Every time the monsoon rains arrive in Goa, they bring not only much-needed relief from the searing summer heat but also a stark and sobering reminder: nature is supreme. All the infrastructure we proudly showcase- roads, bridges, mega housing complexes, glassy commercial spaces – crumbles like a pack of cards when the earth decides to reclaim its balance.
In the last decade or so, we have witnessed an unprecedented spurt in development. Multi-crore projects have mushroomed in every corner of Goa.
Flyovers are built to ease congestion. New bridges span the rivers to connect towns and villages faster than ever before.
Entire hills have been flattened in the name of “progress,” and fields have been filled to create lucrative real estate. All this is showcased as the sign of a modern, forward-looking state.
But each monsoon asks us the same uncomfortable question: at what cost?
The floods in Guirim, the landslides in Paroda, the overflowing rivers in Sanguem – these are not random acts of God.
They are the consequence of a collective disregard for ecological balance.
For years, local communities and environmentalists have raised alarms about the reckless cutting of trees, the choking of natural drains and nullahs, the unscientific hill-cutting, and the filling of low-lying wetlands.
All these fragile natural buffers once worked silently to absorb excess rainwater, prevent soil erosion, and maintain the delicate balance between land and sea.
Yet in the race to make Goa “developed,” we bulldozed them in the belief that concrete could do better. Year after year, we have seen how that belief collapses, quite literally.
A freshly tarred road gives way under the force of water.
A massive retaining wall, constructed at great expense, slides down a hillside. Electric poles topple.
Homes flood. Families are displaced. And each time, we call it a “natural disaster” when, in fact, it is often the outcome of human arrogance and poor planning.
It is easy to be dazzled by the rhetoric of development. Political leaders love to flaunt numbers: billions of rupees allocated for infrastructure, hundreds of kilometres of highways built, lakhs of square meters of construction approved.
But rarely do they talk about the accountability of these projects when things go wrong. Rarely is there introspection on whether some of these roads and bridges were even needed at the scale they were built, or if the environmental clearances were truly above board.
No one disputes the necessity of development. Goa cannot remain frozen in time. Its people deserve good roads, reliable electricity, better transport, and housing.
But there is a crucial difference between development and destruction. Development that is inclusive and sustainable strengthens communities and ecosystems. Development that prioritises speed, greed, and showmanship weakens the very foundations on which life depends.
We are at a moment when the climate crisis is no longer some distant warning; it is here. Rainfall patterns are changing. Extreme weather events are intensifying. Sea levels are rising. In such times, continuing with the same short-sighted approach to infrastructure is not just irresponsible – it is suicidal.
The time has come for serious introspection. As citizens, we must ask ourselves: Do we want to inherit a Goa where the price of every highway is a flooded village? Where is the cost of every gated colony in the disappearance of a wetland? Where every concrete retaining wall that collapses endangers lives, livelihoods, and the very dignity of those who call this land home?
There is still time to course-correct. Development need not mean annihilation of natural systems. It can be planned with respect for the contours of the land, with drainage designs rooted in ground realities, and with strict accountability for environmental compliance. Projects must be vetted not just for economic feasibility but also for their impact on rivers, hills, and forests.
As we pick up the pieces after each monsoon onslaught, let us remember: no matter how many billions we spend on infrastructure, nature always has the final word. If we continue to ignore her warnings, she will keep reclaiming her space—one flood, one landslide, one disaster at a time.
It is time to rethink what true progress looks like—and to finally place respect for Mother Earth at the centre of all development.
