The late Mike Mehta once produced and directed a tiatr titled “Goem Vinklem Ghanttar” — Goa Sold to Outsiders.
How prophetic that title sounds today. Because even as Goans laid Mehta to rest, a Kannadiga migrant — whom we call a ‘ghanti’ — was demanding an Assembly ticket for Cortalim.
Let’s be blunt:
For us Goans, ‘ghanti’ was never meant to be an insult. It simply meant someone from across the ghats. But over time, that meaning has twisted — not because we changed it, but because the reality around us did.
Today, the ‘ghanti’ population has multiplied, and with it, the power they wield. Siddhanna Meti, president of the All Goa Kannada Mahasangh, has boldly asked his mentor — Panchayat Minister Mauvin Godinho — to grant a ticket to a Kannadiga candidate for Cortalim Assembly constituency. His reasoning? The migrant majority now decides who wins there.
How poetic — and tragic.
There’s an old saying: “A rose plant often bites the hand that weeds it.”
Godinho, who represents Cortalim, nurtured this very population — settling them in Sancoale and the neighbouring villages, ensuring their loyalty at the polls.
And now, the creation turns on the creator.
Let’s not kid ourselves: Goan politicians have always thrived on migrant votes.
From Margao to St. Cruz, Taleigao to Mapusa — this pattern repeats. Politicians like Digambar Kamat and Mauvin Godinho built their empires on this migrant vote bank.
Now those same migrants are demanding their pound of flesh.
We Goans saw the threat coming — but we chose denial over action.
Sancoale’s panchayat has long had migrant representatives. It even elected a sarpanch from the migrant community. There was a flicker of outrage online — and then silence. Just like always.
Meanwhile, Meti, the ‘ghanti’, is openly asking for a ticket. Why not? When we already have Ranes, Sawants, and Parabs — none of them truly Goan — ruling the roost?
Let’s call a spade a spade.
Pratapsing Rane, a non-Goan, held the Chief Minister’s chair for 19 years.
Pramod Sawant, current CM another non-Goan, carries the late Parrikar’s legacy.
Manoj Parab? Yet another outsider vying for Goan legitimacy.
Sawant says living here for 15 years makes one a Goan.
Parab claims anyone born post-1961 is automatically Goan.
Both are wrong.
Being Goan isn’t about residency or paperwork.
It’s in our DNA — our culture, our humility, our identity, our Goenkarponn.
Remember “Farar Far,” the Konkani classic by Lorna and Anthony San? It recalls the Ranes — mercenaries imported by the Portuguese who later rebelled. History has a cruel way of repeating itself.
Today, the same pattern emerges.
The ‘ghantis’ we allowed in, the ones our politicians cultivated, are now demanding their share of power.
This isn’t just politics. It’s the beginning of an identity crisis — the slow erosion of everything that makes Goa Goa.
So let’s be clear:
You can settle here. You can live here. You can even run for office.
But for Goans, a ‘ghanti’ will always be a ‘ghanti.’
And if we don’t wake up soon, Goem vinklem ghanttar won’t just be the name of a tiatr.
It’ll be our reality.
