I have a pollution allergy. Saying it out loud feels like a confession, but it’s the only honest truth, I have left. This is not just a seasonal cold or some passing viral fever. It’s a quiet and hostile takeover of my life. In cities like Delhi and Mumbai, where the AQI routinely hits 500, We are not urban residents anymore but, we are the victims of a slow-motion environmental crime. Every breath is an intake of poison and every morning is a calculation: how much of my life will I lose to the air today. This isn’t a winter problem. It’s a permanent shift in how we exist. Walk into any office in Delhi and you’ll find employers reporting that half their staff is sick with a sore throat or fever. We are told this is the new normal and the price of development, but it’s a price paid in the currency of our internal organs. I’m not looking for advice to stay indoors or drink more water. I’m looking for an acknowledgment that our environment is a health catastrophe that no amount of personal wellness can fix. It is a systemic crisis which starts at the top with a total failure of governance. While we choke, those responsible focus on perception management instead of pollution management. There are stories of officials spraying water around monitoring stations to fake a lower reading or simply turning monitors off when things get too dire. When the data is manipulative, the hope for help dies. Programs like the National Clean Air Program remain stuck in red tape while money is wasted on smog towers gimmicks with no scientific backing while industrial emissions and traffic go unchecked. For students and office goers, the everyday life is a relentless gauntlet. The commute is a peak period of inhalation where ultra fine particles enter the lungs and move directly into the bloodstream. We’re told to wear N95 masks, but have you tried wearing one for ten hours a day? It’s a cycle of skin irritation, heat, and a claustrophobia that kills your focus. A mask is only as good as its seal, and for anyone with facial hair or a job that requires talking, that protection is a leaky, uncomfortable myth. Then there is the illusion of the air purifier. Our homes are full of these silent machines, but they are just bandages, creating a pathetic, temporary bubble of clean air that bursts the second you step out of the room or get in a car. We have turned clean air into a luxury good, yet even the wealthiest people cannot filter the air that reaches their heart and brain. Is this the price of progress we are truly willing to pay? This is a brutal reality that we are trapped in. Doctors and politicians tell us to manage our health, but they refuse to manage the environment that is destroying it. Calling this a seasonal predicament is a form of environmental treason. We are living in a world that is just not quite fatal, as Rachel Carson in her book “Silent Spring” warns us “Who would want to live in a world which is just quite fatal?” I think the time for tips on better filters or better masks is already over. Chronic illness demands systemic correction, not personal adjustments. Until the government stops managing perceptions and starts managing the air itself, we will remain a republic of the choking, paying for progress with the very organs that keep us alive.