The pattern that emerges from a decade of coverage in Bharat’s leading English‑language outlets is not accidental. From 2016 to 2026, at least 12 major media organisations have systematically framed Holi through the lens of danger, disease, environmental damage and public‑order risk, even as the same platforms, in the same season, portray Ramadan almost exclusively as a holy, healthy, serene month of fasting, spirituality and charity. This asymmetry is not about data or science; it is about narrative. It reveals a deeper ideological bias in which a Hindu festival is repeatedly medicalised and problematised, while an Islamic month of intensive ritual slaughter, mass food consumption after dark, and long‑hour dry fasting in hot climates is romanticised and cosmetically “health‑washed”.
The Holi–Ramadan Double Frame: A Decade‑Long Pattern
Across the 12 case studies, Holi is overwhelmingly presented as a threat that must be contained, managed or moralised against. Synthetic colours are described as toxic, carcinogenic and organ‑damaging; water use is framed as irresponsible in a drought‑hit country; crowds are linked to viruses and contagion; sweets are depicted as diabetic hazards. India Today’s 2026 Holi piece, for example, warns that synthetic gulal carries heavy metals and industrial dyes, citing doctors who list risks ranging from rashes and conjunctivitis to serious respiratory distress, especially for asthmatics and pregnant women. It stresses that “Holi 2026 will see streets covered in bright gulal” but that these powders “often carry hidden health risks,” including chemicals like mercury and chromium that may affect kidneys, liver and even unborn babies. Similar cautionary language appears across other outlets’ Holi advisories, from concerns over heatstroke and dehydration to warnings about infections from contaminated water.
Ramadan, by contrast, is wrapped in soft-focus spirituality. India Today’s 2025 explainer calls it the Islamic “holy month” and focuses on worship, charity, community and cultural practices, describing daily fasting from dawn to sunset and communal iftar gatherings, but without corresponding medical scrutiny of prolonged food and water deprivation in hot conditions or of late‑night feasting patterns. Articles in other outlets similarly spotlight the “spiritual significance” of Ramadan, the “science‑backed” benefits of fasting, and the supposed metabolic, digestive and mental‑health advantages, while ignoring the industrial‑scale animal slaughter associated with Eid menus, the metabolic stress of binge‑eating at night, and the clear risks for people with diabetes, kidney disease, ulcers or cardiovascular vulnerabilities.
This bifurcated framing is not a neutral editorial choice. It shapes public perception: Holi becomes something to endure with caution, Ramadan something to admire and emulate. One Hindu festival is policed, the other religious period is praised. The radical asymmetry reveals a deeper Hinduphobic tilt in how festivals are hierarchised and moralised in elite discourse.
Case‑by‑Case: How Each Outlet Splits Its Lens
The Times of India lays out the pattern with stark clarity. In March 2024 it ran “Holi Heat Hazards: Safeguarding against heatstroke and dehydration during festive celebrations,” foregrounding “potential dangers of heat‑related issues” during Holi and urging readers to prioritise safety. The article is full of emergency‑room language—heat stroke as an “acute emergency” that can lead to coma and death, risks amplified by outdoor crowds, dancing and water fights, along with lecture‑style exhortations to hydrate, avoid peak sun, use organic colours and minimise water wastage. The tone is almost disciplinary: Holi is joy, but it is also danger to be tightly managed. Yet when Times of India turns to Ramadan in “Ramadan 2025: Healthy fasting habits to follow,” it switches to celebratory wellness framing—“healthy fasting practices,” “benefits of fasting,” guidance on how to make Ramadan fasting “healthier”—without parallel emphasis on dehydration risk, electrolyte imbalance, or the strain of day‑long fasting in the very same climatic conditions. The same environment, same heat, same bodies; radically different editorial instincts.
