Lindsay Pereira: Festivals are bigger than rules

If asked about the significance of this festival, or where it says that Gods and Goddesses will be appeased only if we set off fireworks imported from China, they won't have no answer. Pic/AFP

A few days from now, residents of my locality will lose sleep. This happens regularly, whenever a festival raises its head. It used to be just major festivals a few years ago but, recently, a few people in my neighbourhood feel the inexplicable need to celebrate the most obscure festivals with gusto.

Naturally, this being a country where religion is always more important than humanity, these celebrations involve an enormous amount of noise. It's as if our spirituality is now directly proportionate to our ability to raise the roof.

A couple of weeks ago, for instance, my neighbourhood Navratri celebrations began with the chanting of shlokas via loudspeakers at noon. No one was actually paying attention, simply because no one in my locality speaks Sanskrit, but that didn't deter someone from enthusiastically playing the shlokas loudly for hours anyway. As the sun set, the shlokas gave way to a live discourse, starring a man who made as little sense as an elephant on heroin would, if placed before a microphone. No one paid attention again, because we all have access to satellite television, but that didn't stop him from discussing what could very well be a recipe for baingan bharta for all we knew.

By 8 pm, the desultory traditional music began, to remind everyone that this was supposed to be a religious event. It promptly ended by 8.30 pm though, because that is when a DJ switched to Bollywood remixes and the song Zingat, which was played a record seven times. The purpose of the festival was quickly forgotten as the graceful garba gave way to the pelvic thrusts that now masquerade as dancing in our corner of the world.

And so, a few days from now, it will happen again. A few people in my neighbourhood will take it upon themselves to set off fireworks at 5 am, to remind us all that another festival is upon us. If asked about the significance of this festival, or where it says that Gods and Goddesses will be appeased only if we set off fireworks imported from China, they won't have no answer.

These enthusiastic folk will ignore the pleas of senior citizens, forget about the fact that dogs have acute senses that make them more sensitive to the sounds and odours emitted by fireworks than human beings are, and continue polluting the air with abandon, safe in the knowledge that they live in a country that sits back and watches while laws are broken with impunity.

Make no mistake about the laws being broken in this case. In 1884, the Explosives Act reportedly laid down rules about the storage of fireworks - rules broken by every single stall outside every railway station today. The Explosives Rules of 2008 added to this, listing specific storage areas as well as the kind of containers in which firecrackers were to be held. Noise standards were prescribed in 1999, keeping in mind the Environment Protection Act of 1986. The Supreme Court stepped in soon after and banned the use of fireworks between 10 pm and 6 am. Now, think about this and see if you can remember the last time someone in your neighbourhood followed any of these guidelines.

Most countries restrict the use of fireworks unless they are set off in a controlled environment. India, on the other hand, makes possible scenarios such as the tragedy that engulfed the Puttingal Devi Temple south of Kollam in April this year, when a stack of fireworks exploded at 3.30 am, killing over 100 people, maiming and injuring 400 others, and damaging buildings nearby.

Just two months before this, a massive fire broke out at a Make In India event in Bombay, supposedly because fireworks kept beneath the stage came in contact with inflammable material kept on the stage. In 2012, a factory explosion at Sivakasi killed 40 and injured. The factory didn't even have a valid licence.

None of these facts and figures matter, of course. There are few arrests, and no one to document the stress, hearing loss or damage to our respiratory organs. After all, if the death of a few hundred Indians were enough to bring about serious law enforcement, our roads and railways would have been safer decades ago.

I assume a few hundred more lives must be lost before the government decides to step in. Until that happens, our leaders will focus on more important issues, such as the renaming of our streets.

When he isn't ranting about all things Mumbai, Lindsay Pereira can be almost sweet. He tweets @lindsaypereira. Send your feedback to mailbag@mid-day.com