'I Protested at India Gate as Delhi’s Air Kills Us. Yet, Govt Shows No Urgency'

I joined the protests on 10 November because we’re literally running out of breath, writes a protester.

On 11 November, several Delhi residents took to the streets near India Gate to protest against the deteriorating air quality in the national capital.

(Image altered by The Quint/Aroop Mishra)

I went to New Delhi's India Gate on the evening of 9 November because I could not stand by any longer.

For weeks, the air in Delhi has been a slow, choking assault, and a daily attack on loved ones. People with asthma and other respiratory issues in my household are getting worse.

I could see the toll it was taking on them: constant coughing, waking up with tight chests, and an anxiety that comes from not knowing whether today’s air will leave you breathless. That’s what pushed me onto the streets.

As a lawyer and social rights activist who has worked in the environmental law space, I frame this not just as a personal grievance but as a case of constitutional failure. The Constitution isn’t a brochure. Article 21 guarantees the right to life, which the Supreme Court has consistently interpreted to include the right to a clean and healthy environment. When the state fails to uphold this right, citizens are bound to demand action.

We Marched for Our Rights

As per the Medical Certification of Cause of Deaths 2023 report for Delhi, 8,801 people died due to respiratory diseases. This makes up around 10 percent of the total institutional deaths, up from about 5 percent in 2005.

When the state fails to protect this right, when it treats toxic air as something we should simply adapt to, citizens have every reason to protest peacefully. Article 19 protects our right to assemble and speak, so long as we don’t create a nuisance.

We had planned the march where there’s no vehicular movement precisely to avoid any nuisance. This wasn’t about disruption; it was about urgency.

We reached the India Gate a little before 5 pm. Hundreds of people had gathered—students, parents, seniors, and doctors—all worried about the same thing. We started marching to make a visible demand: that the government treat this as what it is: a public health emergency. 

We wanted clear health advisories, temporary restrictions on non-essential vehicular movement, suspension of construction, and other immediate steps that reduce exposure while longer-term fixes are implemented.

The Delhi government’s invocation of the Graded Response Action Plan (GRAP) Stage 3 on 11 November is too little, too late. Given the severity of the crisis, the situation warranted an immediate shift to Stage 4 — including a ban on private vehicles and a complete halt to construction — measures the government has so far avoided.

But the march was halted. Officials informed us that a magistrate had issued an order under Section 163 of the Bharatiya Nagarik Suraksha Sanhita (BNSS), instructing us not to protest at the site.

This provision is intended for situations of immediate and grave danger—a legal safeguard designed to prevent violence or threats to public safety before they occur. It empowers the state to act preemptively when there is a clear, imminent risk to public order.

The critical question, then, is this: does a peaceful assembly of citizens—students, parents, doctors—marching with placards about their right to breathe clean air and live in a healthy environment, amount to an “immediate threat to public safety”?

The use of Section 163 in this instance appears to be a serious misapplication of the law—conflating a lawful, peaceful demand for a fundamental right with a threat to public order. In effect, it criminalises dissent under the pretext of prevention.

Then the police began rounding people up. I found this deeply wrong — not because we sought to cause any disturbance, but because we were exercising our fundamental rights to demand the basic conditions guaranteed under the right to life. Yet, we were met with a legal provision meant for a situation we in no way represented.

According to police, several protesters at the site were detained for assembling without permission.

The Deputy Commissioner of Delhi Police, Devesh Kumar Mahla said the detentions were preventive. "Only Jantar Mantar is designated as a protest site where permission can be sought by following due procedure," he was quoted as saying by PTI.

The state’s inaction on Delhi-NCR’s pollution is compounded by a perplexing silence from the Supreme Court of India—the constitutional guardian of every citizen’s fundamental rights. The court’s role is to hold the executive accountable for its failures. Instead, what we are witnessing is a troubling normalisation of the crisis.

The recent ‘Justice for All’ marathon organised by the Supreme Court Bar Association on 10 November, in the very same hazardous air, sends a disquieting message: that even life-threatening pollution is not urgent enough to disrupt business as usual. When the highest court in the land fails to lead by example or assert its constitutional duty, who can the people turn to for a remedy against the state’s inaction?

An Issue That Runs Deeper Than Political Cycles

This isn’t a matter of blame-shifting between one election and the next. It’s about coordinated state action. Stubble burning in Punjab and Haryana does contribute to Delhi’s pollution, particularly in the months of October and November, but it isn’t the whole story. 

Road dust, unpaved surfaces, open dumping, garbage burning, vehicular emissions, and unchecked construction all add up. These are problems the state has the tools to tackle—if it treats them as a crisis.

I keep thinking about how other cities have responded when smog became intolerable. When Beijing faced its infamous smog crisis in the 2010s, the Chinese government declared red alerts, shut down factories, converted coal plants to gas, restricted vehicle licenses, and coordinated policy implementation across provinces.

Over a span of a decade, they cut PM2.5 levels by more than 50 percent, from nearly 90 µg/m³ in 2013 to around 30 µg/m³ today. It wasn’t easy, but it showed what political will and regional coordination can achieve.

Similarly, Paris took a bold urban approach. The city banned older vehicles, created low-emission zones, expanded cycling and pedestrian infrastructure, and even made public transport free during high-pollution days. 

In the last decade, Paris cut nitrogen dioxide levels by about 45 percent and fine particulate levels by 35 percent. Even though their air still doesn’t meet WHO standards fully, they’ve demonstrated consistent progress through sustained, city-wide measures.

In Delhi, meanwhile, we see token measures every year. Bans, advisories, and temporary restrictions are not systemic, long-term strategy. Why is the response here different? Why do our leaders avoid calling this what it is—a public health emergency? Until that happens, coordinated, time-bound action is unlikely.

If Not the State, Then Who Do We Hold Accountable?

There are practical steps the state can and must take:

• Declare severe pollution a public health emergency and bring it under the disaster management framework so that other agencies act accordingly;

• Move decisively to impose GRAP Stage 4 measures without hesitation when air quality reaches severe levels;

• Restrict non-essential vehicle movement during peaks;

• Suspend construction and heavy-duty vehicle movement when required;

• Expand and prioritise public transport;

• Enforce stricter emissions regulations; and

• Invest in real-time monitoring and transparent data so citizens can see what’s happening. 

For agricultural contributors, subsidies and financial incentives for residue management machines and biowaste systems are essential. One can’t simply expect farmers to change overnight without a transition plan.

Yes, public participation matters. People should use public transport when possible, avoid burning waste, and support local clean-air initiatives. But individual choices can only scratch the surface of the problem.

The larger, structural sources of pollution need state-level solutions and enforcement. If the state won’t accept that responsibility, who are we supposed to hold accountable?

The air pollution crisis in Delhi is a catastrophe unfolding in slow motion. That night at India Gate, I felt a mixture of anger and resolve. Anger at the indifference of ministers and administrators who do not want to call a crisis a crisis, and resolve because citizens cannot keep waiting.

Protesting was never about confrontation; it was about demanding that the state fulfil its primary duty: protecting the right to life. If we cannot breathe safely, what else matters?

(The Quint has reached out to the Chief Minister of Delhi, the Environment Minister of Delhi, the Department of Environment (Government of NCT of Delhi), and the Delhi Pollution Control Committee for a response to the issues raised. Their responses are awaited, and this story will be updated once we receive them.)

(Abhishek Rana is a social rights activist and a Professor of Law at OP Jindal Global University.)

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