun sets at 4 p.m., and with it, your energy. You start missing the warm chaos of Indian summers. The chill isn’t just in the air — it seeps into your mood.
You realize that weather, something you never cared about in India, can shape how you feel every single day.
7. You Keep Up the Illusion Because You Have To
Back home, everyone believes you’re living the dream. You post pictures of snow, sunsets, and cityscapes — but not of the loneliness. Because in India’s social script, coming home “defeated” feels shameful.
One immigrant put it bluntly in a Reddit expat forum:
“You can’t admit you’re unhappy. They’ll just say, ‘At least you’re abroad.’”
8. When You Come Back, You’re a Stranger in Both Worlds
In India
( Image credit : Freepik )
You’re not fully from “there” or “here.” You exist somewhere in between - fluent in both worlds, but belonging to neither.
It’s the unspoken truth of migration: once you leave, you never really return the same.
The Real Question Isn’t “Should You Leave?”, It’s “Why?”
Abroad, you may find order, opportunity, and freedom — but you’ll lose a little bit of warmth, spontaneity, and belonging.
In India, you may battle chaos, crowds, and endless noise — but you’ll never have to look far to find love, laughter, or someone who knows your story.
So maybe the question was never about where we live, but what makes us feel alive.
Because home isn’t just a pin on a map — it’s the place where your soul stops searching.