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Summary
Decibel rules are rarely enforced in India and noise almost seems like a social opiate. It’s time to measure and manage our urban soundscape as a key development indicator. Peace and quiet marks a sensitive society apart.
Every year, I look forward to the Ganpati festival with joy, yet I brace myself in quiet dread. The noise levels are overwhelming. On evenings of visarjan, with the idol-immersion spot just a short distance away, pounding drums, frenzied crowds and blaring speakers almost make it hard to breathe. Even on higher floors and beyond the designated time, behind closed windows and doors, the cacophony is relentless.
After years of travelling across Indian cities, towns and villages, I see a pattern: India thrives on noise, and also suffers for it. Religious celebrations, social festivals, weddings, political rallies, traffic and even local cricket matches all demand loudness.
This obsession extends to brands and services. Telecallers selling everything from real estate to insurance do not hesitate to call during Sunday siestas or workday evenings. In public spaces, the habit persists. People watch Instagram reels and videos at full volume in hospital waiting areas, aeroplanes and trains as if quietude is a social taboo. We have internalized noise as normal.
Also Read: Travel: In a world of noise, silence becomes the ultimate luxury trip
Indian metro cities consistently exceed the World Health Organization’s recommended decibel limits for residential areas, which are 55dB during the day and 45dB at night. During festivals, levels can spike to 110dB, far above legal limits. Chronic exposure contributes to stress, sleep disturbances and cardiovascular problems. The noise levels seem to have a state licence. Decibel rules are rarely enforced and noise almost seems like a social opiate. As a result, we may have become tone-deaf—not just to decibels but to the call of social consciousness.
Culturally, sound has always been a symbol of celebration. Temple bells, church bells, conch shells, drums and fireworks announce auspicious moments and invite participation. Over the years, this ritual clarity has given way to relentless noise. Even weddings have become kitschy and noisy. Festivals and public celebrations spill into streets with honks and amplified music from blaring speakers. This is less about celebration and more a reflection of cultural insensitivity and civic neglect.
Also Read: All sound is not noise
Our cities function more as ‘noise zones’ than true residential spaces, where calm and well-being are now commodities available only through paid therapy or Instagram retreats. When we go on quiet holidays, it takes time to adjust. Only then do we realize how starved our minds are for calm.
Noise is a silent killer of well-being. It seeps into daily life unnoticed, fragmenting attention, fraying patience and steadily raising stress. Workplaces are orchestrated around sound. Phones blare across meetings. Endless notifications, messages and social media updates create a continuous hum in our minds. Thoughts rarely flow uninterrupted. Yet, we celebrate noise as a sign of energy and vitality, mistaking loudness for life.
The social implications are striking. Noise magnifies inequality. Those with resources retreat to quiet corners, gated communities or wellness resorts. The celebration of noise often ignores these realities. In the same locality, a gated community enjoys quiet courtyards while children in a closeby lane try to nap under the roar of a construction site or amped-up loudspeaker. Noise is both a burden and a privilege.
Also Read: Rahul Matthan: Can driverless cars tame Indian traffic?
Sadly, noise has become a civic badge. The louder the streets, the more alive the city is presumed to be. Yet, this vibrancy comes at the cost of our inner life. Our mental landscapes mirror our streets, cluttered and overstimulated. We glorify the loud, the colourful and the vibrant. In a nation of more than 1.4 billion people, to be heard has become a way to assert existence. Volume has become a proxy for visibility.
And still, paradoxically, we crave peace and quiet. Mindfulness apps and meditation classes are booming. Those who can afford it flock to retreats in the Western Ghats or Himachal Pradesh or to Kerala’s backwaters to experience tranquillity.
While silence is at a premium, the irony of it is striking. The same society that celebrates noise publicly also yearns for private calm.
Also Read: Businesses must deal squarely with the harsh realities of mental health at the workplace
Sound is part of life and culture. The goal is not to eliminate it, but to create pockets of quiet. Green spaces, pedestrian zones, libraries and cafes that respect calm can provide a refuge for the mind. Even a small balcony or courtyard can become a sanctuary if we make space for stillness. Urban planning can make a difference, even if that seems more elusive than the Yeti.
Despite numerous court rulings on permissible noise levels, the state has largely kept quiet about the relentless roar that surrounds us, allowing decibels to run unchecked while citizens bear the brunt. In a democracy that promises us freedom, the liberty to live without our eardrums being assaulted remains missing.
When we talk about India becoming a developed nation, we often focus on GDP, infrastructure and technology. Yet, one of the simplest measures of the quality of daily life is almost always overlooked: silence. We must measure and manage our urban soundscapes, making it a key development indicator alongside income, education and health. The right to peace and quiet is the mark of a sensitive society.
The author is a corporate advisor and author of ‘Family and Dhanda’
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