Mumbai's Sacred Waters: A Stirring Call for Purity Amidst Chhath's Reverent Rites

As the vibrant hues of Chhath Puja prepare to paint Mumbai's landscapes, a profound question, honestly, lingers just beneath the surface of devotion: can our deeply cherished traditions truly coexist with the fragile ecosystems we call home? For some time now, the city has wrestled with this very dilemma, especially when it comes to the sacred ritual of immersion. And this year, it seems, the familiar anxieties are bubbling right back up.

Environmental activists, those tireless guardians of our natural world, are once again sounding a rather urgent alarm. They’ve cast a watchful eye over the preparations for Chhath Puja, particularly the immersion ceremonies, and what they’ve seen has, in truth, caused a considerable stir. You see, after years of concerted efforts—and, yes, legal directives—to guide devotees towards artificial ponds and away from the delicate natural water bodies, it appears some of those crucial lessons might be slipping away, perhaps unintentionally, perhaps not.

Groups like Vanashakti, through their dedicated spokesperson Stalin D, haven't hesitated to send stark reminders to both the Brihanmumbai Municipal Corporation (BMC) and the Maharashtra Pollution Control Board (MPCB). The message? Clear and unequivocal: protect our precious rivers, lakes, and coastal waters. For once, they say, let's not turn a blind eye to the potential onslaught of pollutants – the plastic detritus, the styrofoam decorations, the floral offerings, and, yes, even remnants of food and chemical dyes from idols – that so often accompany these large-scale immersions. Think of the marine life, the water quality, the very health of our city's blue veins; it's all at stake.

It’s not as if this is uncharted territory, mind you. Both the National Green Tribunal (NGT) and, indeed, the Supreme Court have weighed in on this very issue, repeatedly emphasizing the imperative to prevent pollution of natural water sources during festivals. The BMC itself, in previous years, commendably took steps to create designated artificial ponds, a sensible compromise that allowed faith to flourish without inflicting undue harm on nature. But now? Well, there's a palpable fear that these measures might not be as rigorously enforced, or even offered, this time around.

Stalin D, among others, points to numerous immersion sites – the iconic Juhu Beach, the serene Powai Lake, the historic Banganga Tank, and the vital creek systems around Malad, Versova, Marve, Aksa, and Gorai – as particularly vulnerable. These aren't just scenic spots; they're living, breathing parts of Mumbai's ecosystem. To treat them as mere receptacles for post-celebration detritus would be, frankly, a disservice to both nature and, dare I say, the spirit of reverence itself.

So, what’s the plea? It’s quite simple, really, though perhaps complex in its execution. Environmentalists are urging the authorities to revisit those NGT and Supreme Court orders, to ensure compliance, and to actively facilitate responsible immersion practices. Whether that means re-establishing artificial ponds or providing clear guidelines for eco-friendly disposal, the core demand remains: let's celebrate our faith with respect—respect for tradition, certainly, but also profound respect for the natural world that sustains us all. After all, isn't true devotion also about guardianship?