An open letter to those who burst firecrackers;

To whomsoever it may concern,

As a child, I had bronchitis. There were two occasions during which I suffered the most; the school sports day and Diwali. The first one was still evitable and a product of my staunch obsession with my attendance record. It was my conscious choice. The other, however, I had no control over. So while people gleefully burst firecrackers six floors beneath me, I would be heaving and gasping for breath, my body racking with cough, and my wind pipe choking up with mucus. Although it is one of the most important festivals celebrated in my part of the world, I secretly dreaded its arrival.

I was revisited by these memories two days ago. My boarding mates and wardens were lighting phooljadis or sparklers in the veranda outside the school auditorium. Ironically, it was pouring cats and dogs just a metre away, outside the safety of the veranda roof. I refused to participate in this activity as while others seemed blind to it, I could see the consequence of our actions year after year in the fact that we were having a wet Diwali. And if "wet Diwali" isn't a paradox, I don't know what is. But the greater consequences of these actions dawned upon me as time slipped further into the night. I was sneezing. I had a runny nose. And right now I am typing with cough syrup and tissue handy as I occasionally gaze out the window at a city cloaked in smoke.

So in this open letter, I am demanding for an answer from all those who burst firecrackers: what gives you the right to have a little extra fun at the cost of my Diwali? What gives you the right to take away the light from my diwali in order to brighten yours? To all those animal activists: You burst noiseless crackers to save animal ears, but what about my lungs? Don't I have a right to have an illness free Diwali too?

I beg you, all of you, to think about what you are doing to me and thousands like me every time you take that phooljadi in hand or like that chakri, rocket, or anar. You are lighting futures of thousands of innocent children on fire, not only those allergic to smoke, but also those who's bodies are damaged in sweatshops that produce these crackers. You are traumatising them for life. And if the rainy clouds are any indicator, you are lighting a fire that will only extinguish when it swallows the planet whole.

Different environmental activists will give you multiple Rs to remedy the situation. I will only give you one; Reconsider. That's all it takes; a moment to reconsider your decision of buying those crackers. I assure you that your own conscience won't let you do it.

So please, this time around, celebrate Diwali by bringing light to others life, not taking it away. Have a safe, bright, smokeless Diwali,

Warm Regards,

Anaya Gadkari