On September 7, 2026, Union Home Minister Amit Shah presented the President’s Colour to the Goa Police, honouring eight decades of service by the force, including its role in coastal security and protecting Goa’s vital tourism economy.
The President’s Colour is among the highest honours bestowed upon a police force. It represents service, discipline, professionalism, courage and commitment to duty.
Which is precisely why what happened barely a day later at Chinchinim raises some uncomfortable questions.
The assault on Chinchinim sarpanch Gerson Gomes, allegedly by villager Malcolm Pereira, is undoubtedly condemnable. No individual has the right to take the law into his own hands. An assault on an elected representative deserves the full attention of the law.
But the subsequent handling of the case by the Cuncolim police has left many asking whether it was befitting of a force that had just received the President’s Colour.
The assault reportedly took place in the afternoon, yet the FIR was registered only around midnight. The explanation was that the police had not received a complaint from the victim, who was hospitalised, or from the panchayat secretary, panch members or staff.
But does the police’s responsibility to act depend entirely on someone walking into the station with a complaint? The police have the power to take cognisance of a cognizable offence and initiate proceedings. Given the seriousness of the incident and the video evidence reportedly circulating, the delay was bound to raise questions.
Then came the hospital episode.
As demands for Pereira’s arrest grew, he reportedly admitted himself to a private hospital. Police personnel were posted there to detain him upon discharge. Yet, according to reports, he managed to escape under their watch.
That raises a very simple question: How does an accused person, whom police are reportedly waiting to detain, simply disappear?
Who was responsible for the deployment? Were the officers questioned? Was there a procedural lapse? Were the hospital authorities asked to explain how the accused was discharged? And, most importantly, has anyone been held accountable?
These are not merely political questions. They are questions of basic policing.
An honour carries responsibility
The President’s Colour is awarded to the force as an institution. It is therefore unfair to judge thousands of dedicated police personnel by the alleged failures of one station or a handful of officers.
But institutional recognition also brings institutional accountability.
Had this incident occurred at another time, it might have been dismissed as an unfortunate police lapse. Coming just a day after the Goa Police received one of the country's highest honours, the contrast is difficult to ignore.
An award is not simply a ceremonial flag to be displayed. It represents a standard the force is expected to uphold.
If there was a lapse, the police leadership must identify it. If personnel failed in their duty, action must follow. And if there was no failure, the public deserves to know how the accused managed to evade the police.
Questions have also been raised about possible political influence. That is a serious allegation and should not be treated as fact without evidence. But when delays and apparent procedural failures occur in a politically sensitive case, suspicion is inevitable. Transparency is the only credible answer.
The courts will decide the legal fate of the accused. He is entitled to due process and must be presumed innocent until proven guilty.
But the police must still answer for their own conduct.
Eventually, public attention will fade. The hearings will continue, the headlines will disappear and life will return to normal.
But one question may linger:
Did the Goa Police, in their handling of the Chinchinim assault, live up to the standards symbolised by the President’s Colour?
The President’s Colour is an honour.
The President’s Colour should not merely be something displayed on ceremonial occasions.
It should represent a standard.
A standard of discipline.
A standard of integrity.
A standard of courage.
A standard of accountability.
Living up to it is a responsibility.
Friday, 11 September 2026
Wednesday, 22 July 2026
You called the youth termites.. The real termites are busy hollowing out democracy – By Nisser Dias
Words matter, especially when they come from those occupying positions of political responsibility. That is why the alleged social media remark attributed to Goa BJP Vice President Narendra Sawaikar—"It's not just cockroaches: they are termites!"—has drawn widespread criticism. If the remark was indeed aimed at the hundreds of youth who gathered at Azad Maidan in Panjim in solidarity with students protesting in Delhi, it was not merely inappropriate; it was insulting, dismissive, and unbecoming of a public leader.
These young people were not protesting for personal gain. They had assembled to express solidarity with students demanding accountability over the NEET examination paper leak controversy and calling for the resignation of Union Education Minister Dharmendra Pradhan. Whether one agrees with their protests or not, they were exercising a democratic right guaranteed by the Constitution. They were protesting to safeguard their future which is being destroyed by the BJP. Branding such citizens as "termites" is a disturbing attempt to belittle legitimate dissent instead of engaging with it.
As an advocate, Sawaikar understands that democracy thrives on debate, criticism, and protest. The concerns raised by the youth are neither imaginary nor frivolous. Repeated allegations of examination paper leaks have shaken public confidence, leaving lakhs of students and their families anxious about the integrity of India's education system. When young people demand accountability, they deserve answers—not insults.
If anyone should be concerned about the metaphor of termites, it is the BJP itself. After all, termites do not destroy a structure overnight. They weaken it from within, silently eating away at its foundations until the damage becomes impossible to ignore. That analogy fits BJP far better when applied to institutions that have steadily lost public trust than to young Indians raising their voices.
