Ranjona Banerji: Pollution has no religion

Commuters drive through smog in New Delhi a day after Diwali. According to the weather office, respirable pollutants breached the 1,000-microgram mark in the Capital and shot up nearly 10 times above normal on Monday. Pic/AFP

How did you celebrate Diwali? Did you cower at home, trying to find some relief from the ear-splitting noise and the toxic air? Or were you out there with the strongest and the most patriotic, doing your divine duty by exploding the loudest firecrackers? Were you worried about the effect of all the 'festivities' on animals, children and the elderly, or did you dismiss all that as elitist and liberal nonsense as you sent up loud rockets - not made in China, of course, because you are a true nationalist after all!

Did it seem to you that every person criticising the air quality should be sent off pronto to Pakistan - which, as we know now, is the place where anyone who criticises anything someone else sees as anti "our" culture, has to be sent?

Of all the stupidest things to divide us, the way we celebrate Diwali is the latest and, by far, the most absurd. Various news reports have suggested that this Diwali, Delhi's air quality plunged to its worst in the last three years. Apparently, there were some areas in the Capital where visibility was reported to be zero, thanks to all the smog. North India is bad enough at this time of the year as there is very little wind. So, whatever rubbish permeates the air stays there through winter. Add to that the fact that harvest burning in neighbouring states pollutes Delhi's air too and this Diwali just made the environment a horrifying cocktail of bad air.

Mumbai, which has the 'sea advantage', also suffered, perhaps not as much as Delhi, but every pollution tracking agency put air quality in the Maximum City at the 'very poor' level as atmospheric inversion increases at this time of the year. The problem of toxic air has nothing to do with culture and attacking someone's sense of 'being Indian' or belonging to this religion or that. The issue needed to be handled with common sense. It is remarkable

indeed that anyone would even put forward that argument - but they have. It is true that in years gone by, we behaved differently. Fire-crackers were seen as an integral part of Diwali celebrations. I absolutely loved them. The smell of cordite that hangs in the air on Diwali smells more beautiful to me than Chanel No 5. But, so what? In fact, much to my horror, I learnt recently that my once fav­ourite 'snake' cracker is the most polluting of all. Mea culpa. Mea maxima culpa.

Things change, ideas change and people sometimes have to be forced to change. My minimal pleasure is definitely nothing compared to the damage being inflicted on countless others. Surely it's something worth taking into consideration? And there is enough evidence that fireworks are not in fact an integral part of Diwali celebrations, nor is it a festival of sound. It is a festival of light, it is a festival of money, it is a festival of the Goddess, it is a festival of seasons, it is a celebration of a new year - it is all things to all people. And it has been one of India's most 'secular' festivals because people across religions often participate in it.

The whining of the Hindutva-indoctrinated Indian has now made criticism of pollution an anti-Hindu activity. Is there any sense in that for the thinking person? Does the idea of religion and celebration have to be so narrow that it refuses to acknowledge there may be differing points of view and that there are some real problems with this kind of behaviour?

Apparently, if you complain about sound and noise pollution during Diwali, you must also (with the same emphasis) at the same time, complain about animal sacrifice during Bakri Eid and crop burning by farmers. Otherwise, you are a liberal, Westernised, pinko, anti-Hindu, ath­eist, pro-farmer, pro-Muslim hypocrite. Have I covered every bit of absurdity in this argument by the anti-people, anti-animal, anti-plant, anti-planet, Diwali noise and air pollution advocates?

Meanwhile, in the little Himalayan village where I live, winter is on its way in. No one wants to be out at night if they don't need to. No one, I have discovered, even wants to bot­her with clay diyas when electric lights will do. This year, the fireworks, light and sound, lasted about an hour and by 10 pm, there was only the occasional 'bomb'.
Maybe this cold weather is the revenge of the planet? I hope so!

Ranjona Banerji is a senior journalist. You can follow her on Twitter @ranjona Send your feedback to mailbag@mid-day.com