On a recent afternoon outside a library in Kashmir, a brief exchange between a student preparing for one of India’s most competitive examinations and three migrant balloon sellers from Rajasthan offered a quiet illustration of the economic realities that continue to drive internal migration across the country.

The scene unfolded near the library entrance, where three young men sat beside a cluster of balloons they were attempting to sell. Their presence was not unusual. Seasonal and temporary migration from economically vulnerable regions to other parts of India remains a common livelihood strategy for thousands of families seeking work opportunities unavailable in their home districts.

Among those leaving the library that day was Fawad, a student preparing for the National Eligibility cum Entrance Test (NEET), the entrance examination for medical education in India. According to witnesses present at the scene, Fawad paused after noticing the three balloon sellers and began speaking with them.

The conversation initially appeared routine. Fawad asked the young men where they had come from and how long they had been in Kashmir. The sellers responded that they had travelled from Rajasthan in search of income opportunities. They described economic hardship, limited resources and difficult living conditions as factors that had pushed them to leave home and seek work elsewhere.

The interaction drew attention because Fawad showed interest in their circumstances beyond a simple commercial transaction. Although he had no apparent need for balloons, he asked to purchase three of them. Witnesses said he paid more than the asking price and encouraged the young men to use the additional money to buy food.

From a purely financial perspective, the amount involved was modest. Yet the exchange highlighted a larger question about how individuals respond to visible signs of economic vulnerability in public spaces.

After the sellers left, an observer who had watched the interaction asked Fawad why he felt compelled to help strangers he did not know.His response was measured rather than sentimental.

“I am relatively well off,” he said. “I can skip one meal. They struggle for every meal. The matter is not always hunger.”

The remark shifted the discussion away from charity alone and toward a broader consideration of economic insecurity. For many informal workers, particularly migrants engaged in street vending and seasonal employment, the challenge extends beyond immediate food needs. Income uncertainty affects access to shelter, healthcare, education and social mobility. Small disruptions in earnings can have disproportionate consequences.

India’s internal migration patterns have long reflected these realities. Workers frequently move across states in search of seasonal employment in construction, agriculture, tourism, retail trade and informal services. Street vending, including the sale of balloons, toys and other low-cost items, often requires little capital investment but offers highly unpredictable earnings.

Daily income can depend on weather conditions, tourist activity, local demand and competition.The encounter in Kashmir illustrated these dynamics at an individual level. The three balloon sellers were not engaged in a formal employment arrangement. Their livelihood depended on persuading passers-by to purchase inexpensive products, making every interaction a potential source of income.

The image of brightly coloured balloons against the backdrop of economic hardship also carries a symbolic dimension that has long appeared in South Asian literature and poetry.

Balloons are often associated with celebration, childhood and temporary joy.

Yet their existence is inherently fragile, lasting only as long as the air within them remains contained.

That contrast finds resonance in a famous couplet by the eighteenth-century Urdu poet Mir Taqi Mir:

“Hasti apni hubab ki si hai,

Ye numaish saraab ki si hai.”

A commonly accepted English rendering is:

“Our existence is like a bubble;This spectacle of life is like a mirage.”

The couplet reflects Mir’s recurring meditation on impermanence. A bubble appears briefly before disappearing. A mirage seems real from a distance but vanishes upon closer examination. Together, the images suggest the transient nature of worldly status, possessions and human circumstances.

Viewed through that lens, the encounter between the student and the balloon sellers acquires a wider significance. The balloons themselves become a metaphor for lives shaped by uncertainty. Economic security, educational opportunity and social standing often appear stable, yet they can be fragile and unevenly distributed.

Fawad’s decision to buy three balloons did not alter the structural conditions that had brought the sellers from Rajasthan to Kashmir. Nor did it address the broader economic factors influencing migration and informal labour. What it did reveal was an awareness of the asymmetry between those who can absorb temporary hardship and those whose daily survival depends on continuous earnings.

The transaction lasted only a few minutes. The balloons changed hands, a small amount of money was exchanged, and the sellers continued on their route. Yet the conversation that accompanied the purchase left a stronger impression than the sale itself.

In public discussions about poverty, attention often focuses on statistics, government programmes and economic indicators. Those measures remain essential for understanding the scale of deprivation. At the same time, individual encounters continue to shape how people perceive inequality in everyday life.

Outside the library that day, three migrant balloon sellers were attempting to earn a living far from home. A student preparing for a future in medicine paused long enough to ask where they had come from and why.

The answers were simple: poverty, migration and the search for opportunity. The response was equally simple: the purchase of three balloons and a recognition that need is not measured solely by hunger, but also by the human desire to be seen.