Critics of the BJP argue that over the years, key democratic institutions have been weakened, public confidence has eroded, and political polarization has deepened. They point to controversies surrounding demonetisation, repeated examination paper leaks, the perceived misuse of investigative agencies, and increasing questions about institutional independence, not forgetting the embezzlement of Lord Ram temple funds. Whether one agrees with every criticism or not, these are serious public issues that deserve discussion — not ridicule.
Calling the youth "termites" turns reality on its head. The youth are not consuming the nation's foundations; they are demanding that those foundations be repaired. They are asking for transparent examinations, accountable governance, and institutions they can trust. They are trying to preserve the future, not destroy it.
If the termite metaphor is to be used at all, many would argue it is the conduct of the BJP's political machinery that invites such comparison. According to its critics, it is not protesting students but political actors who weaken institutions for partisan advantage who resemble termites—eroding public faith from within. The allegation is that the real damage comes from those who allow corruption, shield failures, and dismiss legitimate public anger instead of addressing it.
Goa itself has not been immune to these concerns. Environmental degradation, pressure on natural resources, concerns over governance, and allegations about declining public accountability have become recurring themes in public discourse. Many Goans fear that unchecked political power, rather than citizen activism, poses the greater threat to the state's future.
Perhaps what unsettles some political leaders is not the protest itself but what it represents. The gathering of youth at Azad Maidan was more than a demonstration over one examination controversy. It reflected growing frustration among a generation that feels its future is being compromised by administrative failures and political indifference. Dismissing that frustration with insults only widens the disconnect.
History has repeatedly shown that societies progress because young people question authority, challenge injustice, and demand reform. Every generation that enjoys democratic freedoms today owes a debt to young citizens who refused to remain silent. To label today's youth as "termites" is therefore not only unfair—it is an insult to the democratic spirit itself.
The real question is not whether the youth are termites. They are not. The question is whether those who undermine institutions, erode public trust, and weaken democratic accountability are doing precisely what termites do—eating away at the nation's foundations from within.
If the BJP wishes to answer its critics, it should do so through transparency, accountability, and better governance—not by demeaning the very young citizens whose confidence it seeks to win. India's youth deserve respect, not ridicule. And in a democracy, those who speak truth to power should never be treated as pests.
These young people were not protesting for personal gain. They had assembled to express solidarity with students demanding accountability over the NEET examination paper leak controversy and calling for the resignation of Union Education Minister Dharmendra Pradhan. Whether one agrees with their protests or not, they were exercising a democratic right guaranteed by the Constitution. They were protesting to safeguard their future which is being destroyed by the BJP. Branding such citizens as "termites" is a disturbing attempt to belittle legitimate dissent instead of engaging with it.
As an advocate, Sawaikar understands that democracy thrives on debate, criticism, and protest. The concerns raised by the youth are neither imaginary nor frivolous. Repeated allegations of examination paper leaks have shaken public confidence, leaving lakhs of students and their families anxious about the integrity of India's education system. When young people demand accountability, they deserve answers—not insults.
If anyone should be concerned about the metaphor of termites, it is the BJP itself. After all, termites do not destroy a structure overnight. They weaken it from within, silently eating away at its foundations until the damage becomes impossible to ignore. That analogy fits BJP far better when applied to institutions that have steadily lost public trust than to young Indians raising their voices.
Critics of the BJP argue that over the years, key democratic institutions have been weakened, public confidence has eroded, and political polarization has deepened. They point to controversies surrounding demonetisation, repeated examination paper leaks, the perceived misuse of investigative agencies, and increasing questions about institutional independence, not forgetting the embezzlement of Lord Ram temple funds. Whether one agrees with every criticism or not, these are serious public issues that deserve discussion — not ridicule.
Calling the youth "termites" turns reality on its head. The youth are not consuming the nation's foundations; they are demanding that those foundations be repaired. They are asking for transparent examinations, accountable governance, and institutions they can trust. They are trying to preserve the future, not destroy it.
If the termite metaphor is to be used at all, many would argue it is the conduct of the BJP's political machinery that invites such comparison. According to its critics, it is not protesting students but political actors who weaken institutions for partisan advantage who resemble termites—eroding public faith from within. The allegation is that the real damage comes from those who allow corruption, shield failures, and dismiss legitimate public anger instead of addressing it.
Goa itself has not been immune to these concerns. Environmental degradation, pressure on natural resources, concerns over governance, and allegations about declining public accountability have become recurring themes in public discourse. Many Goans fear that unchecked political power, rather than citizen activism, poses the greater threat to the state's future.
Perhaps what unsettles some political leaders is not the protest itself but what it represents. The gathering of youth at Azad Maidan was more than a demonstration over one examination controversy. It reflected growing frustration among a generation that feels its future is being compromised by administrative failures and political indifference. Dismissing that frustration with insults only widens the disconnect.
