Guwahati’s rental paradox: A ‘progressive’ city that polices its tenants

Guwahati likes to call itself a progressive city. It is the showcase of Northeast India, where glass-fronted malls, cafés, and gated communities declare a break from the past. Yet for all its claims of modernity, the city falters in something very basic, how it treats those who rent its homes.

Scratch beneath the flyovers and multiplexes, and one finds a rental culture riddled with suspicion, stereotypes, and moral policing. Tenants whether students, young professionals, or families are not seen as equal citizens but as temporary outsiders who must be tolerated under watchful eyes. The gap between the city's progressive self-image and its treatment of tenants is a telling paradox.

Suspicion as a Norm: The very process of finding accommodation reveals how far dignity is from the equation. Questions about income and rent are secondary; what comes first are moral tests. Are you married? Do you have "family support" in the city? Do you keep late hours? Will friends visit? Young women face even more intrusive scrutiny, with landlords casually reducing them to stereotypes, that women from outside Guwahati come not to study or work, but "only for enjoyment."

Bachelors are automatically assumed to be irresponsible or noisy. Entire groups are dismissed with a single phrase: "no bachelors allowed." Even when tenants secure a house, the rules imposed often extend into the private domain, curfews, bans on visitors, restrictions on social life.

Behind these restrictions lies an implicit message: tenants cannot be trusted with autonomy.

Stereotypes and the Sociology of Control: This mistrust is not accidental; it is structured. Sociologist Erving Goffman described stigmatization as the process by which individuals are reduced to negative labels. In Guwahati, tenants are not seen as students or professionals shaping the city's future, but as "unreliable," "immoral," or "outsiders."

Pierre Bourdieu's notion of habitus, the ingrained habits and values of a society also explains this dynamic. Many landlords cling to a worldview in which the "ideal tenant" is a conventional family, preferably with a government job. Anyone outside that frame viz., single women, bachelors, young migrants appear threatening to the established moral order.

Urban theorist Henri Lefebvre reminds us that cities are not only spaces to live in but also arenas of control. Who can stay, under what conditions, and with which restrictions, reveals power hierarchies. In Guwahati, landlords use rent not just as an economic exchange but as a tool of moral governance.

The City's Contradiction: The irony is stark. Guwahati markets itself as cosmopolitan, aspiring to attract talent and investment. Yet, it erects barriers in the most intimate domain and that's housing. The very people whose labour, rent, and consumption sustain the city are simultaneously viewed as suspect.

Progress here seems to be about infrastructure, not about attitudes. The new flyovers may signal ambition, but the old anxieties of respectability and control continue to define everyday life. Guwahati's progress shines brightly on its skyline but dims quickly inside rented rooms.

This is not unique to Guwahati. Across Indian cities, tenants face discrimination based on gender, food habits, religion, or marital status. But Guwahati's case is sharper because it prides itself on being "different," more open, more inclusive. The reality on the ground suggests otherwise.

Dignity at Stake: At its core, this is not just a housing issue. It is about dignity. When tenants are subjected to moral policing, they are denied the right to live as autonomous individuals. Their private lives are turned into matters of scrutiny by those who happen to own property.

For women, these stereotypes carry an added weight, often intersecting with questions of character and respectability. For young men, suspicion alone is enough to close doors. For migrants from rural or ethnic minority backgrounds, the barriers multiply further. Such exclusions chip away at the democratic ethos of the city. A truly progressive city must recognize all its res-idents, not just those who fit an outdated moral template.

Towards Fairness and Inclusion: If Guwahati wants to live up to its progressive claim, its rental culture must change.

Codifying Rights: Clear tenant-landlord guidelines could prevent arbitrary restrictions and recognize tenants as legitimate residents, not temporary dependents.

Cultural Reorientation: Society needs to shed the suspicion that reduces tenants to stereotypes. The city's vibrancy comes from its migrants, students, and young workers, without them, the economy and culture would collapse.

Democratic Ethos: Respecting privacy and autonomy is not generosity; it is a democratic obligation. A tenant's right to dignity is as important as a landlord's right to rent.

Rethinking Progress: The way a city treats its tenants is a measure of its maturity. Guwahati cannot claim to be progressive if it denies dignity to those who make it run. Progress is not only measured in malls or flyovers but in everyday relationships of trust and fair-ness.

To continue stereotyping young women as frivolous or bachelors as irresponsible is to betray a fear of the new. Cities, however, thrive on the new-new ideas, new people, new ways of living. A city that polices its tenants' lives narrows its own future.

Guwahati has a choice. It can remain trapped in the contradiction of aspiring to cosmopolitanism while clinging to parochial control. Or it can embrace a genuinely inclusive urban culture, where tenants are seen not as outsiders but as co-builders of the city.

Until then, the city's progress will remain incomplete visible in its skyline but absent in its homes.

Alankar Kaushik