It's a polluted world.
It's a polluted world. It's largely our doing. Concerted campaigns have made us aware of the facts. Toxic painted Ganesha murthisu00a0 clogging lakes. Fish floating belly side up. Encroachments on stormwater drains collapsing on their illegal foundations. Processions blocking roads. Automobile fumes choking everybody to tears.
Now we must brace ourselves for Diwali 'the Festival of Lights'. With it's collateral pollution hazards Choke... splutter... exploding crackers... bursting eardrums... and smoke. But is there anything we can really do about it?
In the 1950s, cigarette smoking was considered cool. Smokers took non-smokers for granted. At most, smokers would casually ask, cigarette in mouth,u00a0 lighter in hand "You don't mind if I smoke, do you?"
"No..." retorted one lady, I remember, "and you don't mind if I don't smoke, do you?" she continued as she moved into another room. Another passive resister gave no answer. The question was repeated... The victim replied "I heard you before." That was all! Non-plussed the smoker retreated to the garden, to pollute a different part of the atmosphere. It became inescapably established that smoking was hazardous to active and passive smokers alike. That it was 'uncool' to die of cancer, to beget offspring with deformities by smoking near a pregnant mother and by the 1990s nicotine was finally on its villainous way out! I wish we could do something similar tou00a0 restrain the excesses of Diwali celebrations in Bengaluru.
"Holy Smoke!" exclaimed a visiting friend from Boston, last year. "Aren't there any rules and regulations limiting public hazards, noise levels and pollution?" "No!" I replied, my eyes still watering with the beautiful but acrid, deadly fumes.
Diwali is not a new age phenomenon. It was charming when a few thousand middle-class families with limited middle class incomes, lined their walls with clay diyas and burnt sparklers to celebrate this special festival.
The advantages of a small town with limited earning and spending capacity, was that few things got to be unbearable. But when you multiply what was good fun by a thousandu00a0 fold, it often becomes disastrous.
Bengaluru has greatly exceeded it's carrying capacity and things are now way out of hand.u00a0 Uncontrolled explosions terrify dogs under beds, birds in the trees, children and old people. Even the fumes of the pretty coloured shower rockets are cruel. You can hear the sound of persistent coughing, sneezing and such allergic reactions everywhere.
It's unholy smoke, as far as I'm concerned and the only solution may be to get away from town.
We ought to lend our voice to the cause of saner celebrations and then hopefully, next year, things might be different.
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