On the day domestic LPG prices were raised by Rs 50, the increase felt anything but small for a large number of city housewives, who have been battling rising living costs. Every extra expense only adds to the daily stress of keeping their kitchen stoves burning.
In homes where a single income supports an entire family, there’s no room for error. “My husband works nonstop, and we still don’t save a paisa,” says Ragini Upadhyay from Semra. Her husband, Anupam Mishra, supports not just her but also his sister and grandparents. “Rs 5,000 goes into medicines every month. He’s also saving for his sister’s wedding. We haven’t even planned a child yet — we just can’t afford it.”
The Petroleum Ministry claims that oil companies have lost Rs 41,000 crore, prompting the hike. Yet the move comes at a time when global crude oil prices are at a four-year low. While commercial LPG cylinders saw a price drop of Rs 41 on April 1, it brings little relief to middle-class kitchens.
Though the government subsidises LPG costs for those living below the poverty line, the benefits are not always available to the urban poor as they lack the paperwork to claim the benefit.
At Jehangirabad, Menaka, 35, shares her struggle: “Feeding my school-going kids costs over Rs 200 a day — just for basic meals. Juice is a luxury. Tea, milk, soap — everything has become expensive. Every rupee feels like a sacrifice.”
Outside Gate No 2 of Hamidia Hospital, an elderly couple waits silently. “We pay taxes on everything, yet the government keeps raising prices,” they say. “We used our retirement money to buy a house and marry off our son. Now, he supports us. He never complains, but we see his pain. Every evening, he returns with slumped shoulders. Sometimes, we think of going to an old-age home — just to ease his burden.” They withhold their names, fearing their son may find out.
At Piplani Kachhi Basti, Savitri Prajapati, wife of a daily wage painter, says her husband earns Rs 400 a day. “We live in a rented house with our three daughters and my mother-in-law. Inflation is killing us. The LPG hike is just one more blow. Vegetables, flour, milk, school fees — it’s a daily fight. If he misses a day of work, there’s no food.”
Lata Yadav’s husband works as a security guard at a private school and earns Rs 13,500 a month. “We’re five people at home — his father, our two kids, and us. Getting a gas cylinder filled feels like a festival — it happens once a month, thanks to the Ujjwala subsidy. The rest of the time, we use an induction stove, which adds to our electricity bill. Dal is Rs 120, milk Rs 60. Medicines eat up what little we have. Sometimes we send the kids to school, sometimes we just can’t.”
At Kaziq Camp, Razia Khan, 29, lives in a single rented room with her e-rickshaw driver husband and two children. They earn about Rs 15,000 a month. “Some days, I send my kids to school with just a slice of bread and mango pickle. Cooking oil, tea leaves, even soap — everything costs more. We’ve already borrowed from everywhere. There’s no one left to turn to.”
Anita Parmar, 38, a sanitation worker and widow, lives in her own small home in Danish Nagar with her three children and diabetic mother-in-law. “Earlier, we managed on Rs 9,000. Now even Rs 15,000 isn’t enough. Gas, electricity, groceries — everything is choking us. After my husband died, life kept getting harder. Buying a saree for myself now feels like a sin.”
In the same locality, Madhuri Rawat lives in a joint family of seven. Her tempo-driver husband earns around Rs 16,000 to Rs 18,000 a month. “We’re always cutting back — skipping vegetables, milk, or delaying the kids’ school fees. This inflation has turned us into survival experts. LPG, petrol, groceries — every day is a new battle.”
