https://www.heraldgoa.in/Edit/By-invitation/Adeus-Panjim/195251
Earlier this week, lifelong Panjim resident and Travel & Tourism Association of Goa office- bearer Jack Sukhijia – he is named for his grandfather, the ‘Father of the Opinion Poll’ Jack Sequeira – posted on Facebook: “Have heard statements from the camps of two powerful ministers today that the casino industry is too powerful to take on, and can do what they wish in Goa. Hope this is not a hands-up to surrender more of the Panjim riverfront to them, starting with the real estate which was earlier leased to the Mandovi [Hotel] as an event space and restaurant.” Sukhijia was writing in the wake of startling new encroachments, and an irresponsible blitzkrieg of tree-felling, dune-razing devastation on the heritage waterfront of Panjim, with no oversight or accountability whatsoever. Just one horrific example: almost all the ferry ramp was already gifted – no one can say how and why – to the floating gambling dens, but now that space is fronted by building-sized roadside neon “hoardings”, that blind drivers coming from Azad Maidan. No responsible authority could possibly approve this deathtrap, but here it blazes with impunity next to police headquarters. Track up from that point, and it is only casino, casino, casino, with the deep disgrace of lurid come-hither directly facing the statue of Bhausaheb Bandodkar. Head the other way towards Aguada, however, and that is where bulldozers are concentrating: many trees felled, and huge quantities of stone and rubble extending an unwanted, environmentally devastating concrete promenade through Campal Creek, past Kala Academy, and – now building directly on sands – onwards to Miramar and ahead to Dona Paula. Whose priority? What permissions? How can this be done without any consultations? We have no answers, because this is how things are now in Goa. Our neighbourhoods – and, indeed, our selves – are being brutally violated, but what is even worse is being told we like it. It’s an absolute crisis of democracy. Can public sentiment be so thoroughly suppressed? As the senior city resident Arun Baba Naik put it in his comment on Sukhijia’s post: “Let us reconcile ourselves to the fact that casinos here have the backing of the supreme power of the nation. Can we therefore oppose it without the fear of being labelled as urban naxals? Let's be frank.” Sukhijia’s reply had an unmistakable echo of his revered namesake: “Sir, it does not matter who calls us what as long as our conscience is clear. No power, however large, can foist something on someone else against their wishes and will. I am sure that the supreme power can be convinced with the right messaging not to take over more of our city’s beautiful land, or push more ugly defunct boats in the Mandovi. The problem is if the gatekeepers between us and the supreme power themselves think the casinos are ones to do business with.” The next day, Sukhijia elaborated to me: “It is sad, frustrating and mind-boggling to see what I consider to be the most beautiful promenade in India rendered into what at night looks like a cheap, chaotic strip joint. Around two decades back, we had a chance to head towards being a cultural capital by utilizing our heritage. Manohar Parrikar began promisingly, with the refurbishment of the Old Goa Medical College. But since then, we have headed straight to disaster. At this point, we absolutely have to ensure that casinos do not take over our city completely. Besides everything else, it’s bad economics to put all your eggs in one basket, especially one which crowds out other ways of being, and everything we value about Panjim.” Sukhijia broke the problem down nicely: “One of the side effects of our democracy is that there are so many interest groups, who do not see beyond their narrow interests, that a politician is often bewildered and panicky about making decisions (having said that, this is a fate they themselves have brought on, by choosing the path of least resistance). There’s also the cyclical nature of new masters, so new projects, rather than simply maintaining and managing an already beautiful natural and built infrastructure. In addition, we have a bloated and oversized government with negligible interdepartmental coordination, and different bodies working at cross purposes.” Is there any way out of this mess? I wrote to Vinayak Bharne, the born-and-bred Panjimite, who is an urbanist and professor based in Los Angeles (and new Honorary Advisor to Vishwajit Rane’s Town & Country Planning department). He responded that “for me, the idea of shaping the future of a town or city should be a collaborative negotiation between diverse interests - economic, political, cultural, environmental. We absolutely need economic engines of various kinds, but exactly how much, and where, and in what form, are questions that need to be deliberated collectively. My hope is that such a process will begin in Goa, and soon. It will help in two ways: first, to get everyone's opinions heard, and second, to help generate strategies by which existing economic engines can contribute towards the larger good of the city. If economic forces focus only on themselves, that's one thing. If they, on the other hand, also focus on augmenting daily life in the city for all, not just a few, that's a whole other thing.” In response to the photo that accompanies this column, Bharne said that “Goa's is a "monsoon urbanism"; This does not just mean plenty of rain. Intrinsic to this is Goa's ecology of rivers, riverbanks, canals, creeks, and fields that are part of a larger regional hydrology within which settlements must be planned. In many ways, concrete is the antithesis of a monsoon urbanism, because the last thing we want in monsoon cities and towns is more hardscape. Monsoon settlements need to be porous, allowing the water to percolate, flow and replenish the hydrology in natural ways. Concretizing river banks etc. began as myopic and utilitarian engineering solutions in the industrial era, when natural elements were being treated as dead commodities. In those times, ecological knowledge was not as deep as it is now. Climate change was not even an issue. But it is now - and we cannot ignore it. We know enough about the debacles of past trends, and there are numerous examples across the world that have reversed such trends. Goa definitely needs investment and work on its riverbanks, but there are progressive ways of thinking about such places as "soft edges," and living ecologies, with flora, fauna and public space that can be a wonderful amenity for the local community. In short, it will cost the same amount of money, but if we shift our perspective on what such efforts can be, everything can change.” Bharne says “Panjim has to embrace change and growth. This is a natural process. The question is: Is this growth ad hoc or monitored? Is it being decided by a few or is it emerging through a reflective collective discourse? In Panjim, we may have different opinions of what it ought to be, and we must embrace them all. But taken together, they must amount to making a wonderful town to live in - this is what the science of town planning is all about. For example, there may be parts where the built inheritance should be zealously (and I mean zealously) conserved. There may be other parts where the rules are laxed. But in both cases, aspects like public space, public life, mobility, infrastructure and environmental concerns cannot and should not be compromised. I, for one, strongly feel that Panjim urgently needs a robust Open Space Plan. And an equally robust Infrastructure Plan. We need to focus first on Panjim's beautiful network of squares, streets, creeks - and bring them alive. We need to address its mobility and parking problem. We need to address its flooding problem. This comes first. Then we can talk about other issues.”
