The curious case of the contaminated carton
A PIL filed before the Apex Court poses a moral dilemma for our legal structures: whether to trust the youth and their discretion, or to meddle with what they can and cannot consume from tetrapacks.
20 Apr 2026 | 170 Views | By Anand Singh
An apex court bench recently rejected a Public Interest Litigation (PIL) challenging the sale of wine in tetrapacks in Uttar Pradesh (UP). The petitioner was instead asked to take the matter up with the competent UP state authority– an oxymoron I shall choose to not address further, lest we deviate from the original, much more fascinating story here.
The petitioner-advocate argued against an alleged gap in UP’s excise policy permitting the sale of liquor in tetrapacks. She alluded to the tetrapack’s accessible, easy-to-carry, and deceptive nature, claiming it would make it easier for children to carry liquor to school. Few things to un-pack here: the tetrapack has rarely gotten its due as the packaging wonder it is on the floor of the SC; we at WhatPackaging consider this a great win, I would like to believe ease-of-use and carrying comfort are not the only things keeping school-age children from consuming liquor, and why would the child in this scenario carry the tetrapack to school? One’s own bedroom would be a far more comfortable environment for this activity, in my opinion as a former child.
In the petitioner’s defense, juice/beverage cartons are seen as more than just efficient packaging in the Indian market. They are closely connected to the very identity of these FMCG products, to the point where some people I know wouldn’t buy buttermilk if it didn’t come in a deceptively healthy-looking carton, with big splashes of green and white. This is also where the regulatory rigmarole turns existential. Another bench flagged tetrapack packaged liquor as "dangerous" in a November 2025 trademark dispute between two distilleries. The presiding judge himself, at that time, mistook a sample carton for juice.
In light of this information, the onus can perhaps be put on the relevant food safety authorities to solve the issue. If they can ban misleading “100% claims” on fruit juice because the product might contain insidious inorganic ingredients, surely the presence of pure ethanol in a child-friendly carton demands a similar metaphysical banishment. It is the ultimate deceptive B2C product, far more insidious than the banned misleading Oral Rehydration Solution (ORS) beverages that were ordered removed in November 2025, or the elusive "analogue paneer" that requires a special milk logo to differentiate it from non-dairy products. It seems that in over 3.9 lakh inspections and 1.6 lakh samples analysed by the authority in FY26, the true danger lies not in the 17.16% of non-conforming samples, but in the packaging.
A packaging expert we spoke to, who was drunk (on power), said, "It’s a classic low-hanging fruit trap, as warned about in plastic regulation, where simple solutions are offered for complicated problems." Expecting state excise departments or food safety authorities to deal with the issue adequately would be the red-tape equivalent of sending a telegram into the void, and asking for an answer from a busy babu–already busy with the complex, dynamic shifts in High in Fat, Sugar, and Salt (HFSS) definitions, the mandate for greater plastic waste traceability, and the task of tightening testing rules amidst public scrutiny.
So the tertapack issue, which began as a simple trademark clash, has caused kalesh. Between FSSAI guidelines, the proposed star ratings, the exemptions for B2B packs, the MoUs and the future of our desh ke yuva!
And now, the fate of the nation’s youth rests on a piece of packaging that could be mistaken for a glass of Lassi. The only solution? Perhaps a warning label, cautioning: "This Truth May Possibly Be a Lie."