When the Smoke Clears

A festival that celebrates the triumph of light over darkness is slowly becoming synonymous with smoke, noise and, sometimes, tragedy.

Every year, Delhi wakes up to hazy skies, air quality takes another beating, and we debate the environmental consequences of a few hours of celebration. (And yes, I know Diwali crackers are not the only reason for Delhi's pollution.) But sometimes, the consequences are far more heartbreaking than statistics can capture.

This Diwali, there were reports of multiple accidents. High-rise apartments catching fire, properties going up in flames, accidental fires and injuries. But the most heartbreaking news was that of a 10-year-old boy who lost his life while bursting a firecracker.

A 10-year-old! Probably looking forward to Diwali, waiting for the evening, the crackers, the fun. An evening that should have been another happy childhood memory turned into a family's worst nightmare. I can't imagine what the family must be going through.

Traditions are meant to bring people together, create joy and leave behind beautiful memories. They are not meant to put lives at risk or make the air we breathe more poisonous.

And what do I preach others when I struggle to practise it myself? My son won't stop bursting crackers. The excitement, the fun, the thrill of the noise! Somehow, the excitement of lighting a cracker seems to be far more appealing than the quiet serenity of a pooja, decorations or a light of a diya.

I remember making a pledge not to burst crackers when I was in the eighth standard. Our school had organised a campaign on "Say No to Crackers". It wasn't just about pollution. We were also told about the children who were employed in the firecracker industry, working in hazardous conditions. The fact that children were being exploited to manufacture something that gave us a few seconds of excitement really stayed with me.

That day's promise has stayed with me. I haven't touched a cracker since.

These days, I wonder if a school could even run a campaign like that without a barrage of accusations. The moment you question anything tied to a festival, someone will inevitably claim you don't respect your own traditions.

And then there are the explanations! One of the most bizarre things I heard from an influencer was that we burst crackers to show the way to our ancestors who return during Pitru Paksha. Seriously? We seem to be getting increasingly creative when it comes to finding religious justifications for things we don't want to question.

Perhaps we have become too attached to the spectacle of festivals. The brightness, the noise, the grandeur, the momentary thrill. Somewhere in all this, the essence gets lost.

And I am not even talking only about crackers here. There is another kind of darkness we don't acknowledge — the darkness of indifference, of excess, of refusing to question our own actions.

Traditions are important. But does that mean they cannot evolve? Does questioning a practice automatically mean disrespecting a religion or its culture? Surely, we should be able to separate faith from practices that perhaps need a rethink.

Maybe it is time to look beyond the lights outside and turn our attention inwards.
After all, what is the point of celebrating the triumph of light over darkness if we are unwilling to question the darkness we create ourselves?