The numbers are brutal. The Indian rupee has shed nearly 12% of its value against the dollar since January. Inflation in Britain is eroding household budgets. And a wave of visa restrictions across the West is slamming shut the door for thousands of Indian students. The result: a growing number are abandoning plans to study abroad, with some even returning home mid-course.
For years, the flow of Indian students to the UK, US, Canada and Australia was a one-way street. Ambitious, often from middle-class families, they saw an overseas degree as a ticket to a better life. But that narrative is cracking. The cost of tuition and living in dollars or pounds has skyrocketed. A £30,000 course now costs nearly 30 lakh rupees more than it did a year ago. Parents are remortgaging homes, drawing down retirement funds, taking out loans at punishing interest rates just to keep their children afloat.
Then came the visa crackdowns. Canada, once the most welcoming destination, capped study permits and tightened work rights. Australia raised English language requirements and reduced post-study work visas. The UK, under Rishi Sunak, pulled the rug from under the graduate route, making it harder to stay after graduation. The message from Westminster, Ottawa and Canberra is clear: we don't want you to settle here. For Indian students, the promise of a premium education was always tied to the prospect of working and eventually gaining residency. Now that link is broken.
I spoke to a source at a top UK university who described a 'palpable sense of panic' among Indian applicants. 'They're asking for refunds on deposits, deferring, even withdrawing,' they said. 'We're seeing a 20% drop in Indian enrolments for the September intake.' The same story is emerging from Canada, where some colleges are scrambling to fill places. Australian universities are bracing for a similar shock.
But the real story is the human toll. Take Rohan, 23, from Mumbai. He flew to London last September with dreams of a master's in finance. By January, his parents' savings had been wiped out by the sliding rupee. He took a part-time job at a restaurant, but a visa rule change limiting work hours forced him to quit. He is now back in Mumbai, trying to piece together a career. 'I feel like a failure,' he told me. He is one of many.
The political implications are significant. Education is India's second biggest export earner after IT services, contributing £10 billion annually to the UK economy alone. A drop in Indian students means lost revenue for universities, fewer skilled migrants for host economies and a blow to soft power. The Indian government is watching nervously. New Delhi has long relied on the diaspora to send remittances and build ties. Now it fears a brain waste scenario, where students stay put and domestic institutions struggle to absorb them.
Downing Street, for its part, is under pressure from Conservative hardliners to cut net migration further. The Home Office is considering new restrictions on dependant visas, a move that would hit Indian students hardest. Education sector chiefs are lobbying hard, warning that the golden goose is being killed. But the political calculus favours pleasing the base. Expect more turbulence.
For Indian students, the equation has changed. The dream is no longer a sure thing. And the decision to go abroad now looks like a risky gamble, not a guaranteed path to success. The fallout will be felt for years.
