The cough syrup tragedy is a damning indictment of India’s drug regulation system — one crippled by negligence, corruption, and official apathy
It seems that as everything gets expensive in the country the only thing losing its value is life. People die due to official negligence, apathy, and rampant corruption, yet no one is held accountable and no one is ever punished. After a few fleeting headlines, the tragedy fades from memory, conveniently swept under the carpet — bridges collapse, trains derail, buildings crumble, spurious liquor, adulterated food and what have you plays havoc with the people’s lives — the perpetrators thrive while the authorities look the other way. The latest cough syrup tragedy is just another incident in this long list and a case in point. This is not for the first time that Indian cough syrup has killed people. Earlier too, 70 people died in Africa after being administered with Indian made cough syrup, this time it is in the heart of the country, Madhya Pradesh. Fourteen children are dead due to toxic cough syrup. Their only mistake: trusting a system meant to protect them. The “Coldrif tragedy” in Madhya Pradesh’s Chhindwara district — where 14 children, most under four years of age, died after consuming a contaminated cough syrup — is not merely a local incident; it is a national disgrace. Each death exposes a fatal mix of negligence, corruption, and systemic apathy that continues to plague India’s drug regulation apparatus. The cough syrup, Coldrif, manufactured by Tamil Nadu–based Sresan Pharmaceuticals, contained diethylene glycol (DEG) — a toxic industrial solvent often used as an adulterant to cut costs. Shockingly, this is not an isolated episode. India has witnessed at least five similar DEG-related tragedies in the last two decades.
The State Government response is predictable find a scapegoat and brush it under the carpet — blaming one negligent doctor or one rogue manufacturer would be far too convenient. The rot runs deeper — in a system where quality control is casual, enforcement is weak, and accountability is rare. The Drugs and Cosmetics Act, though stringent on paper, is poorly implemented. State drug inspectors are few and often under pressure; many lack modern laboratories for real-time testing. Pharma companies, especially small-scale manufacturers, exploit this vacuum by cutting corners. The licensing authorities too often act as mute spectators — issuing approvals without ensuring compliance or routine audits. The result is a parallel market of spurious and substandard medicines that quietly infiltrate rural pharmacies and small-town hospitals, where regulatory oversight is weakest. Equally culpable is the slackness of government machinery in preemptive vigilance. If the contamination was detected only after multiple deaths, it means the testing and surveillance system failed at every stage — from manufacturing to distribution. To stop such heinous crimes, India needs pharmaceutical accountability rooted in transparency and technology. If this tragedy does not compel India to overhaul its broken drug surveillance system, what will. How many more such tragedies to wake the Government from its deep slumber.
