Dussehra has once again delivered its annual blockbuster. Ravana, Meghnath, and Kumbhkaran went up in flames across India, as leaders and VIPs posed for cameras in front of burning effigies, smiling widely while secretly praying their security guards had packed enough cough syrup. The message was clear: Good always wins over evil. But minutes later, as the smoke engulfed the crowd, the real demon of our times—pollution—rose from the ashes like a sequel no one asked for.
And then begins Act Two of this comedy: politicians suddenly remember the farmers. According to them, it’s not the 10,000 firecrackers, not the V.I.P convoys spewing diesel, not the never-ending construction dust, but only the poor farmer burning stubble who is guilty of suffocating Delhi. In fact, if pollution could be put on trial, farmers would be dragged to court while the rest of the culprits would be sitting in the judge’s chair.
What’s even more amusing is watching leaders attend Dussehra ceremonies, set fire to Ravana with one hand, and then lecture Punjab farmers about the environment with the other. Some even fly in helicopters to watch the effigy burn—nothing says “green commitment” quite like dropping aviation fuel while giving speeches about saving the planet.
The opposition, of course, plays its own comedy role. One side blames farmers, the other side blames the government, but both happily light crackers in their constituencies. If hypocrisy had a pollution index, Indian politics would top the global charts.
Meanwhile, the common man coughs through the smog, school children are told to wear masks again, and farmers are once more painted as Ravana in political speeches. The real Ravana, however, is laughing louder than ever—he doesn’t have ten heads anymore, but ten different sources of smoke.
So the next time we clap at the burning effigy and shout “Jai Shri Ram”, perhaps we should also shout “Jai Pollution”. After all, it’s the only evil that refuses to die, no matter how many times we set Ravana on fire