In India, love is a privilege. When OYO launched in the early 2010s, it challenged this exclusivity and democratised access to private spaces for a burgeoning young population. Vulnerable couples could finally find a safe place to be with their partners. All they needed was a valid ID, and OYO openly declared: there will be no rule barring unmarried couples from spending time together. It was a groundbreaking moment for young love in the country.
Today, OYO’s apparent policy shift—starting in Meerut, where the company has reportedly decided to bar unmarried couples—is both a betrayal of its young clientele and a treacherous denial of its founding ethos. Earlier this week, PTI reported that OYO, after consulting with civil society groups, decided not to allow unmarried couples at its properties in Meerut. The company could extend this policy to other cities.
This move goes against the brand’s identity. It’s like Cadbury announcing they will stop making chocolates or Jio deciding to charge Rs 100 per GB for data. What is OYO if not a destination where love can flow freely, safely, and fully (after checking for hidden CCTVs, of course).
As a brand, OYO was never designed as a family hotel—and that’s perfectly fine. By bringing smaller budget hotels under its banner and putting in place SOPs for providing basic amenities like soap, dental kits, fresh towels, and a cleaner look, Ritesh Agarwal revolutionised India’s budget hospitality industry and became a billionaire in the process.
For the modern lover in 21st-century India, OYO was a breakthrough. In a country where even holding hands can invite hostile stares, OYO provided privacy for as little as Rs 1,000, with the promise that its staff had received sensitisation training.
Also read: Love after Covid – Delhi couples throng monuments, from Sunder Nursery to Qutub Minar
No place for love
Payal Kapadia’s All We Imagine As Light offers an intimate portrayal of the lack of space for love in the city. A young interfaith couple struggles to find private spaces to be close to each other, so they pay off guards in parking lots or search for secluded corners near public parks to express their love.
Vulnerable young people seek such hidden, half-empty corners to connect with each other, a choice that can be fraught with danger—especially in today’s socio-political climate of moral policing. Interfaith and intercaste couples are even more vulnerable to this judgmental glare.
This is a common experience for many young couples in India. It’s shocking that while we are a nation of over a billion people, we remain prudishly shy about sex and fail to provide safe spaces for couples to share intimacy.
What happens behind the closed doors of a hotel room is nobody’s business. But we have vigilante groups that roam the streets and parks hounding and harassing couples as a full-time hobby, with no better way to spend their jobless days and hours.
In such a climate, OYO’s business model was a relief—but the party seems to be over now. And for what? The company says its new check-in policy for partner hotels in Meerut follows “local social sensibility”. So OYO is pandering to a society growing more orthodox, rigid, and intolerant. Twenty-five years into the 21st century, one would expect hotel chains to announce LGBTQ+ friendly policies, but we take two steps forward and one step back.
One hopes this nonsense will remain confined to the geographical boundaries of Meerut and that other cities will advocate for more intimate spaces. Although, it seems unlikely. We live under constant radar of vigilante groups trying to impose their conservative social codes. OYO’s change of heart toward young love in India is bending a knee to this conservatism.
Views are personal.
(Edited by Prashant)
Freedom of speech, freedom to eat, freedom to love, freedom to live is gone in new regime …..
I am always willing to take you to OYO, Ms. Misra. No matter what policies they might have, I have sufficient contacts to get us through.
Will you be kind enough to agree, just for once?
It feels good to see that some people are openly, and quite shamelessly, admitting that they will miss the “OYO waala pyaar”. What is even more interesting is that a reputed publication like The Print is providing them with a platform to air their “grievances”.
For us, OYO meant only one thing. No respectable family ever put up in an OYO hotel. OYOs were the hub of all sorts of shady people involved in all kinds of shady businesses.
But yes, one can understand Ms. Misra’s disappointment at missing out on the “OYO waala love”.
True. Those were really good times. Pretty much everyone that I know of used to indulge in “OYO waala pyaar”.
Of course, it was just sex and nothing else. OYO gave us the space to do it and experiment and also mature sexually.
Nowadays, people pine for “true love” and I keep wondering what that really means. For me, there’s only one kind of love – OYO waala pyaar.