Before sunrise each day, 26-year-old Astha Chhetri begins work on her online secondhand clothing business by reviewing supplier lists, checking shipping updates and preparing inventory for sale on social media.By evening, she is still working, photographing garments, uploading promotional videos and responding to customer inquiries through Instagram and messaging applications.

What began as a side business while employed at a low-paying call centre has now become her primary source of income.“I was not enjoying my job, neither mentally nor financially,” Chhetri said. “I wanted to build something of my own.”Across India, a growing number of young people are entering the secondhand and vintage clothing trade as economic pressures, unemployment and social media platforms reshape informal retail markets.

Many sellers operate independently through Instagram, WhatsApp and online marketplaces, sourcing clothing from wholesalers and street markets before reselling items directly to consumers.India’s secondhand clothing market is estimated to be worth approximately ₹33,000 crore annually, driven largely by younger consumers seeking affordable and distinctive fashion options.

Buyers are typically students and early-career professionals navigating rising living costs and limited disposable income.“I love browsing Instagram for unique hoodies and tees,” said Ananya Khan, a 21-year-old college student in Delhi. “I usually spend ₹800-₹1,500 per item.”The expansion of resale fashion coincides with persistent employment challenges among young Indians.

According to India’s Periodic Labour Force Survey, roughly 10% of people aged between 15 and 29 were unemployed in 2025.For many participants, online thrift retail offers lower barriers to entry than formal employment or traditional business ownership. Startup costs are relatively limited, working hours are flexible and payments can be received immediately through digital transaction systems.

Vishu Roy, 22, operates a thrift store near Sarojini Nagar Market, one of the capital’s best-known clothing markets. He said the business started informally using modest savings and family assistance.“I started with just ₹5,000-₹10,000 in savings from part-time work and family help,” Roy said. “I saw people buying old clothes in markets and realised they could be resold. Now, it is my main income.”Roy initially sold clothing online before opening a small retail outlet.

He now spends much of the day managing social media engagement, uploading short-form videos, responding to customers and tracking deliveries.“I always check his Instagram drops first thing,” said Rohan, a 23-year-old digital marketing assistant who purchases vintage clothing online.

“Sometimes I even wait to snag rare pieces before they sell out.”Roy said maintaining visibility on social media platforms is critical for survival in the business.“If you stop posting, you disappear,” he said. “Consistency is everything in this business.”Most independent thrift sellers manage every stage of operations themselves, including sourcing, photography, marketing, customer service and logistics.

While the business can generate strong returns during periods of high demand, sellers say income remains inconsistent and heavily dependent on platform algorithms and consumer trends.“Some months are great, others slow,” Roy said.

“But it is still better than waiting for a job that doesn’t come.”Instagram has become particularly important within India’s resale clothing market, allowing sellers to advertise directly to customers nationwide without physical storefronts. However, dependence on digital platforms also creates vulnerabilities. Sellers say changes in visibility, account reach or online engagement can quickly affect revenues.

“Around 70% of my sales come from Instagram,” Chhetri said. “If reach drops, sales drop too. One bad week on the algorithm can hurt the whole month.”Despite the growth of online sales, Delhi’s street markets remain central to the supply chain. Markets including Sarojini Nagar and Janpath Market serve as sourcing hubs where traders purchase export surplus garments, factory rejects and unsold inventory for resale online.

Abhin Bougia, 22, from Jammu, entered the business in 2021 alongside his cousin using ₹1,000 in initial capital.“We started from nothing,” Bougia said. “We bought a few pieces, took photos, posted them on Instagram and WhatsApp and called it our first ‘drop’. That’s how it began.”Bougia said revenues fluctuate sharply depending on inventory and consumer demand.“Once, I made ₹35,000 in a single day,” he said.

“But sometimes, clothes take months to sell.”Unsold inventory remains one of the largest financial risks for independent resellers. Sellers often purchase items without guarantees they will attract buyers online.“Sometimes you buy stock for ₹1,500 and can’t sell it at all,” Bougia said. “If it doesn’t move, you are stuck with dead stock.”Market vendors in Delhi say the growing resale trend has increased demand for surplus and export-quality garments among younger traders.

“People come early in the morning, pick the best pieces and sell them online later at three times the price,” said Adarsh Kumar, a market trader.Much of the inventory originates from export-surplus supply chains, where garments originally produced for overseas brands enter informal domestic markets through wholesalers and distributors.

Roy said he has also begun importing some inventory directly from suppliers in China and Bangladesh.“Surplus are factory rejects that may have a small defect, or cancelled order,” Roy said. “Thrifted pieces are part of export consignments. Most people don’t know the difference, but it matters for quality and price.”For Chhetri, sourcing remains both the largest operational expense and the greatest commercial risk.

