The recent removal of Goa's infamous Art and Culture Minister Govind Gaude from the BJP-led government has sparked a storm of discussion across the state. On the surface, it appears to be a routine reshuffle, well within the constitutional prerogative of Chief Minister Pramod Sawant. But a closer look reveals a far more sinister reality—one that exposes the rot festering deep within the corridors of Goa's BJP regime.
For months, citizens and artists clamoured for Gaude's dismissal following the scandalous, shoddy renovation of the iconic Kala Academy. But Chief Minister Sawant shielded his minister, consistently blaming contractors and deflecting all responsibility. His unwavering support for Gaude raises one uncomfortable question: Why now? What changed?
The answer lies in a bombshell revelation that shook the BJP government to its core: Govind Gaude dared to accuse Chief Minister Sawant of corruption in the Tribal Welfare Department, which Sawant himself heads. When the opposition seized on these explosive allegations, Sawant found himself cornered, his image tarnished and his moral authority crumbling. And yet, instead of immediately sacking Gaude to assert his innocence, Sawant resorted to his usual tactic, outsourcing his discretion to instructions from his political masters in New Delhi.
This cowardly delay only proves one thing: Govind Gaude wasn’t fired for his incompetence or failures as a minister—he was axed for breaking the unspoken code of silence and daring to challenge the Chief Minister’s corruption.
But this is not an isolated incident. The rot in Goa's governance runs far deeper. Former Governor Satya Pal Malik, the very constitutional head of the state, publicly accused Chief Minister Sawant of direct corruption. Malik even brought his concerns to Prime Minister Narendra Modi, expecting accountability. Instead of confronting these grave charges, Sawant used his influence in Delhi to oust Malik—a blatant abuse of power that underscores the BJP’s willingness to suppress truth to preserve its stranglehold on Goa.
Pramod Sawant, a non-Goan parachuted into power by late Manohar Parrikar and the RSS, had the audacity to promise 'strict action' against corruption in 2024. But every passing scandal exposes his hollow rhetoric. If Sawant truly stands for clean governance, why not begin by investigating the allegations against himself?
The cash-for-jobs scandal stands as one of the most damning indictments of Sawant's leadership. This explosive controversy revealed the systemic rot within government hiring practices, leaving the administration humiliated and discredited. Under Sawant, governance in Goa has degenerated into organized looting—a brazen mockery of democratic principles.
The unlawful demolition of a house in Assagao, reportedly facilitated by collusion between politicians, police, and land sharks, further unmasked the nexus of corruption choking Goa. Former Director General of Police Jaspal Singh acting as an enforcer for powerful vested interests, laid bare just how compromised the state's institutions have become. When the heat started building he was packed to Delhi.
And then there is the murky case of former Chief Secretary Puneet Goel, hurriedly transferred to Delhi after revelations that he allegedly manipulated land-use designations to purchase prime property in Aldona. His swift transfer speaks volumes about the BJP government's desperation to sweep its corruption under the rug.
The pattern is undeniable: under Pramod Sawant's leadership, corruption has become institutionalized. Goa today is not governed; it is plundered.
Govind Gaude's ouster is not a victory for accountability—it is a warning. A warning that in Sawant's Goa, the real crime isn’t corruption—it’s exposing it. The Chief Minister has long since forfeited any moral right to continue in office. For the sake of Goa’s dignity and its democratic future, Pramod Sawant and his tainted cabinet must resign immediately.
Thursday, 19 June 2025
Tuesday, 10 June 2025
White Coats, Black Hearts: Goa’s government doctors must be held accountable. – By Nisser Dias
Since June 7, Health Minister Vishwajit Rane has been rightly slammed for his autocratic dressing down of Dr. Rudresh Kuttikar, the Chief Medical Officer at Goa Medical College (GMC). But while the spotlight has remained fixed on Rane’s conduct, it's high time we shift our focus to the other side of the story — the unchecked arrogance and systemic apathy displayed by government doctors, nurses, and medical staff at GMC and other state-run facilities.
