The Intersection of Faith and Housing
“Aap MUSALMAN hain…society allow nahi karegi”—a single sentence encapsulating a rejection based solely on religious identity. For many students venturing from their homes to pursue education and opportunities, the hurdles extend beyond academics or financial constraints. Often, the most formidable challenge is finding a place to live where their dignity is respected. For individuals like myself, Articles 14, 15, 21, and 25 of the Indian Constitution seem more theoretical than practical.
Secularism in Practice
India proudly identifies as a secular nation, but does this claim hold true in practice? In a country renowned for its cultural, linguistic, and religious diversity, is it justifiable that housing can be denied based on one’s faith? Is it reasonable that a person’s attire or religious identity obstructs their access to shelter? Does practicing a particular religion or wearing specific clothing render someone a societal “threat”?
This is not a narrative from a propaganda film or an exaggerated social media story. This is a reality experienced first-hand. As a law student, encountering such discrimination and the ensuing helplessness has been profoundly unsettling. It forces a critical question: if I cannot safeguard my own dignity and rights today, how will I support others in their quest for justice tomorrow?
Facing Discrimination: A Personal Account
One April night in 2025, an unexpected message appeared on my and my roommate’s phones: “Hi, as per the agreement, I am giving you 15 days’ notice to vacate the Paying Guest accommodation.” Taken aback, we sought explanations as we adhered to every rule. Initially, the only explanation we received was: “Sorry ma’am, society issue hai” (It’s a society issue).
After persistent inquiries, the real reason emerged: “Aap log MUSALMAN hain, aur aap mein se ek hijab pehenti hai, jisse society ko threat hai” (You are Muslims, and one of you wears a hijab, perceived as a threat to society). This realization was not an isolated incident confined to one PG. The arduous process of house hunting began anew, facing similar responses in about 70% of the places we approached. Sometimes, the rejection was direct; other times, it was veiled in comments like, “Agreement apne non-Muslim friend k naam pr bana lo madam” (Make the agreement in your non-Muslim friend’s name). Yet, the underlying message remained: our religious identity predetermined our acceptance.
Normalizing Prejudice
This incident starkly illustrates how deeply ingrained prejudice has become in everyday life. Years of polarized social and political discourse have normalized suspicion against certain identities, even in basic necessities like housing. In one of the world’s largest democracies, where pluralism and coexistence are foundational, individuals must still prove that their faith or appearance does not pose a danger.
The Indian Constitution ensures equality before law, prohibits discrimination based on religion, and guarantees freedom of religion. However, these guarantees often vanish when landlords or housing societies decide who belongs in their community.
Constitutional Promises vs. Reality
The Supreme Court, in Olga Tellis v. Bombay Municipal Corporation, recognized the right to shelter as integral to the right to life under Article 21. Yet, the reality for many is that securing even basic shelter hinges more on religion, identity, and appearance than on citizenry rights.
Data reflects this growing prejudice. A Pew Research Center study highlights the extent of religious exclusion, revealing that almost 45% of Hindus are unwilling to accept neighbors from certain religious communities, with 36% hesitant towards Muslims. Among Jains, 61% expressed reluctance to have neighbors from at least one religious group, with 54% specifically against Muslim neighbors.
Such attitudes transcend personal opinions, increasingly influencing housing access in urban India. In 2024, Rao Nadeem, a Muslim property dealer, experienced this firsthand when societal protests forced him to sell his home in a Hindu-majority area. This incident underscores how religious identity can determine acceptance into a community, irrespective of profession, character, or constitutional rights.
Beyond Legalities: A Call for Societal Change
Legal frameworks alone cannot eradicate prejudice; society must embrace diversity, inclusion, and coexistence. Schools, universities, media, and community spaces must actively promote conversations around constitutional values and mutual respect. Institutions welcoming diverse students must establish effective grievance mechanisms for those facing accommodation discrimination.
There is a pressing need for clearer legal protections against housing discrimination based on religion, caste, gender, language, or attire. Housing societies and landlords must be accountable for exclusions under vague terms like “society issue” or “unsuitable profile.” Byelaws should explicitly prohibit denying shelter based solely on religious identity or cultural practices.
Conclusion
Education is intended to empower, broaden horizons, and create equal opportunities. Yet, many students and professionals first confront battles not in classrooms or workplaces, but in proving their religion, name, or appearance poses no threat. In a nation that constitutionally guarantees equality and dignity, individuals can still be denied basic shelter because of their faith or attire.
The Indian Constitution does not require citizens to prove their “acceptability” to deserve rights. Articles 14, 15, 21, and 25 ensure equality, prohibit discrimination, guarantee religious freedom, and uphold the right to live with dignity. However, when housing societies and landlords determine societal “fit,” these promises lose significance for many.
The question is not whether India is constitutionally secular, but whether its citizens practice secularism daily—in classrooms, workplaces, neighborhoods, and rental agreements. A democracy thrives not just through ideals on paper but through choosing humanity over prejudice, coexistence over suspicion, and dignity over discrimination. Until then, equality remains more a constitutional promise than a lived reality.
Aiman Tabassum is pursuing a 3-year LL.B. from GJ Advani College of Law, University of Mumbai.
