It is with great pleasure I would like to announce that I am now a father. Both mother and child are fine. Thank you to anyone who sends their blessings and keeps us in their prayers. But as I hold my newborn in the sterile safety of the hospital room, looking out at the grey haze of Delhi, my joy is tempered by a terrifying reality. For the past few days, my world has shrunk to these corridors, and while awaiting this miracle, I have been haunted by what I see in the wards around me. I watch doctors rush to attend to newborns who are too small, too fragile, and struggling too hard for every breath.

I see parents, their eyes hollow with exhaustion, peering into incubators where their babies are fighting a battle they did not choose. It is a stark realization: in Delhi, our children are not just born into a polluted world; they are being shaped by it in the womb. The Silent Emergency in the Womb: We often talk about air pollution as a “winter menace” or a “respiratory irritant.” But standing here with my baby, I see it for what it truly is: an obstetric emergency. Recent reports and medical experts confirm what is unfolding before my eyes—air pollutants are crossing the placental barrier, impacting foetal development in real-time. The statistics are no longer just numbers on a page; they are the tiny faces I see in the nursery. Studies indicate a 70 per........

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