Every year, as the summer passes and the weather changes it direction from hot light-filled skies to a darker version of grey, I feel a familiar tightness in my chest as I step outside my house. As the grey sky shrouds the city, and the sun rays barely reach us through the haze, it becomes evident that once again Lahore is trapped in the most dangerous season – smog.
Growing up in Lahore, I have always had a complicated relationship with the city. It’s my home filled with stories, history, and a vibrant culture. But in recent years, with the dense smog covering Lahore like a shroud, my beloved home has become a place where breathing has started to feel like a privilege.
I still remember the day I noticed smog for the first time. Two years ago, on a cold November morning, I was on my way to college with my brother on the bike, bundled up in a huge jacket and a scarf to tame my flying hair. The roads were barely visible a few feet and my eyes stung within minutes of getting out of my house. By the time I reached campus, my eyes were blood red and I was coughing uncontrollably.
As soon as I entered class, within minutes of our professor arriving, he told us that Lahore had officially been ranked as the most polluted city in the world on the Air Quality Index. When I checked the number myself, the AQI was a staggering 480! Anything above 300 is hazardous and we were actually breathing in poison – still do.
Smog is not just a weather condition but it is a thick deadly mist that consists of vehicle emissions, industrial pollutants, crops burning, and dust. As winter approaches and the winds settle, the air settles resulting in these pollutants settling in the air that we breathe. The result? My beloved Lahore shrouded with a thick grey veil.
What’s worse is that my younger brother who has asthma becomes the smog’s first victim every season. His inhaler becomes his constant companion which makes me realize that how helpless I am as a sister while he struggles to breathe in his own home. It also gives me a broader realization that people who have respiratory issues are struggling ten-folds compared to people like me.
According to the Pakistan Medical Association, respiratory illnesses see a surge of over 40 percent during the smog season in Lahore city. Schools are closed while hospitals overflow with patients but the unfortunate part is that it has become the ‘new normal’ for the city’s residents.
Additionally, it’s not just about health anymore. The smog cloud not only weighs on the city but also the spirit of its residents. I’ve always found comfort in walking through the streets of Lahore, be it my quiet society streets, the historic streets of old Lahore, or the bustling streets of Liberty Market. The roadside chai, chaats, and dhabas give a sense of belonging that nowhere else does but amidst this smog, it becomes a season of self-isolation and the subsequent gloom that sets on the city and its people.
It affects the mood, routine, and even relationships Every plans becomes conditional where I hear most of my friends say (I do too), “Lets meet if the smog isn’t too bad.” “Lets make another plan, the smog is intense.” I have cancelled more get-togethers be it for study purpose or just having a good time with friends and family due to smog than I can count. Sometimes when I look out of the window, I do wonder: will it always be like this? Grey skies and breathing becoming an act of caution. Is this my city’s future? My future?
Over the past five years, living in Lahore has felt like breathing through a gas mask. In 2021, I remember the AQI shooting up to 680 in some areas. By 2023, Lahore topped global pollution charts with PM2.5 levels nearly 20 times above the WHO limit. Then came 2024—it was terrifying. AQI in parts of the city crossed 1,900. Hospitals overflowed; over 55,000 eye infections and 6,000 respiratory issues were reported in just one week. Almost 1.8 million people in Punjab were affected. It’s not just statistics anymore—it’s our everyday air, and it’s getting harder to live with.
The big question here is what is the cause of this wretched smog that has trapped Lahore? These causes include vehicular emissions, crop burning, brick kilns, factories, construction and dust.
With no proper public transportation system Lahore is flooded with vehicles, farmers in Pakistan (and India) burn leftover crop residue, brick kilns run on outdated technology releasing pollutants unchecked and unregulated construction have all resulted in massive smoke, dust, and pollutants been released in the air. We know who the culprits are but there is still barely any accountability. Where are the solutions?
To be fair, there have been actions taken on-and-off by the Punjab government to battle the aggressive smog season. The government imposes bans on crop burning, brick kilns are shut down temporarily or converted to zigzag tech. An emergency was also declared once but given the mass scale the issue has engulfed Lahore (and even Pakistan’s major cities), these actions are no long preventative but just a reaction to the smog season. There is barely any long-term planning. And most of all, the topic of pollution remains secondary while politics has always taken center stage.
As much as I would love to pin the entire blame on the government, we – the residents of Lahore – are also part of the problem. Even I am guilty: taking unnecessary car rides, burning garbage once without thinking. But what’s important is that we can change, small acts do matter. I have started to carpool more, planted indoor purifying plants and have been raising awareness through my social media. It may not change the AQI overnight, but at least it starts the conversation.
Smog in Lahore is more than a seasonal nuisance – it a large-scale crisis. This grave issue not only demand policy changes but also a cultural shift to be able to combat it properly. The city needs better public transport system, cleaner energy, stronger regulations, and most of all, awareness amongst its residents. Its time everyone that loves Lahore came together to get our blue skies back, to make sure our city’s children play outside again.
Let’s fight for our air – together.