India Today’s Holi–Ramadan pairing is even more glaring. Its Holi 2026 warning piece frames colours almost as industrial pollutants invading the body, stressing that many powders contain heavy metals and carcinogenic dyes, with dire scenarios of eye damage, lung irritation, internal organ risk and fetal harm. The emphasis is not just on precaution but on fear, with repeated reminders that “there is no safe colour” among synthetic options and that contact lens users, asthmatics and pregnant women are especially at risk. Yet the same brand’s Ramadan 2025 coverage under “Everything you need to know about fasting, traditions & celebrations” talks of Ramadan as unifying Muslims “in a ritual of daily fasting” and a time of “increased worship, religious reflection, charity and good deeds,” describing abstention “from all food and drink – not even a sip of water” as a sacred discipline setting the stage for festive iftars and community bonding. There is no symmetrical interrogation of health hazards, no quotes from doctors warning kidney patients, diabetics or pregnant women, no mention of nocturnal overeating, and no ecological or ethical lens on intensified meat consumption. Holi is science and fear; Ramadan is piety and culture.
Business Today provides a newer corporate‑style example of the same split. In February 2026, the outlet published “Holi health alert: The hidden health risks of synthetic Holi colours,” summarising doctors’ concerns about toxic dyes, heavy metals, skin damage, and respiratory irritation, framing synthetic gulal as a threat that can “harm skin, eyes and lungs” and advising safer alternatives. Just two days later, it released “From Ramadan tables to research labs: The date’s quiet power play,” a glossy visual story about dates as a “nutritional powerhouse” consumed during Ramadan, highlighting supposed heart‑protective antioxidants, anti‑cancer phenolic acids, bone‑strengthening micronutrients, memory benefits, cholesterol improvements, gut‑friendly fibre and iron support, all couched in seductive language about “desert fruit” and “secretly fighting cardiovascular wear and tear.” The Ramadan‑adjacent food item is thus elevated into a superfood symbol of wellness, while Holi’s core element—colour—is pathologised.
The Indian Express executes a similar contrast using diet. Its Holi piece “How to control blood sugar while having Holi treats” focuses on the dangers of festive sweets, urging restraint to avoid spikes in blood sugar and framing Holi consumption as a hazard zone for diabetics. Yet in its Ramadan‑themed “6 foods for better digestion during Ramadan,” the same outlet cheerfully recommends specific foods to soothe digestion during fasting, positioning Ramadan eating patterns as something to support and optimise rather than question. Health advice for Holi is about reducing indulgence; advice for Ramadan is about enhancing religious fasting.
The Hindu’s coverage draws a dividing line between biomedical anxiety and spiritual romance. “Ahead of Holi, understanding the impact of colours on skin health” warns that many Holi colours contain artificial dyes and heavy metals that may cause skin irritation and allergic reactions, stressing “the need for safer alternatives” and encouraging readers to be cautious about what touches their skin. In contrast, “Ramzan begins as Muslims unite in fasting, spiritual reflection” focuses on unity, devotion and introspection as Ramadan begins, describing Muslims coming together in fasting and prayer but omitting any discussion of health risks or of large‑scale non‑vegetarian feasts, meat demand and slaughter that accompany iftar and Eid. Holi is a dermatological risk event; Ramzan is an elevated spiritual season.
The Quint sharply juxtaposes ecological guilt for Holi with metabolic praise for Ramzan. “Holi 2024: 7 Tips To Celebrate Eco‑Friendly Holi” exhorts readers to avoid harmful colours, plastics and chemical products, reduce water use, and protect animals and the environment, effectively framing Holi as an environmental problem that must be re‑engineered into a low‑impact, low‑joy version of itself. But in “7 Amazing Health Benefits of Ramzan Fasting Everyone Must Know,” the same platform gushes that fasting improves metabolism, blood sugar regulation, insulin sensitivity, fat breakdown, brain function and mood balance, presenting Ramadan as a health booster rather than a practice that can be risky for vulnerable individuals if mismanaged. Again, the Hindu festival is something to curtail and discipline; the Islamic month is something to celebrate and emulate.
Scroll applies the political‑ecology lens to Holi while narrating Ramadan as pure spirituality. In its 2016 piece “As India gets ready for Holi, a reminder of our dire water problems,” it connects Holi to droughts in Haryana, Bundelkhand, Marathwada and Mahbubnagar, highlighting repeated crop failures and severe water shortages, thereby converting a cultural festival into a symbol of resource irresponsibility. Yet in “Roza, Ramadan, Ramzan: There is more to the month of fasting than how it is spelled,” Scroll focuses on the religious and spiritual dimensions of Ramadan—the meaning of roza, variations in pronunciation, cultural richness—without any equivalent ecological critique of food waste, meat production or nighttime energy use. The same logic of asymmetry repeats: Hindu festivals become scapegoats for structural failures; Islamic observances are immunised from scrutiny.
