Junk Food Restrictions Expose India’s Growing Nutrition Divide

When the Maharashtra food‑regulator, Tukaram Mundhe, started clamping down on sugary snacks sold near schools, it felt like a breath of fresh air for many parents. The move revived a debate that has been simmering for more than a decade – should junk food be kept out of children’s reach on school grounds?

It all started back in 2010, when the Delhi‑based Uday Foundation filed a public interest litigation demanding a total ban on junk food and carbonated drinks inside schools. The Delhi High Court, after listening to an expert panel set up by the Food Safety and Standards Authority of India (FSSAI), ordered the regulator to draw up nationwide rules that would keep high‑fat, sugar and salt (HFSS) items at least 50 metres away from any school gate. The idea was simple: limit easy access, curb the rise of childhood obesity, and protect kids from non‑communicable diseases later in life.

Fast forward to 2021, the guidelines were finally enforced. Any HFSS product – whether a packet of chips, a sugary biscuit, or a fizzy drink – could not be sold on school premises or within that 50‑metre radius. On paper, it looked like a win for public health.

Yet, reality proved messier. Defining what counts as ‘high’ fat, sugar or salt has turned into a tug‑of‑war between the food industry and regulators. FSSAI’s draft from August 2026, for example, sets the cut‑off at 4.2 g of added fat per 100 g of solid food, 3 g of added sugar per 100 g, and 0.625 g of salt per 100 g. Food makers argue these thresholds are too low and threaten their product lines, while health experts say the limits are still lenient enough to let many junk items slip through.

Implementation, especially in a country as diverse as India, is another story altogether. In private, English‑medium schools affiliated with CBSE or ICSE, a canteen might be able to swap out a bag of chips for a healthier snack relatively easily. But most government schools – and a large chunk of private schools in smaller towns – don’t even have a canteen. Children often buy food from street vendors or tiny shops that sit just outside the school gate. Policing a 50‑metre “no‑junk‑food” bubble in densely packed neighbourhoods is, frankly, a logistical nightmare.

And there’s a deeper paradox: while the ban targets obesity, many children in government schools are still battling under‑nutrition. NFHS‑6 (2023‑24) shows that children under five years old have a 1.3 % obesity rate – a dip from earlier surveys – but adult women’s obesity has surged to 30.7 % and men’s to 27.3 %. In the same data set, roughly a quarter of the country’s under‑15 population lives in rural areas, where the risk of under‑nutrition remains high. So, while some urban kids may be spared a sugary drink, their poorer peers are still struggling to get enough protein, iron, or even calories.

Globally, the story mirrors India’s own contradictions. UNICEF’s 2025 Child Nutrition Report notes that worldwide, obesity now eclipses under‑weight as the most common form of malnutrition among school‑aged children – 10 % of the world’s kids, about 188 million, are obese. In India, NFHS‑5 (2019‑21) recorded 5.1 % of children aged 5‑19 as overweight, and a systematic review published in 2025 placed the average prevalence of obesity among Indian school‑goers at 6.97 %, with Delhi topping the chart at 13.57 %.

It would be naïve to pin obesity solely on HFSS foods sold near schools. Sedentary lifestyles, the lure of smartphones, lack of physical education, and even genetics play their part. Yet, the food environment matters – and that’s why the court‑mandated ban is still a crucial lever.

So where do we go from here? First, the rules need clearer, enforceable definitions that leave less room for loopholes. Second, a one‑size‑fits‑all distance rule may have to be adapted for urban slums versus rural hamlets. Third, any anti‑obesity drive must be paired with robust nutrition programmes that address under‑nutrition – fortified meals, school breakfast schemes, and community awareness.

Until those pieces fall into place, the junk‑food ban will remain a well‑intentioned but unevenly applied policy – a bright spot for some, a faint echo for many others. The real challenge is to bridge the nutrition divide, ensuring that every child, whether in a Delhi private school or a village primary classroom, gets a diet that fuels growth without fueling disease.