The Air We Breathe, The Food That Heals

As the city chokes, small bites of comfort keep hope alive

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THE air we breathe in Delhi after Diwali feels almost poisonous, a sharp reminder of how celebrations can so easily turn into collective suffering. Every year we hear about stricter bans on fireworks, tougher rules, better policing, yet the sky continues to crackle and roar long after the festival has ended. It is not only the suffocating smog that unsettles me but the helplessness of watching it unfold. We seal our windows, run purifiers around the clock, and still that faint acidic burn in the throat refuses to leave.

I keep wondering what it will take for us to care in a way that truly matters. To act like responsible citizens when the consequences are sitting inside our lungs. Is celebration really so fragile that it cannot survive without fireworks. Somewhere between tradition and toxicity, we seem to have forgotten what is important.