

On paper, Sambhar Lake is a sanctuary. It is a Ramsar-notified wetland and an Eco-Sensitive Zone protected for its ecological value. In winter, between 4,00,000 and 6,00,000 migratory birds descend here on their transcontinental journey. They carry no passports, but they deserve peace.
Yet this month, the skies above the lake told a different story.
Despite a government order prohibiting drone-flying inside the Sambhar wetland zone, unmanned aerial vehicles buzzed overhead, livestreaming a festival hosted directly in the core lake area (Jhapok Dam). The circular issued by the Office of the Deputy Conservator of Forests, Jaipur South, clearly states that drones, aerial filming and photography without written permission are illegal and punishable under sections of the Wildlife Protection Act, 1972. Still, the ban was treated like a suggestion rather than law.
The Sambhar Festival 2025 brought powerful sound systems into a fragile ecosystem. Noise readings reached 91.3 dB at 4:15 pm on 27 December 2025, equivalent to standing beside a busy road intersection. Flamingos do not carry noise-cancelling headphones. Their instinctive reaction is simple: fly away.
As a local birding enthusiast, I have noted that flocks expected to roost in the area have already shifted deeper into the wetlands since the event began. Anyone who watches the lake regularly can see the change. A landscape that once echoed with bird calls and rippling water has been replaced with speakers, staging and trend-driven photo shoots. Sambhar Lake never asked to become a drone-racing backdrop or an Instagram reel factory.
Independent ecological reviews and compliance reports to the National Green Tribunal (NGT) have already documented that Sambhar is one of the worst-rated wetlands in the country in terms of ecosystem condition. Poor water quality, disrupted hydrology, invasive vegetation, illegal salt extraction and unchecked anthropogenic stress have pushed this wetland close to ecological collapse. Against that backdrop, intensified disturbance through entertainment-oriented events is not harmless; it is harmful.
Eco-tourism is not meant to be a buzzword. It requires that nature benefit, not bleed. Globally, protected wetlands impose strict “sound ceilings” and enforce “no-fly zones” within at least 500 metres of roosting habitats. Sambhar, instead, witnessed loudspeakers, crowds and quadcopters hovering directly over flamingos while a state-issued order threatening fines and confiscation went unenforced.
The Wildlife Protection Act has teeth. The circular makes permits compulsory and authorises penalties and seizure of equipment. Yet on the ground, no enforcement vehicle was visible. No official intervened. The silence of implementation was louder than the speakers themselves.
This brings us to a critical question: For whom is this annual Tourism Department-driven event being organised?
If Sambhar is an ecologically fragile Ramsar site, then who is the beneficiary of these activities?
Is the event serving:
Ecological restoration of the lake and global conservation goals?
Or has it been engineered primarily for tourism revenue, commercial visibility and influencer-friendly aesthetics, while the lake itself pays the ecological price?
Until the government publicly clarifies what measurable benefit, conservation gain or community welfare outcome this event provides, the question remains unanswered. If the birds, the wetland and the ecosystem receive only stress and displacement — and only visitors receive entertainment — such activities cannot be justified under a public mandate.
It is important to state this clearly: the citizens of Sambhar are not anti-tourism. But tourism must put ecological interests first. A responsible celebration would place viewing decks outside the core zone, ban amplified sound within one kilometre of roosting areas, and replace drones and reels with binoculars and guided ecological experiences led by scientists and conservationists.
There is still time to course correct. Migratory birds will remain for another two months. Enforcement agencies can act, because the order already exists. What is missing is will.
If action is not taken, Sambhar risks becoming yet another landscape where nature exists only as a backdrop for human activity, not as a living protagonist.
Right now, flamingos are voting with their wings. Their message is clear.
Abhishek Vaishnav is a resident of Sambhar and a member of Wildlife Creatures Organization, a local non-profit
Views expressed are the author’s own and don’t necessarily reflect those of Down To Earth