There comes a point when doing nothing to stop the wrongs makes us complicit in the wrongdoing. And in Goa, that point has long been crossed. Everywhere you look, it feels like everything we cherish, is falling apart. Look at our infrastructure, our tourism image, our environment, and even our collective conscience. Everything there is questionable. The rot is no longer just visible; it’s palpable.
Take a drive into Goa’s interiors. What greets you is not the surreal beauty of the monsoon, but mutilated roads that resemble cratered warzones. The same roads are repaired year after year, and yet they develop potholes just as quickly. It’s almost comical, if not tragic.
We’ve got roads that would give the moon’s surface a run for its money. And instead of fixing the real issues, we pin the blame on the monsoon. Poor rain, which has fallen on Goa for millennia, always becomes the scapegoat for our shortcomings.
Take a drive into Goa’s interiors. What greets you is not the surreal beauty of the monsoon, but mutilated roads that resemble cratered warzones.
But rain too is a victim. A victim of climate change, which we through greed, negligence, and blind consumerism have caused. The seasons are shifting. The rains are less predictable and more violent. Yet we show no urgency. No reflection. No change in behaviour. We haven’t just scarred the earth; we’ve even confused the skies.
And then there’s tourism, our so-called golden goose. Once the pride of our economy and culture, tourism in Goa is now on a dangerous freefall. Whenever the opportunity arises, we launch branding exercises and fly to international tourism expos to position Goa as a premium destination.
But back home, the ground realities never seem to change. They seem to be caught in a whirlpool of chaos. For example, a new video by a well-known media outlet in Goa showed a boy and a girl, yes tourists, filming a video (looks like a lungi dance) on a narrow Fontainhas street in Panjim.
The tourists' disruptive antics were so over the top, that even a dog couldn’t stand it. The infuriated animal – looked like a domesticated one – charged at them, forcing the startled pair to pause, clearly scared.
The irony is stunning. We try to craft a classy image of Goa, inspired by its heritage, its cuisine, its music, its slow life. But those very qualities are constantly being trampled by a wave of tourists who treat this place like a joke.
The irony is stunning. We try to craft a classy image of Goa, inspired by its heritage, its cuisine, its music, its slow life. But those very qualities are constantly being trampled by a wave of tourists who treat this place like a joke.
Drunken brawls on the beach and the streets, garbage strewn after every sundown, reckless driving that causes accidents, noise pollution, and an utter lack of respect for the local customs. This isn’t tourism; it’s vandalism wearing a holiday shirt.
We’ve reached a stage where many Goans, frustrated and weary, are beginning to ask: would we be better off without these tourists? It’s a valid question. But then comes the uncomfortable truth, the cash registers need ringing, especially since foreign tourist arrivals have dropped.
Many of the Scandinavians who once flocked to Goa have stopped coming, repulsed by the filth and chaos. They grew up in cleaner environment, so getting repulsed by Goa was no surprise. But do we even acknowledge their absence? No. Instead, we make do with whoever shows up, including busloads of unruly domestic tourists.
We’ve reached a stage where many Goans, frustrated and weary, are beginning to ask: would we be better off without these tourists? It’s a valid question.
We should be evolving. Instead, we are devolving into a chalta hai circus. The state, despite its potential, is gaining notoriety as a place where anything goes. At one point, the government had floated the idea of making tourists sign behaviour bonds to ensure they act responsibly. That idea may have vanished just as quickly as it came like so many others. Maybe it's lost in a cloud of apathy, bureaucracy, and fear of backlash.
Why are we so scared to enforce order? What are we protecting, if not the very soul of Goa? A state that lets its systems decay in the name of hospitality, what can we call it? Careless? You don’t let guests destroy your house just because they’re guests. Do you? If you don’t discipline the few, you lose the many.
Let’s not forget that during the two long years of the Covid-19 pandemic, tourists vanished. But Goa didn’t collapse and we didn’t die. In fact, for a brief moment, something magical happened. The beaches were clean. The air felt lighter. The roads were safer. Nature flourished. It was proof that we don’t need toxic tourism to survive. We need mindful, respectful tourism to thrive.
The real tourists we should be catering to are the ones who respect our culture. We must welcome the ones who want to soak in the art, the cuisine, and the susegad lifestyle. They are out there. They’re watching us. Waiting and hoping we will clean up the mess. But they will not come as long as we continue to tolerate those who create nuisance.
So here’s a message to whoever is reading or listening. Please wake up. Stop appeasing. Stop hesitating. Enforce the laws. Crackdown is the word, whether it's noise pollution, drunk driving, encroachments, or garbage dumping. Regulate tourism with a spine, not just slogans.