The farmhouse at Porvorim which runs Goa
We cannot elect donkeys and expect stallions says Dr Joe D’Souza
Charles Darwin in his essays on Evolution had asserted: In the process of evolution, the fittest survive and propagate. Thus, the natural process of selection and elimination involves a process of adaptation and mutation to counter the forces of extinction which are directed towards inhibition and elimination.
I do not wish to delve into details on the finer aspects of evolutionary biology, but only wish to make a point that virulence, toxicity and aggressiveness are not the only ways by which the stronger species overcome and overpower their prey.
They can also achieve it by remaining passive, dormant or using the aggressive behaviour of the opponent to subdue or counter, which is also a very important trait employed in the battle of wits for survival. While the snake can be venomous and kill an aggressive tiger, a clever mongoose which is a far too small a creature, is able to kill the deadly snake.
I would like to reflect on these three years of Digambar Kamat’s rule as the Chief Minister of Goa using the evolutionary approach to the Goan political scenario.
A pessimist sees the glass half-empty; while the optimist considers the same glass as half-full. The glass of Digambar Kamat’s reign is 70 per cent full and now only 30 per cent of his five year term still remains to be completed. The three turbulent years of Digambar’s rule were threatening to overturn his cup of governance at least on two major occasions.
The farmhouse our elected representatives inhabit at the Goa Assembly complex has seen how 5-star hotels, the mining lobby and the drug mafia prosper and grow. Goa Assembly complex is devoid of those who exhibit the traits of the stately tigers, and the graceful lions. There are however a few who are faithful dogs, cats and horses, reared both by the major political parties and the Chief Minister himself. These have helped him survive and overcome the political turbulence during the last three and half years.
The common man of Goa is forced to accept all that happens at the farmhouse at Porvorim. There are those who are harsh and declare that Digambar is a chief minister whose rule is lacklustre and unproductive. The state of Goa, his detractors claim, is full of chaos, crime and corruption.
There are those others, who are generous and objectively state that the three years of Digambar’s rule were filled with concrete actions and decisions. Be it the stalling of the Regional Plan 2011, abolishment of the SEZs brought in by the Rane government, or the recently established Flying Squads, to bring down the growth of mega building projects, rampant hill cuttings and the destruction of our ecology. But, are they effectively functional? This is not easy to address.
Looking objectively under the ecosystem prevailing around the Goa Assembly complex, Digambar in my viewpoint assumes the role of the ‘humble mongoose’, taking cover under duress of the pestilence and the virulence, which is all around.
The Aam admi in Goa is not expecting much from Digambar Kamat, who is surrounded by the poisonous reptiles in Goa governance, who have paralyzed our society with crime, corruption and draining our public exchequer. Needless to say, if Digambar uses his ‘mongoose instinct’ to strike the poisonous snakes or against the political scorpions dominating the seat of power in Goa Assembly, the rodents in the farmhouse and the bulls in the Assembly complex, would gang up to ensure Digambar is eased out of his chair, causing even more havoc in Goa.
In the animal farm Digambar does not pose as a lion or a power hungry tiger, for he knows that he would soon be the victim of a bite or sting from lethal colleagues sucking the blood of the common man. Through sins of omission, commission and manipulation, Digambar survives.
Goans know full well about contractors giving commission for infrastructure projects and that illegal gratification is the order of the day in all ministries and government departments. Licenses are granted for a price whether it is mega projects, destruction of forest land, excise scams, illegal mining, power pilferage, health scams.
It is not about live and let live. It is about eating or cheating together as along as one does not cut off the hand that feeds you. For Goans, corruption is the way of life today. The big brother from Delhi often brokers stability for Goa through suitcase diplomacy, using the carrot and stick system to ensure discipline at the animal farm at the Assembly complex. The Aam admi is left watching the circus and paying for the shows with high taxes.
As you sow, so shall you reap; as you give, so shall you receive. You cannot expect donkeys to perform like stallions. We have elected those who live by corruption and expect Digambar to deliver mangoes on blades of grass. Come on Goans, be practical and realistic. University doctorates and High Priests are not representing you. Those who swear at or scream against Digambar Kamat should realize that you get the government you deserve. The Aam admi in Goa does not see beyond his home comforts.
Digambar’s has had to deliver steadily under stress and strain of a fractured mandate, under the dubious Congress framework where nominations for party tickets are based not on loyalty or performance, but on price.