History has repeatedly shown that societies progress because young people question authority, challenge injustice, and demand reform. Every generation that enjoys democratic freedoms today owes a debt to young citizens who refused to remain silent. To label today's youth as "termites" is therefore not only unfair—it is an insult to the democratic spirit itself.
The real question is not whether the youth are termites. They are not. The question is whether those who undermine institutions, erode public trust, and weaken democratic accountability are doing precisely what termites do—eating away at the nation's foundations from within.
If the BJP wishes to answer its critics, it should do so through transparency, accountability, and better governance—not by demeaning the very young citizens whose confidence it seeks to win. India's youth deserve respect, not ridicule. And in a democracy, those who speak truth to power should never be treated as pests.
Wednesday, 3 June 2026
Political hibernation season ends as elections approach, BJP agents surface – By Nisser Dias
Hibernation, it appears, is not a phenomenon restricted to frogs, bears, and other creatures of the wild. In Goa, it has become a well-established political survival strategy. Few exemplify this better than Churchill Alemao and Francisco alias Mickky Pacheco, who, after years of near-total political silence, have suddenly awakened to the unmistakable scent of approaching elections.
For years, both leaders remained largely absent from the political frontline. Yet, as election season inches closer, they have emerged from their prolonged slumber with renewed enthusiasm, eager to reclaim relevance in a political landscape that may have already moved on without them.
Churchill Alemao's latest political manoeuvring is particularly noteworthy. After spending considerable time criticizing the Congress, extending support to the BJP, and singing praises of Chief Minister Pramod Sawant, he is now reportedly sending signals that he wishes to return to the Congress fold. Such dramatic political reversals have become so commonplace that they barely raise eyebrows anymore. In Goa's politics, yesterday's enemy often becomes today's indispensable ally, but deep inside a BJP agent.
Mickky Pacheco's journey has been no less fascinating. Throughout much of his active political career, he positioned himself firmly against the Congress. Yet when electoral prospects demanded it, he attempted to cozy up to the very party he had spent years opposing, seeking a Congress ticket. When that effort failed, he reverted to a familiar script - launching attacks against the party, publicly criticizing it, and resigning from the membership he had conveniently acquired while pursuing a ticket.
In recent years, Pacheco has also managed to find a place within Chief Minister Sawant's political orbit. However, despite this proximity, he continues to offer unsolicited advice to the Congress through what often appears to be a willing and ever-available media platform. One could almost mistake him for an unofficial Congress strategist, except that he has no formal association with the party.
His latest intervention saw him advising the Congress to replace GPCC President Girish Chodankar, warning that he would otherwise refuse to support the party. It was a curious declaration, considering support is generally offered by allies rather than by political outsiders issuing public ultimatums. Yet another BJP agent.
The reality, however, is that both Alemao and Pacheco are widely perceived by their critics as spent political forces whose electoral influence has significantly diminished. There is a growing belief that either would struggle to make a meaningful impact at the ballot box and could even risk forfeiting their deposits if they chose to contest.
More importantly, critics argue that both leaders function, directly or indirectly, as BJP agents. Their renewed interest in the Congress, according to this view, is not motivated by ideological alignment or political conviction but by a desire to weaken the party from within. The concern is not merely about entry into the Congress but about the possibility of influencing decisions, securing tickets, and eventually benefiting the BJP's broader electoral strategy.
Alemao's political trajectory is often cited in support of this argument. He supported the BJP while facing the Luis Berger case and was subsequently discharged by the court. Critics contend that political debts rarely disappear and that the BJP now expects its own return on investment. The alleged objective, they argue, is simple: infiltrate the Congress, secure tickets for himself and his daughter, and if circumstances permit, once again shift loyalties in favour of the BJP.
His record certainly provides ample material for political scrutiny. As the lone NCP MLA elected in 2017, he supported the BJP throughout its tenure. Then, in 2022, he contested on a TMC ticket while simultaneously attempting to forge an alliance with the Congress. Few politicians have demonstrated such flexibility in political affiliations while maintaining a straight face.
The Congress, for its part, has repeatedly accommodated and rehabilitated Alemao over the years. Yet at 77, many observers believe his political relevance has steadily faded since the 2022 elections. Rather than seeking yet another comeback, critics suggest he should gracefully continue his retirement from active politics instead of repeatedly asking both the Congress and the electorate for one more opportunity.
Pacheco's political career has similarly remained on the margins following his conviction for assaulting a Kadamba Transport Corporation driver. Having spent a prolonged period outside mainstream politics, his recent attacks on the Congress have surprised many observers, particularly given his lack of any formal alliance with the party.