Let’s not pretend any longer that these doctors are saints in white coats. On a daily basis, patients and their families are subjected to the same kind of high-handedness and rudeness from medical staff that Rane is being condemned for. The only difference? Doctors do it behind closed doors, under the guise of service, and often without witnesses.
Speak to anyone who has stepped into GMC or any government hospital in Goa — their stories are not of care and compassion but of distress, humiliation, and dehumanization. Patients are often treated like a burden, families like intruders. The government healthcare system, meant to be a safety net, instead feels like a battleground where dignity is the first casualty.
If one does not know a politician, a doctor or a nurse working in GMC or uses external influence, the patients and the relatives are treated like dirt by the same doctors. Take the most recent example: the Bicholim Health Centre has a board that reads “No Entry for Media Persons.” Who gave them the authority to shut out the press? This brazen display of overreach shows how emboldened government doctors have become. With Rane momentarily cornered, doctors now seem to think they are a law unto themselves.
And now, as if irony had a sense of humour, the Indian Medical Association (IMA) and the Goa Association of Resident Doctors (GARD) are up in arms, demanding a public apology from the minister himself — right inside the casualty ward. Not only that, they’re pushing for a slew of unreasonable demands designed to shield them from scrutiny and responsibility.
One of the demands is no VIP culture, ironically they bowed down to the requests of the CM who also is VIP.
Let’s not forget: these very same doctors, whether at GMC, urban clinics, or rural health centres, were educated and are salaried through public money — taxpayer money. Every Goan has contributed to their degrees and continues to fund their monthly salaries and perks. Their service is not a favour; it is a duty.
But what we’re seeing is a disturbing trend: an elite class of government doctors acting with the same entitlement and impunity as Goa’s notorious tourist taxi operators. Like the cabbies who bully tourists and refuse competition, these doctors want to control healthcare on their own terms — no questions asked, no answers given.
We made a mistake once by allowing the taxi mafia to fester unchecked due to political cowardice and vote-bank politics. Let us not repeat that blunder with the healthcare system. We cannot let a privileged few hijack an entire public service.
Accountability is not optional — it is non-negotiable. Government doctors are public servants. That title comes with responsibility, not immunity. If they expect respect, they must earn it through service, not demand it through threats, strikes, and entitlement.
To be absolutely clear: Goans are not asking for miracles. We are demanding humane treatment, transparency, and professionalism; the bare minimum any taxpayer deserves. It’s time government doctors come down from their pedestal and remember who they truly work for.
Let’s not pretend any longer that these doctors are saints in white coats. On a daily basis, patients and their families are subjected to the same kind of high-handedness and rudeness from medical staff that Rane is being condemned for. The only difference? Doctors do it behind closed doors, under the guise of service, and often without witnesses.
Speak to anyone who has stepped into GMC or any government hospital in Goa — their stories are not of care and compassion but of distress, humiliation, and dehumanization. Patients are often treated like a burden, families like intruders. The government healthcare system, meant to be a safety net, instead feels like a battleground where dignity is the first casualty.
If one does not know a politician, a doctor or a nurse working in GMC or uses external influence, the patients and the relatives are treated like dirt by the same doctors. Take the most recent example: the Bicholim Health Centre has a board that reads “No Entry for Media Persons.” Who gave them the authority to shut out the press? This brazen display of overreach shows how emboldened government doctors have become. With Rane momentarily cornered, doctors now seem to think they are a law unto themselves.
And now, as if irony had a sense of humour, the Indian Medical Association (IMA) and the Goa Association of Resident Doctors (GARD) are up in arms, demanding a public apology from the minister himself — right inside the casualty ward. Not only that, they’re pushing for a slew of unreasonable demands designed to shield them from scrutiny and responsibility.
One of the demands is no VIP culture, ironically they bowed down to the requests of the CM who also is VIP.
Let’s not forget: these very same doctors, whether at GMC, urban clinics, or rural health centres, were educated and are salaried through public money — taxpayer money. Every Goan has contributed to their degrees and continues to fund their monthly salaries and perks. Their service is not a favour; it is a duty.
