Dr. Satyawan Saurabh
In India, faith often trumps reason. That is why the sound of temple bells can sometimes feel more suffocating than silence itself—yet we refuse to listen. A recent court ruling in Mumbai, imposing a fine of ₹5,000 for feeding pigeons in public places, starkly exposes this conflict. This decision is not against pigeons; it is against a mindset that tramples science, law, and public health in the name of misplaced sentimentality.
In our society, feeding pigeons is widely regarded as a “virtuous act.” Early each morning, people scatter grains on balconies, terraces, and parks, convinced they have performed a noble deed. But the crucial question remains: can an act done without understanding its consequences truly be called compassion? Medical science has repeatedly warned that dried pigeon droppings become airborne and spread serious diseases such as cryptococcosis, histoplasmosis, hypersensitivity pneumonitis, and salmonella. These are not hypothetical dangers; they are clinical realities documented in hospitals. Asthma patients, those with respiratory illnesses, the elderly, and children are the first to suffer.
The Mumbai court did not treat this merely as a violation of municipal rules but recognized it as a direct threat to public health. By invoking provisions of the IPC, the state has signalled a shift—from merely treating disease to actively preventing social habits that cause it. For the first time in India, a socially accepted practice like feeding pigeons has been legally penalised. This sets an important precedent: the law will now judge actions by their consequences, not by emotional comfort.
The most uncomfortable aspect of this debate is the invocation of religion. Critics are calling the ruling an attack on faith. But does any religion sanction the spread of disease? Does any scripture advocate endangering others to earn spiritual merit? Even government and health authorities have clarified that feeding pigeons is not a religious obligation. The resistance, therefore, is not about faith—it is about stubbornness, an unwillingness to question habitual behaviour.
Cities are no longer villages. In densely populated urban spaces with high-rise buildings, limited airflow, and shared environments, even minor negligence can escalate into a serious public health crisis. Grain scattered on balconies attracts pigeons—and with them, filth, infection, and disease. Ironically, many who reject masks, vaccines, and scientific advisories are, in the name of virtue, helping turn cities into reservoirs of biological waste.
It is important to state clearly: pigeons are not the problem. They act on instinct. The responsibility lies with us—our unscientific sentimentality, our convenience-driven beliefs, and our collective negligence. If compassion is genuine, it must be expressed in safe, regulated, and scientific ways—through animal welfare organisations, not through unchecked acts in public spaces.
The Mumbai court’s ruling delivers a clear message: faith may be personal, but its consequences cannot endanger public life. Compassion does not justify harm, and the law has finally drawn that line. This judgment is not confined to one city or one incident; it is a national warning. If we do not reform our habits in time, even “faith” will find itself answerable in court.
It is time to redefine virtue. An act that risks a child’s life cannot be virtuous. Faith that lengthens hospital queues cannot be sacred. This ruling is not against pigeons—it is against unthinking devotion. It reminds us that the first condition of being human is concern for another human life. And if faith is truly sincere, it will not fear science.
Note: Dr. Satyawan Saurabh
Poet, freelance journalist, columnist
All India Radio & TV panelist
333, Fairy Garden, Kaushalya Bhawan
Barwa (Siwani), Bhiwani
