New Nepali migrants entering India’s labour market are typically 15–20 years old, though the overall median age is 35, according to Keshav Bashyal of Kathmandu’s Tribbuvan University. Joblessness and rising inequality drive migration, especially among the poor, rural and less educated, whose labour force participation is already low.

“Most come from poorer backgrounds, working in construction and religious sites in Uttarakhand, on farms in Punjab, in factories in Gujarat, and in hotels across Delhi and beyond,” Dr Bashyal told me.

This steady flow of young migrants feeds into a sizable, though largely invisible, workforce in India.

“Due to the open border, it is difficult to know the exact number of Nepali citizens working and living in India but is estimated to be around 1-1.5 million,” says Jeevan Sharma, a political anthropologist of South Asia at The University of Edinburgh.

Nepal’s reliance on its migrants is staggering.

In 2016-17, remittances made up over a quarter of Nepal’s GDP, and by 2024 they accounted for 27–30%. Over 70% of households receive them. Remittances now comprise a third of household income, up from 27% three decades ago. Most of this comes Nepali citizens working in the Gulf and Malaysia, with India contributing about a fifth. All this makes Nepal the world’s fourth most remittance-dependent country.

“Remittances from India go to the poorest households in Nepal although per capita remittance is much lower than what migrants going to the Gulf or Southeast Asia sent,” says Prof Sharma. “Without it, Nepal’s economy would suffer significantly.”

Yet, for all their economic importance, Nepali migrants in India often live precariously.

A 2017 study, external in Maharashtra found them squeezed into squalid shared rooms, with little sanitation, often facing discrimination at work and in clinics. Alcohol and tobacco use was high, and sexual health awareness was low. Social networks were found to be both lifeline and liability: they provided jobs, shelter and small loans, but reinforced dependence on a small group of people, restricting wider opportunities.

Another study in Delhi found Nepali migrants were “working for basic survival rather than improvement in their living standards”.

Take the case of Dhanraj Kathayat, a security guard in Mumbai. He arrived in India in 1988, a young man seeking work, and has since been winded through cities – Nagpur, Belgaum, Goa, Nasik – before settling in the western metropolis. He began driving but has spent the past 16 years guarding buildings, a job that offers some security but little upward mobility.

“I haven’t thought much about what’s happening back home,” he told me. “There’s so much joblessness in Nepal, even those with education find it difficult to find work. That’s why people like me had to leave.”

Mr Kathayat’s family remains in Nepal. He has two daughters and a son who are studying. In India, he continues to work as a security guard, just earning enough to be able to eat and send some money to his family, whom he sees only once in a year.

“After so many years, I haven’t had much development for myself. Some migrants have prospered – those who went to Korea, the US, or Malaysia. Not people like us.”