The Telegraph’s Holi reporting in 2016, under headings like “Play Holi with tilak, save water,” explicitly pushes for water‑free or minimal‑water Holi as an ethical necessity, urging readers to protect future resources and praising “tilak Holi” as a crusade for conservation. But its Ramadan 2026 photo feature, “Ramadan ushers in a month of fasting, worship and charity for Muslims, in photos,” offers only warm imagery of fasting, prayer and charity, with no mention of meat consumption, resource use or ethical concerns around intensive animal slaughter for festive menus. Holi is “reformed” in the name of ecology; Ramadan is left untouched, presented only as aesthetically holy.
Mint reinforces the pattern through pandemic‑era fear on one side and metabolic enthusiasm on the other. Its Holi‑linked piece on “H3N2 virus infection in India: How to stay safe while playing Holi” turns the festival into a vector for infection, embedding expert warnings about influenza symptoms, crowd risks and the need for social distancing, masking and hygiene. Holi here becomes a public‑health problem requiring behavioural restraint. But in “Ramadan fasting 2026: Bengaluru‑based doctor explains how your body burns fat for energy,” Mint highlights how the body shifts to burning stored fat, improves insulin sensitivity and adapts metabolically during Ramadan fasting, with no detailed caution for those with co‑morbidities. Once again, a Hindu festival is paired with viral risk; an Islamic practice is paired with metabolic benefit.
Hindustan Times’ dual lens is equally telling. “Holi 2025: The hidden dangers of waterborne infections; doctor shares tips to prevent” warns that contaminated water during Holi can lead to cholera, typhoid, hepatitis A, gastrointestinal infections and skin and eye problems, quoting internal medicine experts who describe outbreaks linked to unsafe water used in Holi celebrations. The article stresses that water balloons and unhygienic sources are dangerous, effectively moralising Holi play as a health hazard. But in “Benefits of intermittent fasting during Ramadan 2025: Everything you need to know for complete physical transformation,” the same outlet highlights improved insulin sensitivity, blood sugar regulation and body composition as benefits of fasting, framing Ramadan as an opportunity for “complete physical transformation” without balanced discussion of risks for high‑risk groups.
CNBC‑TV18 extends the eco‑restriction theme. “Holi without water? 6 ways to celebrate, eco‑friendly style” calls for limiting traditional water use, promoting an “eco‑friendly” Holi with less water, fewer balloons and more restrained celebration. In a parallel piece, “Fasting during Ramadan: Understanding the spiritual and health benefits of the holy practice,” it describes Ramadan fasting as “holy” and focuses on spiritual growth and health benefits, without any interrogation of the ethical or environmental implications of Ramadan‑related food practices and slaughter. The asymmetry is stark: Hindu practice is to be curtailed; Islamic practice is to be affirmed and valorised.
Mid‑Day completes the set. Its Holi editorial “Have a safe Holi and ensure everyone else does, too” emphasises strict safety measures, calls for penalties for water balloon incidents, and urges extreme caution with colours, essentially framing Holi as a public‑order and public‑health risk that must be policed. Yet in “Dry fasting doubles detox speed: Expert guide to fast during Ramadan,” Mid‑Day repeats the popular wellness trope that dry fasting “doubles detox speed,” praising Ramadan‑style dry fasting for boosted metabolism, improved dietary discipline and sustained energy, again with little attention to who may be harmed by such extreme practices.
Taken together, these 12 cases show a consistent editorial reflex. When the subject is Holi, the default register is risk, guilt, danger, regulation, and “how to play less, how to consume less, how to avoid harm.” When the subject is Ramadan, the default register is reverence, wellness, spirituality and cultural richness, with almost no structural critique of slaughter, meat consumption, or potential harm to vulnerable bodies.
