“Parra Panchayat has reminded us that resistance is possible. By putting strict curbs on construction—limiting buildings to two storeys, refusing arbitrary changes in zoning, and rejecting projects that burden already fragile infrastructure—Parra has taken a stand that is both courageous and necessary. Just as important, it has moved to protect the things that truly make a village what it is: its water bodies, its heritage trees, its Portuguese-era homes, and the fragile balance between people and their land. Decisions will now be made with the involvement of experts and, most importantly, with the blessing of the gram sabha. This is self-governance in its truest sense.
Parra p’yat shows the way to protect identity
Goa is a place that lives in the heart before it lives on a map. It is the rhythm of church bells at dawn and temple drums at dusk, the laughter of children running through fields, the smell of rain on red soil, the sight of coconut palms swaying against the sky. For generations, our villages have held this essence together—quiet, rooted, proud of their traditions yet open to the world. But today, this identity is slipping away, threatened not by outsiders who love Goa, but by reckless projects that see our land only as a commodity to be bought, sold, and built upon.
Everywhere you look, the change is stark. In once-sleepy villages, massive gated complexes rise where fields once lay. Narrow village lanes, meant for bicycles and bullock carts, now choke with traffic from luxury villas. Groundwater levels sink as borewells are drilled without restraint. Garbage piles up, sewage lines overflow, and the simple rhythms of village life are disrupted. What we are watching, silently in many cases, is not just “development.” It is the slow unravelling of Goa’s soul. And yet, there is hope.
Parra Panchayat has reminded us that resistance is possible. By putting strict curbs on construction—limiting buildings to two storeys, refusing arbitrary changes in zoning, and rejecting projects that burden already fragile infrastructure—Parra has taken a stand that is both courageous and necessary. Just as important, it has moved to protect the things that truly make a village what it is: its water bodies, its heritage trees, its Portuguese-era homes, and the fragile balance between people and their land. Decisions will now be made with the involvement of experts and, most importantly, with the blessing of the gram sabha. This is self-governance in its truest sense.
What Parra has done should not be seen as an obstacle to progress, but as an act of preservation. True development is not about multiplying floors of concrete but about strengthening communities. What good are more apartments if there is no water to drink? What use are luxury resorts if the village youth cannot afford a roof over their heads? Goa does not need towers scraping the sky; it needs policies that ensure its children will want to stay here, work here, and raise their families here.
Critics will say these restrictions will stifle economic growth. But whose growth are we speaking of? Certainly not that of the average Goan family. The profits of mega projects rarely trickle down to villagers; instead, they push up land prices, making it impossible for locals to buy homes in their own villages. The real cost is borne not by developers but by the ordinary people who live with depleted wells, broken roads, and a cultural landscape that feels less and less like home.
This is why Parra’s example matters far beyond its boundaries. It shows us that a panchayat does not have to bow to the pressure of builders or politicians. It shows us that villagers, when united, can shape their own future. And it reminds us that Goa’s beauty is not something we can afford to gamble with. Once gone, it cannot be reclaimed.
The choice before us is painfully clear. Either we act now to protect our villages, or we watch silently as Goa becomes indistinguishable from any other overbuilt coastal strip in India. Do we want to hand our children a state where the fields are covered in cement and the rivers are polluted beyond recognition? Or do we want to pass on to them a Goa that still breathes, still sings, still feels like home?
Parra has lit the first spark. The flame must spread. Every panchayat in Goa should take inspiration and adopt policies that protect land, water, and heritage. Every citizen must raise their voice in the gram sabha, in the streets if necessary, and tell those in power that Goa is not for sale. Silence is complicity.
What is at stake here is not just development policy. It is who we are, as Goans. It is whether the soul of our villages will survive, or whether we will become strangers in our own land. We still have time to choose. The question is: will we find the courage to act?