Some may give Digambar bouquets for his three and half year rule. There are others who would shower him with brickbats, but I, in all humility, would encourage him to better his performance under serious constraints, threats and severe handicaps. We must learn to count our blessings and also appreciate the consequences of our own passive outlook. As Digambar rightly says, Goans do not want to pay parking fees in Goa, but once in Belgaum, they meekly pay Rs5 per hour.
As of today, we do not have the Regional Plan 2011. Would we have the dubious SEZs flooding Goa with hordes of migrants? The notorious camel in the MPT is still actively pursuing the goal of changing the face of Goan coastline and our traditional occupations. Digambar has played his role to retard the rate of degradation of Goa and reduce the adverse impacts in a limited way.
Goa is degrading slowly, but the aam admi too, is at fault. We are today in the Golden jubilee year of Goa’s Liberation. May I wish Digambar well that he may profitably use the funds released by the Centre to his government to help improve the quality of life of the people of Goa, which is deteriorating alarmingly in all aspects.
It has been a growing trend in Goa to condemn and criticize the government of the day, but to do precious nothing to stem the rot and offer a constructive approach. Give me blood and I will give you freedom was Netaji’s call to the nation, while the British were ruling India. Goa today requires sweat and blood and not a lackadaisical acceptance from Goans. Digambar Kamat would require support through positive actions of the common man directed towards saving himself from the growing menace inflicting our society without expecting the Chief Minister alone to deliver.
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The ‘Herald’ office
By Sajla Chawla
After three years of writing for Herald, I suddenly had this impulsive desire to go and meet the editor and the staff with whom I had been interacting only over email and telephone. What is Internet communication compared to actual human-to-human interaction? So I set out to connect with the Herald people, with mighty expectations of a warm welcome and a plush office.
First of all, my swank big office car did not fit too well on the tiny road where the Herald office is located. But in my zeal I persisted, and the car somehow squeezed in, like they do in Mario Miranda’s cartoons. I got out and entered. A befuddled security guard looked at me and made me feel I did not belong.
Presently, he gave directions and up I went to the second floor, panting. My perpetual sanguinity has often led me into great shocks. Yet I never learn. So I entered the Herald office with my best smile; which rapidly froze, gradually widened into open-mouthed shock, and then frowning dismay.
The office looked dilapidated. I felt it might crumble right under my feet and I might find myself back before the befuddled security guard downstairs. So I walked as gingerly, diffidently and softly as I could, lest I damage this well-worn structure; like an old stately woman with wrinkles and grey hair, who had once known youth and beauty. Whatever, but there I was, finally, in the Herald office, my desire fulfilled and rapidly getting satiated.
I saw one big hall with a long table along the wall on which several dusty old computers sat menacingly. Next to them were plastic chairs that too must have seen better days. There was no adornment – not a single picture or painting – on the walls. At several places the paint was peeling, and there were some unseemly cracks.
I saw the Editor’s small cabin, waved at him through the glass door, and he nodded at me to come in. He smiled. That was the first positive thing I saw in that building. He seemed quite sensible; a quick-witted and well-rounded personality. I guess managing a newspaper that is bold and fearless in its approach, which appears to be unbiased and has a certain broadness of perspective, is not a simple task.
I soon warmed up to him and, from his conversation, gathered he was very deeply interested in sailing. A sailor editor? That was a first! As he spoke, I was worried that the book cases behind him might fall on his head. All the while the old air-conditioner in the cabin made a continuous, rumbling sound, like an ancient steam engine.
He obviously did not find me as interesting, for he never offered me a cup of tea, not even considering the readership I had for my articles! Not even for the way I look! Well, I guess, maybe, that I need a new hairstyle…
Outside, I met the two ladies I had been interacting with on the phone. They were really warm and it was a pleasure to meet them. But again my mind wandered to the nondescript crumbling hall. I felt sad that the office of the largest-selling daily of the state was not in the best state.
I was sad for myself too. Because I would have to delete the plush, swanky picture that I had created of the Herald office in my mind, and replace it with… this! But then I realised these were rooted, humble, self-respecting people who had diligently, day after day, been the source of so much news, the flux of so many ideas and the ‘heralds’ of so much entertainment.
Even if today’s paper is tomorrow’s fish wrap, they have given me a chance at self expression that none of my highly paying corporate jobs ever did. Money, aesthetics, buildings, offices; they’re just structures. The essence is the people. The Herald people, anonymously, reach out to so many in Goa; the thousands who avidly read the newspaper every morning. Because of them, I have been able to touch so many people’s lives too. And I am grateful…