Ideological Bias, Animal Ethics and the Silencing of Hindu Concerns
The selective framing is not just about “health journalism”. It reveals whose sensibilities the media is willing to offend and whose it is careful to protect. Synthetic Holi colours and water balloons are indeed legitimate subjects of health and environmental concern. Heavy metals and industrial dyes are dangerous; contaminated water can spread typhoid, cholera and hepatitis; extreme heat does raise the risk of dehydration and heatstroke; viruses do spread more easily in crowded gatherings. But if these risks justify constant Holi‑season advisories, it is intellectually and ethically dishonest to pretend that Ramadan is free of systemic problems.
Every year, millions of animals are slaughtered during and around Ramadan and Eid to feed nightly feasts and special menus. Industrial animal agriculture, transport and slaughter raise profound ethical issues as well as environmental costs, from water use and methane emissions to waste management and zoonotic risk. Yet in mainstream coverage, the only time animals appear in Ramadan stories is as dishes on “vibrant” iftar tables or as part of a “lavish spread of delicacies,” never as sentient beings subjected to large‑scale killing. Articles that eagerly scold Holi revellers for wasting water remain silent about the water footprint of the meat industry that underpins much of Ramadan feasting.
Similarly, prolonged dry fasting in hot climates can be gruelling for the elderly, pregnant women, people with diabetes, kidney disease, ulcerative conditions, or cardiovascular issues. Medical literature on Ramadan fasting acknowledges a spectrum of risks and recommends exemptions or modifications. Yet popular media representations overwhelmingly focus on “detox,” “fat‑burning,” “metabolic flexibility” and “spiritual clarity,” echoing wellness marketing more than balanced health reporting. If Holi sweets are fair game for finger‑wagging, so are Ramadan’s sugar‑laden desserts, deep‑fried snacks and heavy meat dishes—which routinely escape similar criticism.
This asymmetry feeds into a larger Hinduphobic narrative in which Hindu festivals are treated as problems to be managed—no crackers on Diwali, no water on Holi, no jagran noise, no temple gatherings during pandemics—while non‑Hindu observances are handled with kid gloves, bathed in approval and stripped of controversy. The effect is cumulative: it normalises suspicion and guilt around Hindu cultural expression while constructing other religious practices as untouchable, quasi‑sacred zones beyond secular critique.
Towards Honest, Even‑Handed Coverage of Festivals
A truly “secular” and ethical media culture would treat all religious and cultural festivals with the same set of questions:
It would ask about health risks and benefits for Holi and Ramadan alike, interviewing doctors not only about synthetic colours and contaminated water but also about long‑hour dry fasting, late‑night binge‑eating, and vulnerable populations during Ramadan. It would interrogate environmental impacts consistently, weighing water balloons and pichkaris against the massive resource footprint of industrial meat production and festive slaughter. It would consider animal ethics as a serious moral issue across all traditions, not just when stray dogs or street animals are splashed with colour but also when millions of farm animals are killed for celebratory feasts. And it would reflect spiritual and cultural significance for everyone, writing about bhajans, kirtans, temple rituals and community bond‑building during Holi or other Hindu festivals with the same warmth and respect it accords to taraweeh, iftar and Eid prayers.
Such even‑handed coverage would not mean suppressing criticism of harmful practices in Holi or any other Hindu festival. It would mean expanding the circle of scrutiny instead of selectively narrowing it to Hindu spaces. It would mean rejecting double standards in which the same sun and heat are a crisis for Holi but a mere backdrop for Ramadan, the same water systems are a moral issue for colour play but irrelevant for meat production, and the same bodies with the same vulnerabilities are infantilised as reckless during Holi and flattered as disciplined during Ramadan.
Until Bharat’s mainstream media is willing to apply one honest standard across all faiths, patterns like the cases above will continue to expose an underlying prejudice: a willingness to pathologise Hindu festivals while sanitising or glorifying Islamic ones. Calling out that asymmetry is not bigotry; it is a demand for intellectual integrity and genuine secularism.
Reference: A Profiling of 12 Major Hinduphobic Indian Media- Criticizing Holi and Praising Ramadan
