The horrific blaze at Birch by Romeo Lane in Delhi that killed twenty five people was a reminder of how quickly entertainment spaces can turn into death traps when safety rules are ignored. The tragedy unfolded in minutes. The owners reportedly fled. The building had violations. And the young lives lost exposed a familiar truth. In India, public safety is often treated as an afterthought until catastrophe forces it back into the headlines.
If such a fire were to break out inside an offshore casino packed with several thousand people, the consequences could be unthinkable. Goa’s six offshore casinos float on the Mandovi River like glittering attractions, drawing crowds night after night. These vessels are essentially multi-deck, tightly packed commercial hubs that run around the clock. On weekends, they hold dense gatherings in confined interiors. Yet evacuation routes are limited. Emergency response on water is far slower than on land. And most importantly, the state has never publicly demonstrated that these floating structures can handle a major fire or mass emergency.
This is not an argument against casinos as a matter of morality. It is an argument about risk, regulation, and the right of every individual to enter a public establishment without gambling with their life. Offshore casinos are licensed to operate, and many provide employment and contribute to the local economy. But that is no substitute for strict oversight. What the Birch tragedy showed is that any place where crowds gather must meet the highest standards of fire preparedness. The question is whether Goa’s casinos truly meet them.
The glossy promise of luxury masks the fact that these are floating structures with all the vulnerabilities that come with operating on water. Firefighting equipment on board is only as good as the training of the personnel and the frequency of drills. There is no room for error. Once smoke begins to fill enclosed decks, panic spreads, exits choke, and people are trapped in minutes. Firefighters cannot drive up. Ambulances cannot reach instantly. A blaze on a river vessel is a nightmare scenario.
What makes the situation more worrying is the opaque nature of compliance. How often do offshore casinos undergo mandatory fire audits? Are evacuation drills conducted with real passengers? Has the state disaster management authority carried out independent, surprise inspections? Do emergency response boats have the capacity to evacuate thousands from multiple vessels simultaneously? Most importantly, are these reports made public?
The people of Goa have the right to know. When tens of thousands of locals work on these vessels and thousands more visit them daily, secrecy becomes its own risk. The Birch tragedy showed how hollow safety claims can be when enforcement is weak and profit comes first. Goa cannot allow such complacency to build up on the Mandovi.
There is also the larger question of political accountability. Casino regulation has always been a sensitive subject in Goa, entangled in debate, lobbying and political hesitation. Legislatures spend more time arguing over casino locations, advertising rules and entry restrictions than over safety infrastructure. Fire safety rarely enters the conversation unless an accident forces the issue. This silence is dangerous.
The state must immediately conduct a full safety audit of all offshore casinos through independent agencies, not internal committees. It must test evacuation protocols in real time. It must ensure that fire exits are not cosmetic features but functional, accessible routes. It must verify that onboard staff are trained for real emergencies. And it must publicise the findings so the public can judge whether these vessels are truly safe.
Casinos have embedded themselves into Goa’s economy and its nightlife. They are not disappearing overnight. But economic benefit cannot justify systemic neglect. A tragedy on the Mandovi would not only cost lives. It would shatter public confidence and leave lasting scars on a state already stretched by infrastructure pressures.
The Birch fire exposed more than one restaurant’s failures. It exposed a national attitude toward safety that is often casual until lives are lost. Goa still has time to learn from it. The state must choose transparency over secrecy, enforcement over convenience, and human life over commercial glamour. The stakes on the casino floor may be high, but the stakes outside it are far higher.
