Khammam to Dallas, Jhansi to Seattle — audacious journeys in the pursuit of the American dream after H-1B visa fee hike

But she knew the truth of US border control: “Ultimately, it’s the officer’s discretion. They could still deny me entry.”

She finally flew out and landed in the US at 4.30 pm on September 21.

The H-1B visa dates back to 1990, under the Immigration Act, and was designed to allow US employers to hire foreign professionals in “specialty occupations” as per the US Immigration and Nationality Act.

These are jobs requiring at least a Bachelor’s degree or equivalent, in fields such as technology, engineering, healthcare and academia, among others. Over the years, it has attracted the best of talent across fields.

Typically granted for an initial period of three years, which can be extended up to a maximum of six years, the H-1B is coveted because it is a “dual intent” visa — holders can apply for a green card while on the visa. Compared with the F-1 student visa or temporary permits, H-1B is the clearest stepping stone to a permanent resident status in the US.

There are as many as 730,000 H-1B holders in the US, and an additional 550,000 dependents, including spouses and children, who together make up nearly 1.3 million residents, according to a January 2025 report from fwd.us, an immigration and criminal justice advocacy group.

India dominates the H-1B pipeline. According to the US State Department’s annual visa statistics, Indians accounted for more than 70% of all H-1B visas petitions approved worldwide in FY 2022; China followed with about 12%. In 2000, about 31% of all H-1B holders in the US had a Master’s degree; by 2021, that share had climbed to 57%. The share with doctorates has ranged between 6% and 13%.

By occupation, computer-related jobs dominate: in 2023, 65% of approved H-1B workers were in IT fields, reporting a median salary of $123,600. The next largest field was architecture and engineering (9%), with a median salary of $115,000.

Until now, the cost for an H-1B ranged from about $1,700 to $4,500, depending on whether the visa was expedited. Each year, the US Congress caps H-1B visas at 85,000, awarded through a lottery system. To enter, companies pay a $215 registration fee, followed by thousands of dollars more in application fees and legal costs, if selected.

When announcing the new $100,000 fee, the White House claimed companies “misused visas to replace Americans with cheaper foreign labour”. This week, the officials, under a new proposal, stated that lottery would no longer be entirely random but a “weighted” draw that gives higher wage levels better odds.

H-1B is never cheap labour. If I hire a US citizen, technically I could pay them just minimum wage, around $20,000. But if I hire an H-1B, the Department of Labor sets the prevailing wage. For a software developer, it’s about $100,000… On top of that, there are filing fees of $2,500 to $10,000, plus lawyer costs.

Rahul ReddyImmigration attorney based in Houston

The Indian Express spoke to professionals — doctors, engineers, lawyers — for whom the H-1B opened doors to the US, and to better opportunities. But now, amid the initial chaos and the subsequent clarifications, the uncertainty weighs heavy. Their stories.

‘Everything we built would crumble’

That morning on September 19, as panic set in, she began calculating. The last US-bound flight from Hyderabad was at 9 pm — impossible, considering it was a six-hour drive from her home in Kothagudem, in Telangana’s Khammam district. Vijayawada airport, four hours away, was the only option.

The 38-year-old, a consultant with one of the top healthcare firms in the US, had to make it to Dallas as soon as she could — the Trump administration’s proclamation said anyone entering the country on an H-1B visa would have to pay $100,000.

She had not planned to return so soon. She had travelled to India for her father’s death anniversary; her return ticket was for September 27. Only weeks earlier, she had renewed her visa. “There was no sign, no clue, that such a proclamation was coming,” she says.

Her first instinct was to call her husband in Dallas, where they had built a home. “If I was barred, his future would be at stake too. Everything we built together would crumble.”

She was born and raised in Kothagudem. Her father, an orthopaedic doctor, wanted her to work in healthcare. After engineering, she longed to go to the US but it wasn’t until 2013, when she turned 26, that she decided it was now or never.

She landed in the US alone in August 2013 to pursue a Master’s in Management Engineering Technology at Pittsburg State University. He followed the next year.

There was no sign, no clue, that such a proclamation was coming. If I was barred (from returning to the US), my husband’s future would be at stake too… The experience has left me shaken.

Name withheldA consultant at Dallas-based healthcare firm who has been on H-1B since 2015

In 2015, she entered the H-1B lottery and was selected on her first attempt. After two years as a consultant for several smaller firms, she joined her current employer.

Her career took off. Starting at $140,000, she now earns $195,000. She bought a Texas home on a $450,000 mortgage, and a car. “If I lost my status, both of us would have to return to India, leaving behind everything,” she says.

The morning after the proclamation, she checked for flights back to the US. “Nothing was available. Finally, I found one to Austin with one seat left, nearly $2,000 — about Rs 1.65 lakh. Normally, I would think twice. Not this time.”

By afternoon, she was in a car to Vijayawada. On the road, she rehearsed answers to potential questions: “What is the purpose of your trip? Why are you entering now? How will you pay the fee? I prepared myself for every scenario, even deportation.”

On the Delhi flight, there were others like her. “A girl seated next to me called hers a ‘panic travel’. Another passenger said border officers might not implement the rule immediately. For the first time, I felt less alone.”

But on the connection to Doha, the in-flight Wi-Fi failed. “For four hours I sat in the dark, imagining what awaited me in Dallas: a demand for $100,000, a refusal of entry, my life in America unravelling.”
Relief came in Doha. Online, she learned the rule did not apply to people with valid visas. “I received a message from my attorney: ‘You’re safe to travel.’ Relief came like a flood.”

‘Tough… but if I have to go back, I will’

While panic continues over the recent H-1B proclamation, in Seattle, a 29-year-old software engineer says he is “chill”. “I know things will be sorted out in a month. I have a Diwali ticket booked for home; I haven’t rescheduled it.”