But what we’re seeing is a disturbing trend: an elite class of government doctors acting with the same entitlement and impunity as Goa’s notorious tourist taxi operators. Like the cabbies who bully tourists and refuse competition, these doctors want to control healthcare on their own terms — no questions asked, no answers given.
We made a mistake once by allowing the taxi mafia to fester unchecked due to political cowardice and vote-bank politics. Let us not repeat that blunder with the healthcare system. We cannot let a privileged few hijack an entire public service.
Accountability is not optional — it is non-negotiable. Government doctors are public servants. That title comes with responsibility, not immunity. If they expect respect, they must earn it through service, not demand it through threats, strikes, and entitlement.
To be absolutely clear: Goans are not asking for miracles. We are demanding humane treatment, transparency, and professionalism; the bare minimum any taxpayer deserves. It’s time government doctors come down from their pedestal and remember who they truly work for.
Sunday, 8 June 2025
Rane’s authority crumbles: When arrogance meets its Master. – By Nisser Dias
The self-styled strongman of Goa’s health ministry had boasted of a two-year suspension. But when the dust settled, his bravado evaporated faster than the ink on the suspension order. What was meant to be a demonstration of power ended up as a spectacular self-goal, exposing Rane’s inflated ego and authoritarian impulse. After all the tough talk no apologies, no reconsiderations — Rane was forced to eat humble pie. He apologized to Dr. Kuttikar and his family. But let’s be clear: his apology wasn’t born from remorse. It was wrenched out of him by a tide of public outrage and stiff resistance from the medical fraternity. This was no change of heart — he was forced to retreat, an act of political survival, not contrition.
Is this the mark of a leader or the confession of a coward?
If Rane retains even a shred of self-respect, the only honourable path left is resignation. But that would require courage — something he has consistently failed to show. He’s good at throwing his weight around against government employees, but he folds like a house of cards when faced with the people of Goa or the authority of the Chief Minister in this particular case. Let’s not forget — this isn’t the first time Vishwajit Rane has backed down under public pressure. Flashback to 2019: Rane bulldozed a plan to bring an IIT to Shel-Melauli, grabbing 10 lakh square meters of land in his own constituency. When locals rose in protest, he unleashed police force. But the people didn’t flinch. Rane, seeing his plan fall apart, made a U-turn and claimed, “I am with the public.”
Sounds familiar?
The same script repeated with Pernem’s draft zoning plan — an outrageous attempt to turn 21% of the region’s green cover into concrete in the name of “development.” Again, the people stood up. Again, Rane ran. And again, he mouthed the same tired line: “I am with the public.”
Now, in a fresh episode of political theatre, he says he is “with the patients.” Today, he has apologized to Dr. Kuttikar. Tomorrow, he may issue another suspension. This isn’t leadership. It’s opportunism wearing the mask of public service.
But revoking the doctor’s suspension is just the surface. The deeper issue is the absolute unsuitability of Vishwajit Rane to continue holding the health portfolio — or any ministry, for that matter. His track record screams of overreach, arrogance, and repeated policy fiascos.
So why isn’t Chief Minister Pramod Sawant sacking him?
Because he can’t. Sawant, a CM in title but not in authority, has outsourced real power to Delhi. Everyone in Goa knows this. Despite holding constitutional discretion to drop ministers, Sawant is handcuffed by political compulsions and central diktats. He didn’t remove Cultural Minister Govind Gaude despite public allegations of corruption. Can he even dream of removing Rane? Highly unlikely.
What makes this more farcical is the open, simmering cold war between the two. Rane has never hidden his ambition to occupy the Chief Minister’s chair. At every turn, he attempts to undercut Sawant — painting him as weak, ineffective, and out of touch.
But in this latest episode, it’s Sawant who played the masterstroke. By reversing Rane’s rash suspension order, he not only reined in an unruly minister but also exposed the hollowness behind Rane’s chest-thumping.
Let this be a lesson to every leader who mistakes arrogance for strength and intimidation for governance: Power is not about ordering suspensions — it’s about earning respect.
And that, Minister Rane, is something you’ve lost.
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