Firecrackers, Faith and the Freedom to Breathe

The history of firecrackers reminds us that traditions evolve. The question is not whether we have the freedom to celebrate, but whether our enjoyment should come at the expense of another person's health.

Mohammad Danish

11/14/20263 min read

There is only human about our desire to celebrate with noise, colour and spectacle. We light up the night sky, gather with our families and find joy in the brief brilliance of fireworks. Yet somewhere along the way, a simple instrument of entertainment has become entangled with religious identity, political argument and the peculiar human tendency to defend even our most harmful habits as sacred traditions. The question is no longer whether firecrackers bring happiness, for undoubtedly they do, but whether a few moments of personal pleasure justify the consequences imposed upon millions who never consented to participate.

Firecrackers were not born in India, nor were they conceived as an essential expression of Hindu religious practice. Their origins lie in China, where gunpowder emerged during the Tang dynasty in the ninth century. Fireworks subsequently travelled across Asia, eventually reaching the Indian subcontinent. Historical accounts describe pyrotechnic displays in the Vijayanagara Empire as early as the fifteenth century, before the establishment of Mughal rule. The Mughals later embraced fireworks as instruments of royal entertainment, employing them during weddings, courtly festivities and grand celebrations. Their association with Diwali developed over time, as practices often do, acquiring cultural familiarity through repetition rather than religious necessity.¹

This distinction matters because there is a fundamental difference between celebrating a religious festival and insisting that every custom associated with it must remain beyond criticism. Diwali existed long before gunpowder reached India. Its spiritual significance rests upon light, renewal, hope and the triumph of good over evil, not upon the chemical composition of an explosive. To suggest that limiting firecrackers somehow diminishes religious freedom is to confuse the enduring meaning of a festival with one particular method of enjoying it. Religion deserves respect, but respect for religion does not require society to ignore the measurable consequences of human behaviour.

The consequences are neither imaginary nor insignificant. In 2024, Delhi's Air Quality Index stood at 328 on Diwali and 339 the following day, both within the very poor category. The Centre for Science and Environment recorded a peak PM2.5 concentration of 603 micrograms per cubic metre around midnight on Diwali. In 2026, Delhi's official AQI reached 376 on Diwali and 344 the following day, although missing monitoring data raised questions about whether the latter figure understated the pollution.² ³

Firecrackers are not solely responsible for India's polluted air. Vehicular emissions, construction dust, industrial activity, agricultural burning and unfavourable weather all contribute. But the existence of other offenders does not absolve us of our own contribution. One cannot reasonably argue that because the river is already dirty, throwing another bucket of waste into it is an exercise of personal liberty.

The matter becomes more troubling when we consider those who bear the consequences without sharing the enjoyment. The child struggling with asthma, the elderly neighbour with weakened lungs, the patient recovering from respiratory illness and the animals terrified by repeated explosions are all involuntary participants in somebody else's celebration. Freedom, if it is to possess any moral worth, must be accompanied by responsibility towards others. We cannot demand an unrestricted right to produce smoke while expecting our neighbours to surrender their right to breathe clean air. Nor should this principle apply selectively to Diwali. Fireworks at weddings, New Year celebrations, political victories and religious festivities of every community deserve the same scrutiny. Pollution has no religion, and neither should our concern for public health.

Yet responsibility need not mean the disappearance of joy. There is nothing inherently objectionable about wanting to celebrate, nor should those who enjoy fireworks automatically be portrayed as insensitive people. The more reasonable question is how we preserve happiness without multiplying harm. Smaller celebrations, community-organised displays where legally permitted, reduced-noise alternatives, strict time limits and a greater emphasis on lamps, decoration and shared festivities offer ways to retain the spirit of celebration. Even so-called green crackers are not pollution-free, and where the air is already dangerously polluted, restraint may be the most responsible choice. The objective should not be to replace one form of intolerance with another, but to cultivate the maturity to recognise when personal enjoyment carries an unacceptable public cost.

Perhaps the greatest irony is that a festival celebrating the victory of light over darkness should become an occasion for defending practices that leave our cities beneath a blanket of smoke. Traditions survive not because they refuse to change, but because successive generations discover how to preserve their meaning in changing circumstances. Our ancestors adopted fireworks when they became available; surely we are capable of reconsidering their use when their consequences become undeniable. Religious freedom protects the dignity of belief, but it should not become an argument for disregarding the health and dignity of others. We need not celebrate less, but we must learn to celebrate better. For the true measure of a civilisation is not how brightly it can illuminate the sky for a few hours, but how thoughtfully it protects the lives beneath it.

References

1. P. K. Gode, The History of Fireworks in India between A.D. 1400 and 1900. Indira Gandhi National Centre for the Arts; The Indian Express historical review.

2. Centre for Science and Environment, Diwali 2024: Nature of the First Smog Event of the Season, November 2024. Research briefing.

3. Central Pollution Control Board AQI data, discussed in Hindustan Times, November 2026. Delhi's post-Diwali air-quality data and monitoring gaps.

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