May cause respiratory effects

It's 11pm on a Sunday as I write this. It's Diwali. I'm visiting my parents in Delhi, as I've done every year since I moved away over a decade ago.

I'm feeling a certain way right now. I'm writing this post so I don't forget this feeling.

The fireworks outside are so loud that it feels like the world is ending. They've been going off for three or four hours now. I'm cowering inside my bedroom, thinking they will stop any moment now. But they just won't stop. There are so many of them.

Why won't they stop? Aren't the people of this city tired of setting fire to the world yet? How have they not run out of things to burn? How many more hours of fire and brimstone until their hunger is sated?

Our dogs are afraid. They've been trying to burrow into the sofa cushions since the first sporadic sounds of fireworks began at sunset. How must the animals on the streets feel right now? I know from living here for the first twenty-two years of my life that many animals won't make it to tomorrow morning. Many will be badly maimed. Many will perish out of fear. There will be fewer birds in the city for a few days.

Oh, and then there's the main event: the smoke. So much smoke. My weather app tells me the AQI in my area is 500. Then it goes on to say, rather matter of factly:

Here's the dataviz, just to drive the point home:

This is, somehow, considered just fine around these parts. Normal. Unremarkable.

I wore a mask when I went outside during the day. Here's what my mask looked like when I got back in the evening (top), compared to a fresh mask I just opened (bottom):

See that gray?

There's so much smoke outside that I can't see across the street. The air purifier is barely able to keep the indoor AQI at 250:

I've never had any love for Diwali. I only visit my parents during this time because, well, it's Diwali. They want me here, I love them, and I like to see them happy. But as I see the people of Delhi set fire to years of their lives—and the lives of those who did not consent to being part of their so-called celebrations—I can't help but wonder if these trip are worth it anymore.

I've had respiratory issues ever since I got COVID in 2020. I've spent lakhs of rupees on doctors, medication, masks, air purifiers, and treatments. I'm always masked up in crowded spaces. I take my flu shots regularly. I've stopped going to gigs and concerts because there are too many smokers at these events.

What I mean to say is: I've been careful with my health, but it feels like I'm throwing it all away by choosing to be in Delhi tonight.

I don't know how much of my life and health this trip will steal from me. I don't know if I'll fall sick while I'm here, and in what way. I'm afraid of going to sleep, because who knows what state my respiratory system will be in when I wake up tomorrow. My nose is already stuffy. I can already feel the post-nasal drip creeping up on me. My eyes and throat are already burning.

In the afternoon I bought a fresh can of pressured saline wash to clean out my nasal cavity, but I left it in the car. The car is outside. I can't go outside. Outside is where the air purifier isn't. I'm afraid of even going to the bathroom, because the air purifier can't clean the air in there.

I'm so afraid for my health right now.

What's wrong with this city? I don't understand. I was born and raised here. I lived here for twenty-two years. But I just don't get it. What am I missing? Why is this happening? Why are people doing this?

I feel so powerless and angry, hiding indoors, waiting out armageddon. There's nothing I can do to stop people from poisoning the air. Worse, there's nothing I can do to save myself. No amount of money or technology or medicine can save me when the air is made entirely of smoke.

I just want to go home. I just want to be in Bangalore, where it's safe. I wish I hadn't come to Delhi at all.