ROSELLE M F SOLOMON
Time flies but never fails to leave its shadow behind. Just as much as the best memories of an accomplished person brings pain to one’s memories, so do those moments return to hark back many years later as a matter of pride in the deeds and accomplishments of the person who has departed this earthly space.
Vasco Figueiredo was no ordinary government officer. His work traversed every taluka of Goa. In each work space he left behind a deep-seated imprint. That is saying something remarkable for a person who was not necessarily on top of the pyramid of the bureaucracy. The top layer is often contended by success and glory which comes from success and achievement where it matters most- the work space where reality gets an option to find justice and corrective measures.
Vasco Figueiredo was inimitable and illustrious as a Mamlatdar. He seemed to know the law like the back of his hand so much so that he rarely had to look up those bulky law books to assure him that he was right in his decision making. For him justice without love was mere law. People referred to him as the ‘Peoples Mamlatdar’. No airs about him whatsoever. He was a simple man who anyone of any rank in the office could approach and expect to receive a fair-handed decision. Even Chief Ministers walked into his office preferring not to summon him into theirs. You could see respect written all over them when they walked into inquire about an imminent decision they had to make on a rough matter. Vasco had his handsome smile, and an even more sturdy answer. In the office, they would say of him: ‘But he knows it all. He never gets things wrong’.
Quite unusually, Vasco knew by instinct that serving at the level of Mamlatdar was the ultimate seat of influence in serving the people. At that level, he would say, nothing was too little to matter. On the contrary, the more insignificant it seemed, the more magnitude it assumed in Vasco’s eyes. In the upper echelons of power, it was elitist and Vasco abhorred that choice. What counted first and last was to serve those who needed him most. After all, he often asserted, why would he want to be in high places merely for status.
As a devout Catholic, he did not wear religion on his sleeve. His heart was where the people lived and to the weakest and poorest, he went the extra mile. It was as if he followed the principles of Antodya. To him that word did not belong to the Gandhian era. ‘Antodaya', to him, implied a pledge to handle their greatest felt needs and the rise and development of the last person in society. No gaps in these endeavours.
Service is a powerful provider of higher levels of happiness, fulfillment and meeting life’s needs that was far out of reach from the common person’s hands.
That was Vasco and a hundred anecdotes could be told about the ‘Peoples Mamlatdar’. It is a life to be followed by all those who saw him at work. To this day, his colleagues from the past, have their eyes lit up in awe just the mention of his name.
If this government and its officers had an identical vision and world view that rare officers like Vasco Figueiredo had (and we do have a few), Goa would witness effectual governance that one could deem as a marker and model to follow. For, in the final analysis, progress and governance are inextricably intertwined.
A year after his passing, we still recall and salute Vasco Figueiredo for his indelible contributions to Goan society.