Cleanliness And Godliness
“Cleanliness is next to Godliness”, said Mahatma Gandhi, emphasising the importance of cleanliness. Irrespective of whether he was quoting an old proverb or formulating a new one, his belief in this is borne out by his own personal commitment to the concept. His deep concern about this is evidenced in another statement: he is reputed to have said, with understandable exaggeration, that “Sanitation is more important than independence”.
In keeping with the importance of this, the government launched a Swachh Bharat Abhiyan (Clean India Mission) in 2014. It aimed primarily at ending open defecation. Appropriately, the image used for branding was a pair of round-rimmed spectacles, an immediately-recognised reminder of Gandhi. In conjunction with a massive toilet-construction programme, data points to great progress in ending open defecation.
This ‒ though very important from the viewpoints of dignity, hygiene, and health – is but one aspect of a much larger problem of cleanliness. Its physical manifestation is often sensed by our olfactory system, changing from a gentle smell to an overpowering stench, even before it presents itself in visual form as a heap of rotting garbage. All over urban India – and sometimes even in villages – one comes across such piles of garbage. Sometimes, it is scattered all over a large area or along a roadside; more often, there seem to be a few popular locations to dump whatever is not wanted. It is rare, of course, that these favoured spots coincide with specially made garbage dumps, if and where they do exist. In keeping with socialism, prescribed in the Constitution, there is an attempt to spread the garbage equitably and as geographically-inclusively (widely) as possible!
In some areas, presumably as an attempt to ensure backward and forward integration, there are big garbage heaps just outside hospitals. These cause sickness, resulting in patients for the hospital; their stay there gives rise to various medical and non-medical waste, including that generated by their visitors; much of this goes into the very convenient dumping area outside the hospital, giving rise to more sick people and a new set of patients for the hospital. So, a positive feedback loop is established between garbage heaps, more patients, higher income for the hospital and more waste, leading to even more garbage. A well-integrated and symbiotic chain, as one can see!
All Indians, irrespective of our other diversities, take meticulous efforts in keeping our homes clean (one country, one habit). Daily sweeping and mopping of floors are part of the routine, unlike countries where once-a-week vacuuming may be a norm. In many homes, removing one’s shoes at the entrance is common, ensuring that no dust or dirt from outside enters the home. Yet, public spaces are littered with trash. Roadsides and rivers are full of plastic bottles and bags, besides a wide range of other discards. Nor is the sea spared: the otherwise wonderful sight of ships and boats, of waves lapping the Gateway of India in Mumbai, is marred by the amount of floating garbage – almost all thrown by visitors at the seaside or tourists on boat rides around the bay. The sachet revolution too has done its bit: while it opened up the bottom of the pyramid as a consumer market, it did even more in terms of addition to randomly disposed trash. To these largely non-biodegradable items is added a host of other trash, generously supplemented by construction and demolition debris and stones from broken pavements. Barring a few manicured areas like Central Delhi, roadsides are full of these, along with wild undergrowth.
Is it that public spaces don’t matter; that what is everybody’s is nobody’s, and so no one cares? Is it a sign of not belonging, of not “owning” the city? Why is throwing trash over the wall an acceptable practice? Is it that garbage bins are too few, inaccessible, and not regularly cleaned? Whatever the answers, one wonders why the local authorities do not monitor and control mass dumping, why they can’t take responsibility to pick up garbage and keep the city clean. Just a little care and effort, and small amounts of money, can ensure a clean city. This will change the very appearance of cities; more importantly, it could reduce infections and health problems. “Green city, clean city, healthy city” could be the new slogan.
Economic incentives are often a good solution. It may be worth running hackathons or challenge contests for creating technologies (and startups) that convert waste to wealth, along with supply chains that begin with household collection. Already, some limited work in this sphere is on, but we need much more. Of course, this will not take care of use-and-throw habits. For this, as in many other areas, we need awareness and education campaigns, complemented by enforcement.
At the level of personal cleanliness, research has shown that handwashing with soap is one of the simplest and cheapest ways of promoting good health by reducing infections, especially amongst children. During the Covid pandemic, frequent handwashing for all was vigorously promoted. It is a pity that with the groundwork already laid, almost no corporates have followed up with a continuing campaign. It provides a unique opportunity to soap manufacturers to boost sales and thereby do good while doing well. As icing on the cake, they could claim that this is part of their CSR!
In the more intangible realm, clean hands are important to corporates, else one of the alphabet soup enforcement agencies may swoop on you, failing which a Hindenburg may. Cleanliness, then, is truly next to Godliness.
*The author loves to think in tongue-in-cheek ways, with no maliciousness or offence intended. At other times, he is a public policy analyst and author. His latest book is Decisive Decade: India 2030 Gazelle or Hippo (Rupa, 2021).