“I import clothes from abroad and pay customs and shipping,” she said. “Sometimes I even hire a local guide when sourcing overseas. It is a detailed and expensive process.”Economists say the rise of informal resale businesses reflects broader structural pressures in India’s labour market rather than a shift toward stable entrepreneurship.

Arup Mitra, an economics professor at South Asian University, said many young people turn to such work because formal employment opportunities remain limited.“This is not a gainful activity,” Mitra said. “Young people turn to such ventures only when other productive avenues are unavailable.”Sellers also report increasing exposure to fraud, payment disputes and unreliable customers.

Bougia said fake digital payment confirmations and fraudulent transactions are common risks in the online resale market.“People send fake UPI screenshots,” he said. “You have to check your account before trusting anyone.”Despite the growing marketing emphasis on sustainability and circular fashion, several sellers said environmental concerns are not the main factor driving purchases.

“People buy for style, not the planet,” Chhetri said.Roy, who specialises in vintage band T-shirts, said consumer demand is still primarily fashion-driven.“It’s mostly about fashion,” he said. “Sustainability comes later, if at all.”Late each evening, Roy continues responding to customer messages involving pricing, sizing and delivery details while preparing new promotional videos for the following day’s sales cycle.

“There is no certainty,” Chhetri said. “Every day is different, some good, some bad. But for now, it works.”

Child labour continues to persist across multiple sectors despite existing legal frameworks prohibiting its practice, with field reports indicating that economic pressure, weak enforcement and informal employment structures are sustaining its prevalence.

According to practitioners working with vulnerable communities, children are still engaged in labour across agriculture, small-scale manufacturing, domestic work and street-based activities.

They said the problem is particularly acute in informal sectors, where regulation is limited and oversight mechanisms are difficult to enforce.Child rights advocates reported that many families rely on supplementary income generated by children to cope with rising living costs.

They indicated that this economic dependence often leads to children entering the workforce at an early age, sometimes at the expense of their education and well-being. In such cases, work is frequently normalised within households as a necessary survival strategy.

Labour experts noted that while national legislation prohibits hazardous and exploitative child labour, implementation remains inconsistent. They said enforcement agencies are often understaffed and face challenges in identifying violations, particularly in remote or unregulated environments.

In addition, they indicated that legal provisions are sometimes undermined by gaps in monitoring and reporting systems.Field organisations working in urban and rural areas reported that children are commonly found working long hours in conditions that expose them to physical and psychological risks.

They said these include handling heavy loads, exposure to harmful substances and working in unsafe environments without protective measures. In many instances, children are also said to face verbal abuse or exploitation, with limited access to grievance mechanisms.

Education specialists highlighted a strong correlation between child labour and school dropout rates. They reported that children engaged in work often struggle to attend school regularly or complete assignments, leading to early disengagement from formal education.

This, they said, reinforces cycles of poverty by limiting future employment opportunities.Some practitioners observed that migration and displacement are contributing factors.

They said families relocating in search of work may lack access to social services, increasing the likelihood of children entering labour markets. In such contexts, children are often employed in low-paid, informal roles where their age makes them more vulnerable to exploitation.

Stakeholders also pointed to the role of supply chains in sustaining demand for cheap labour. They said small businesses and subcontractors may employ children to reduce costs, particularly in industries where profit margins are narrow.

Without adequate traceability, they added, such practices can remain hidden within broader production networks.Government officials have maintained that policy measures are in place to address the issue, including rehabilitation programmes and awareness campaigns.

However, observers said the scale of implementation varies significantly across regions, with some areas lacking the resources needed to deliver effective interventions.Non-governmental organisations reported that rescue and rehabilitation efforts face logistical and social challenges.

They said that even when children are withdrawn from labour, reintegration into education systems is not always straightforward. Families may continue to face financial hardship, increasing the risk of children returning to work.

Experts emphasised the importance of addressing root causes, including poverty, limited access to quality education and social protection gaps. They said that without comprehensive strategies targeting these underlying factors, enforcement alone is unlikely to eliminate child labour.

They further indicated that greater coordination between government agencies, civil society and private sector actors is required to strengthen monitoring and accountability. Improved data collection and reporting mechanisms were also identified as critical to understanding the scale and nature of the problem.

Practitioners stressed that child labour is evolving in response to economic and social changes. They said that as enforcement increases in formal sectors, the practice may shift into less regulated spaces, making it harder to detect.

This trend, they warned, requires adaptive policy responses and sustained attention from authorities.

Field reports suggest that while legal frameworks provide a foundation for addressing child labour, gaps in enforcement, economic pressures and structural inequalities continue to limit their effectiveness.