Winter in North India no longer carries the gentle chill of nostalgia. Instead, it drifts in cloaked in smog, acrid pollution, and despair. Each year, as the air quality index (AQI) hits catastrophic levels, the nation seems trapped in a vicious cycle of reactive measures and inadequate solutions. Schools close their doors, children are forced into online classes, and life is put on pause—all while the question looms: are these measures too little, too late?
This week, Delhi and its neighbouring states plunged into yet another public health emergency. The AQI in the capital breached the “severe plus” category, with readings of over 500 in certain areas—levels that are equivalent to smoking 49 cigarettes in a single day. For context, smoking in Bangalore’s air, while not healthy, is currently considered healthier than simply breathing in Delhi.
{Image- Jammu, Wednesday, Nov. 20, 2024. (PTI)}
Amid this crisis, schools and universities have been forced to shift to online classes yet again. The Supreme Court has intervened, universities like Jamia Millia Islamia and Delhi University have issued notifications, and government schools have suspended physical classes. These decisions, though necessary, feel more like desperate attempts to contain the damage rather than addressing the root cause of the crisis.
As educators, policymakers, and parents, aren’t we hypocritical? We preach yoga, mindfulness, and physical wellness to our children while they breathe in air laden with PM2.5 and PM10 particles—air that clogs their lungs and hinders their growth. We promote “wellness periods” in schools and discuss the importance of holistic development, yet we do nothing to ensure that the very environment they live in supports their health and well-being.
Every child has the right to a safe and nurturing space to learn and grow, but what are we truly offering them? Masks, air purifiers, and lessons on resilience—tools to survive rather than thrive. What kind of childhood is this, where outdoor play becomes a luxury and clean air a distant dream?
The scientific community has repeatedly warned about the devastating impacts of prolonged exposure to polluted air, particularly on children. Their developing lungs are more susceptible to damage from particulate matter, which can lead to chronic respiratory diseases, reduced lung function, and an increased risk of cardiovascular conditions later in life. A study by the Lancet Commission on Pollution and Health estimates that pollution caused nine million premature deaths worldwide in 2019, with air pollution being the primary culprit.
In India, the numbers are staggering. Children exposed to high levels of air pollution are more likely to suffer from asthma, cognitive impairments, and even stunted growth. Beyond the physical toll, the psychological impact is equally alarming. Living in a constant state of environmental crisis breeds anxiety, stress, and a diminished sense of safety—all of which are detrimental to their overall development.
The Return to Online Classes: A Missed Opportunity
If air pollution is to be the “new normal” in North India’s winters, then why have we abandoned online education so completely? The pandemic forced us into virtual classrooms, but as soon as the immediate threat subsided, the system was discarded without much thought to its long-term utility. Teachers, untrained and unprepared, are now expected to conduct meaningful lessons online, while students struggle to adapt to an environment that they haven’t engaged with meaningfully since 2022.
This raises an important question: should online education remain a part of our academic framework, even when circumstances don’t demand it? Incorporating regular online classes—perhaps one day a month—could help students and teachers stay familiar with the format. It could also serve as a contingency plan for emergencies like the current pollution crisis, ensuring continuity in learning without the chaos of sudden shifts.
Moreover, training teachers to connect with students effectively in virtual environments is crucial. Simply moving the classroom to a screen is not enough. Teachers need tools, strategies, and support to create engaging and impactful lessons. Without this, online education remains a hollow exercise, benefiting no one.
Every winter, the same questions resurface: why do we wait until the AQI crosses hazardous levels to act? Why do policies remain reactive rather than preventive? And most critically, why do we continue to normalise this situation for our children?
The blame lies not just with governments or industries but with society as a whole. From unchecked stubble burning in Punjab and Haryana to vehicular emissions in urban centres, the web of responsibility is vast and interconnected. Yet, year after year, the measures taken are temporary, insufficient, and often misplaced. We treat the symptoms, not the disease.
What kind of message are we sending to our children? That their health and future are expendable? That the environment they inherit will always be an afterthought? As the smog thickens and the world debates solutions, the reality for millions of children in North India is bleak. They will grow up breathing poison, and the long-term consequences are unimaginable.
As I watch this crisis unfold, I am filled with a deep sense of worry for the children of today and tomorrow. What kind of world are we leaving for them to suffer in? If we don’t act now—boldly, decisively, and with genuine commitment—we risk condemning them to a lifetime of struggle in an environment that is hostile to their very existence.
The time for half-measures is over. We owe it to our children to build a future where they can breathe freely, dream fearlessly, and live fully. The question is, are we ready to rise to the challenge?