Thiruvananthapuram is getting ready for its annual big bash – the Attukal Pongala. It is a one-of-a-kind experience even by Kerala standards. Lakhs of women line the streets; volunteers offer water, food and free transportation. Religion, caste and age barely make their divisive appearance. The city becomes an organism of collective devotion.

It is beautiful. But it is also becoming a deafening example of Kerala’s devotion to decibels.

No one is immune from this trend now. Chief Minister Pinarayi Vijayan recently was seen scolding his supporters, pausing his speech because the chenda melam refused to fall silent. On another stage, Opposition Leader VD Satheesan was visibly angry at the deafening celebratory crackers set off by his party members.

For once, the powerful seemed to taste the bitterness that ordinary residents are expected to endure around the year without protest.

In the coming days, the roads of Thiruvananthapuram will see loudspeaker towers sprouting up – placed randomly, regardless of hospitals and residential enclaves nearby. Music will begin days in advance and continue long enough for fatigue to replace devotion. Motley crews seem to believe that faith travels best through stacked amplifiers.

The law, however, is clear. Loudspeakers can operate only from 6 am to 10 pm. Sound in residential areas is capped at 55 dB during the day and 45 dB at night. Silence zones – near hospitals and schools – are meant to remain at 50 dB and 40 dB.

In plain terms, loudspeakers should not exceed the level of a loud conversation and should operate only within permitted hours. Special permission during events like Pongala does not suspend decibel limits.

Kerala does not lack regulation. It lacks enforcement.

Social media reflects what people have been talking about in their drawing rooms for a while. A Reddit user recently complained about a church near their residence that created such a racket on Sundays that studying and sleeping became difficult. Another wrote about a nearby mosque’s early morning prayer call disrupting the sleep of nearby residents.

The frustration cuts across communities. The grievance is not about faith. It is about volume.

The most visible sign of this impunity is the continued presence of bullhorn loudspeakers that courts had banned long ago. Walk through Kerala and they remain perched atop places of worship across denominations. The volume at musical concerts often has no limits, sending out thumps that reverberate through your body.

Meanwhile, the Indian Medical Association has repeatedly warned about the health impact of prolonged noise exposure – sleep disturbance, spike in blood sugar, impaired concentration in children and aggravated cardiac risk. Such exposure can cause spikes in blood sugar and increases in blood pressure, says Dr John Panicker, who heads the National Initiative for Safe Sounds (NISS), a collaborative platform of the IMA.

When doctors speak of cardiac stress, they are not debating theology. They are describing measurable physiological harm. Blood pressure and sugar do not distinguish between temple music, mosque announcements or political rallies.

Kerala often prides itself on being socially ahead of Uttar Pradesh. Yet on noise control, it is worth asking whether we are willing to match even that standard. Thousands of loudspeakers in temples and mosques were removed or had their volumes reduced following official directives under Yogi Adityanath. The question becomes more pointed in Thiruvananthapuram, where the city corporation is under the control of the Bharatiya Janata Party.

Setting up phone lines to complain and leaving police to face the music will hardly help. There has to be a political will to address the problem. Otherwise complaints will be acknowledged, files will be created, and the process will drag on – and the volume will remain unchanged.

As police and pollution control board pass this hot potato of cracking down on noise pollution between themselves, some volunteer groups are attempting to bring noise down to bearable levels through public participation. Kollam-based Manu AS, who runs NoisePollutionControl.org, says they have filed a request signed by several people with authorities in Thiruvananthapuram seeking compliance with the law.

The petition has been submitted through the K-Smart site and its progress is being tracked. For now, activists say, the file appears stuck at its starting point.

The district collector, meanwhile, has issued an order asking relevant departments to make sure voice pollution is monitored, but people on the ground says they are ill-equipped to implement this across the city.

Everybody knows there is an elephant in the room, but nobody wants to talk about it – especially in an election year. Meanwhile, the public endures the barrage in silence. Activists say even those who fume in private hesitate to register a formal complaint for fear of being labelled anti-religion.

Devotion is not the problem. Amplified dominance is. Silence from political leaders and religious organisations is louder than any loudspeaker. Unfortunately, most of us are following their example – by remaining mute.

© Mathrubhumi English