His demands have gone far beyond criticism. Not only has he called for the removal of GPCC President Girish Chodankar, but he has also threatened to launch a third front or even float a new political party altogether. Such declarations generate headlines, but many view them as little more than political theatrics designed to maintain visibility.
Behind the rhetoric, critics believe the real objective remains unchanged: secure entry into the Congress, influence its internal dynamics, and ultimately tilt the political balance in favour of the BJP.
As election season approaches, Goa's political wildlife has clearly emerged from hibernation. Whether voters welcome these familiar faces back into public life or simply view them as relics of a bygone political era remains to be seen. One thing, however, is certain—the timing of their sudden awakening is unlikely to be mistaken for a coincidence.
For years, both leaders remained largely absent from the political frontline. Yet, as election season inches closer, they have emerged from their prolonged slumber with renewed enthusiasm, eager to reclaim relevance in a political landscape that may have already moved on without them.
Churchill Alemao's latest political manoeuvring is particularly noteworthy. After spending considerable time criticizing the Congress, extending support to the BJP, and singing praises of Chief Minister Pramod Sawant, he is now reportedly sending signals that he wishes to return to the Congress fold. Such dramatic political reversals have become so commonplace that they barely raise eyebrows anymore. In Goa's politics, yesterday's enemy often becomes today's indispensable ally, but deep inside a BJP agent.
Mickky Pacheco's journey has been no less fascinating. Throughout much of his active political career, he positioned himself firmly against the Congress. Yet when electoral prospects demanded it, he attempted to cozy up to the very party he had spent years opposing, seeking a Congress ticket. When that effort failed, he reverted to a familiar script - launching attacks against the party, publicly criticizing it, and resigning from the membership he had conveniently acquired while pursuing a ticket.
In recent years, Pacheco has also managed to find a place within Chief Minister Sawant's political orbit. However, despite this proximity, he continues to offer unsolicited advice to the Congress through what often appears to be a willing and ever-available media platform. One could almost mistake him for an unofficial Congress strategist, except that he has no formal association with the party.
His latest intervention saw him advising the Congress to replace GPCC President Girish Chodankar, warning that he would otherwise refuse to support the party. It was a curious declaration, considering support is generally offered by allies rather than by political outsiders issuing public ultimatums. Yet another BJP agent.
The reality, however, is that both Alemao and Pacheco are widely perceived by their critics as spent political forces whose electoral influence has significantly diminished. There is a growing belief that either would struggle to make a meaningful impact at the ballot box and could even risk forfeiting their deposits if they chose to contest.
More importantly, critics argue that both leaders function, directly or indirectly, as BJP agents. Their renewed interest in the Congress, according to this view, is not motivated by ideological alignment or political conviction but by a desire to weaken the party from within. The concern is not merely about entry into the Congress but about the possibility of influencing decisions, securing tickets, and eventually benefiting the BJP's broader electoral strategy.
Alemao's political trajectory is often cited in support of this argument. He supported the BJP while facing the Luis Berger case and was subsequently discharged by the court. Critics contend that political debts rarely disappear and that the BJP now expects its own return on investment. The alleged objective, they argue, is simple: infiltrate the Congress, secure tickets for himself and his daughter, and if circumstances permit, once again shift loyalties in favour of the BJP.
His record certainly provides ample material for political scrutiny. As the lone NCP MLA elected in 2017, he supported the BJP throughout its tenure. Then, in 2022, he contested on a TMC ticket while simultaneously attempting to forge an alliance with the Congress. Few politicians have demonstrated such flexibility in political affiliations while maintaining a straight face.
The Congress, for its part, has repeatedly accommodated and rehabilitated Alemao over the years. Yet at 77, many observers believe his political relevance has steadily faded since the 2022 elections. Rather than seeking yet another comeback, critics suggest he should gracefully continue his retirement from active politics instead of repeatedly asking both the Congress and the electorate for one more opportunity.
Pacheco's political career has similarly remained on the margins following his conviction for assaulting a Kadamba Transport Corporation driver. Having spent a prolonged period outside mainstream politics, his recent attacks on the Congress have surprised many observers, particularly given his lack of any formal alliance with the party.
His demands have gone far beyond criticism. Not only has he called for the removal of GPCC President Girish Chodankar, but he has also threatened to launch a third front or even float a new political party altogether. Such declarations generate headlines, but many view them as little more than political theatrics designed to maintain visibility.
Behind the rhetoric, critics believe the real objective remains unchanged: secure entry into the Congress, influence its internal dynamics, and ultimately tilt the political balance in favour of the BJP.
As election season approaches, Goa's political wildlife has clearly emerged from hibernation. Whether voters welcome these familiar faces back into public life or simply view them as relics of a bygone political era remains to be seen. One thing, however, is certain—the timing of their sudden awakening is unlikely to be mistaken for a coincidence.
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