As we awoke to kickstart another crazy day filled with school, chores, work, and deadlines to beat, I opened the curtains to what looked like hell – in different shades of grey. It was another one of those apocalypse-like days Delhi has frequently begun to have in the last few years.
Some days of the week, I volunteer at a school and work with children with learning disability. I found it hard to concentrate – my eyes were stinging with the polluted air and they were constantly tearing up.
I’m probably witness to the damage air pollution is, surely and now swiftly, doing to people across the spectrum. On the one hand, my five-year-old daughter is up all night with a hacking cough, which is a signal that the air is getting worse as we get deeper into the winter season.
On the other hand, my father has a pulmonary disorder that renders him completely home bound for weeks on end, alternating between using the oxygen cylinder he now keeps at home, and the medication he must keep taking to help his lungs breathe better. Stepping out with pollution levels at their current reading could prove fatal for him.
I recently tweeted supporting the firecracker ban. Ten minutes later, I was hit by an avalanche of trolls. The accusations flew fast and thick – how important firecrackers are in our tradition, how people like me were being myopic about one measly day, how I was probably morally and otherwise corrupt and must smoke, so what difference did it make whether the city air would turn worse or not?
As more and more people we know get “pollution-geared” with masks and metres that constantly read and gauge pollution levels, I wonder what it is that’s preventing our government from treating and terming this as a full blown health emergency. It’s not like we can’t see it, or there isn’t enough data supporting the damage it is doing to our health and our lives.
I know many couples who’ve made the decision to move out of Delhi, and even India, in the last few years – and air pollution has been the single most important reason. Their children were too sick for them to stick it out in what is being increasingly termed as a “gas chamber”.
But not all of us have that choice or luxury. So I write this in the cool, crisp air of the mountains of Almora – my family and I took advantage of the long weekend we got because of pollution levels, and decided to get the hell out. It’s a bittersweet feeling though, when you know it’s a short-lived breather. You also know that the choice to move bag and baggage out of this city is neither possible nor plausible for many of us.
What is a city or a life if it doesn’t give you the most basic need for survival? Air.
The time is now. Dum spiro, spero. While I breathe, I hope.
(Mitali Mukherjee is Editor & Co-Founder @themoney_mile. She’s a business journalist who’s worked with the TV18 Network, The TV Today group, Doordarshan & BBC World. She loves reading, theatre & working with children)
(Breathe In, Breathe Out: Are you finding it tough to breathe polluted air? Join hands with FIT to find #PollutionKaSolution. Send in your suggestions to fit@thequint.com or WhatsApp @ +919999008335)
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