Behind the calm are commitments: a Rs-80 lakh home loan back in Jhansi, Uttar Pradesh; a $60,000 car loan in the US; and a family back home whose fortunes have only recently lifted.

He grew up in Jhansi, where his father worked as an LIC agent and ran a tailoring shop, and his mother managed the household. His younger sister is preparing for government exams.

He broke through to make it to IIT Kanpur, graduating in 2018. Months later, he joined a multinational company in Bengaluru.

By 2022, he was transferred to the company’s Seattle office on an L-1 visa. “With an L-1, if you get fired or you leave the job, you have to come back to India. You can’t take up a government job or move to another firm. But H-1B is more flexible. You can move jobs,” he says, explaining why he applied for the H-1B lottery in 2023. He moved to H-1B status in October that year.

Living in Seattle, he sees a difference between those who arrive on work transfers like him and those who come on student visas. “These are two worlds,” he says. “Master’s students have loans, pressure to get an H-1B. For people like us, who have already worked in India, it’s different. We didn’t come here thinking everything is at stake.”

He earns about $250,000 a year at his company, though stock fluctuations swing that number. “Last year, I took a salary of more than $350,000. But my next year’s forecast is again $250,000. Big companies try to keep it around that figure when you move from India to the US,” he says.

The salary supports his Seattle life and the home his family now owns in Jhansi.

On the panic that Trump’s proclamation triggered, he says, “Every country wants to favour its own citizens. Of course, it’s tough for us… it’s precarious at every step. But I’m practical about it. If I have to go back, I will. If I stay, I will continue here,” he says.

‘Precarious… Sit tight wherever you are’

For the 25-year-old, a lawyer in Seattle, the Trump administration’s bombshell of a proclamation triggered a personal crisis.

A corporate counsel in Seattle, his name was picked in the H-1B lottery in March, but the petition is still pending with the US Citizenship and Immigration Services.

Which is why, in the chaos that followed the proclamation, he took a few hard calls. For one, he would skip his best friend’s wedding, for which he had planned to travel to India in December.

His family in Rajasthan — his father, a farmer and small shopkeeper in Sanchore tehsil of Jalore district, his mother, and three sisters — depends almost entirely on his salary. If the proclamation were applied to him, it would jeopardise not just his career but the lifeline that stretches from Sanchore to Washington.

“Ours is a lower middle class family,” he explains. “Right now, I help with all the finances for the family. I can’t afford to lose what I have. I have been strongly advised against making any travel plan until the situation is clear,” he says on the phone from Seattle.

After a law degree from Ahmedabad’s Nirma University, he spent two years litigating in Delhi at the Supreme Court and the Delhi High Court. “While I was practising, I was also exploring options for my Master’s,” he recalls.

In 2023, he got a coveted scholarship at Seattle University, with his tuition fee fully covered. He arrived in Seattle in August 2023 and graduated the following May.

After a brief stint working as a paralegal at a tech start-up, he qualified for the Washington State Bar in May 2024 and now works as a corporate counsel. “I never thought I would come to the US. It was just a good opportunity and I was able to grab it at the right time,” he says.

After graduation, he had just one year of OPT — optional practical training, where students practise with firms.

After a nerve-wracking wait, in March this year, his name was picked in the lottery. But his petition is still pending with the US Citizenship and Immigration Services. The timing of the proclamation has only heightened his anxiety.

“It’s creating an environment of chaos all around,” he says. “Even after all the clarifications, the situation is still unclear. What if someone applies right now, their application is pending, and they want to travel abroad? What’s their status?”

Asked what is at stake, he says, “I can’t say anything about the future. The situation is precarious. The best thing to do is to sit tight wherever you are and watch what happens.”

‘I was lucky… my skills set me apart’

After 12 years in the US, the 52-year-old, a dentist in Dallas, his wife and their younger son finally got their green cards three months ago. “I was on an H-1B visa for 10 years. It took me 12 years to get my status changed,” he says.

But the milestone was bittersweet. While his younger son, 20, qualified for permanent residency as a dependent, his elder son, now 23, did not. He had “aged out” of the system at 21 and was left behind in the immigration queue. “He missed out on getting his green card. We were hoping he could shift to H-1B after getting a job. But now it’s all uncertain. We moved as a family. We struggled a lot, but we struggled together,” he says.

On his journey to the US after he turned 40, he says, “It was a midlife crisis. There was no dream or anything. All my family, including my parents, brothers, sisters, my wife’s parents, had moved to the US. I was the only one left in India.”

He gave up his private practice in Delhi, enrolled in a US residency program in Denver, and started again. “We struggled, yes. But I was lucky that I had the skills which set me apart from my competitors. I was able to get good jobs and make a good life,” he says.

Those skills placed him in a very different category from the mass of Indian tech workers whose reliance on outsourcing firms has shaped debates around the H-1B program. “In medicine, whether you are Indian or American, the money is the same,” he explains. “If you are a good dentist, you can earn half a million dollars a year. Even an average dentist makes two to three hundred thousand dollars.”

Looking back, he believes he was luckier. “I got my H-1B instantly. But now, yes, the atmosphere is uncertain. Nobody knows what is going to happen. Some of these changes will be rolled back, some will face legal challenges. But right now, there is more uncertainty for sure.”

He blames the crisis on the tech industry. “They misuse the H-1B visa to get cheap labour instead of highly qualified labour. What the government is saying is absolutely true. I have seen it for myself,” he insists, while seeking to draw a distinction between H-1Bs in medicine, law and accounting, and those in tech. “They are very different. They cannot be compared.”

He is worried for his elder son, who came to America as a child, but now faces an uncertain future. “He will have to develop high skills and get an H-1B,” he says.