All Religions Are Equal to Me: God Is One, Though We Call Him by Different Names

All Religions Deserve Equal Respect: God Is One, Though We Call Him by Different Names

​By John Aguiar

​How many times have we fought in the name of religion? How many lives have been lost, how many families have suffered, and how much hatred have we spread simply because we belong to different faiths? After all, we are born into a religion, but we often forget that humanity comes before religious identity.

​After death, will we find a separate heaven and hell for every religion? Will God ask us which religion we belonged to before deciding our fate? Or will we all ultimately arrive at the same destination?

​These are questions worth pondering.

​A Personal Reflection on Faith and Family

​I was born into a Christian family. My father was Christian, while my mother belonged to the Gaud Saraswat Brahmin (GSB) community. My wife, Savita, is Hindu, and our children are Hindu too. Yet, I have never considered my religion superior to theirs, nor have I ever felt that their religious beliefs make them different from me.

​I am a Christian because I was born into a Christian family. Had I been born into a Hindu, Muslim, Sikh, or any other religious family, I might have followed that faith instead. My family, upbringing, surroundings, and circumstances shaped my religious identity. I did not choose the religion into which I was born.

​So, why should I look down upon another person because that person follows a different faith?

​I respect Christianity, Hinduism, Islam, Sikhism, and every religion that inspires people to live with love, compassion, truth, and kindness. For me, every religion deserves equal respect, and no human being should be judged merely by the faith they practise.

​Our religious identity may tell the story of our upbringing, but it does not determine the worth of our character. A person's humanity cannot be measured by the religion they follow.

​Recognizing Differences While Embracing Unity

​Let us distinguish between two entirely different concepts: respecting all religions and claiming that all religions are identical.

​Each faith has its own unique theological foundations, scriptures, and doctrines:

• ​Christianity speaks of the Holy Trinity and instructs believers through commandments that define its relationship with the Divine.

• ​Islam upholds the principle of Tawhid, emphasizing the oneness and uniqueness of God.

• ​Hinduism recognizes Brahma, Vishnu, and Mahesh, representing different functional aspects of the divine.

​Theological meanings, scriptures, and understandings of God vary significantly across traditions. Intellectual honesty demands that we acknowledge these fundamental theological differences rather than brush them aside. To say that all religions are doctrines-wise identical would be a misleading generalization.

​However, acknowledging these distinct theological frameworks does not mean we cannot uphold equality before the law, mutual respect, and peaceful coexistence.

​From a personal spiritual perspective, despite these distinct pathways, I see in them humanity's collective effort to understand the divine power that sustains life and the universe. We use different names, symbols, prayers, and rituals to express our relationship with that power. Our ways of worship differ, but our longing for peace, protection, hope, and love is universal.

​A name does not divide the divine. It is often human beings who create divisions in the name of God.

​Lessons from Nature and Faith

​The sun shines on everyone, regardless of religion, caste, or community. The rain falls on the homes of people of every faith. Air, water, and the earth do not discriminate between Christians, Hindus, Muslims, Sikhs, or anyone else.

​If nature treats us without discrimination, why should we discriminate against one another in the name of the Creator?

​Consider the painful narratives found across different traditions:

• ​Hindu Tradition: King Kansa feared the prophecy that Krishna would cause his downfall, leading to terrible acts against innocent children before Krishna survived.
• ​Christian Gospel: King Herod ordered the harm of young children in Bethlehem out of fear and insecurity regarding his power before Jesus survived.

​While details belong to distinct religious narratives, both highlight a profound truth: fear, insecurity, and the hunger for power can lead human beings to commit terrible acts.

​Religion should teach us to protect life, not destroy it; to overcome fear, not spread it; and to practise compassion, not hatred. When religion becomes an excuse for violence, we must ask ourselves whether we are following the values of our faith or merely using its name to justify our prejudices.

​Shared Connections Across Traditions

​There are beautiful historical and spiritual connections between traditions that remind us of our common ties:

• ​Mother Mary, venerated in Christianity, is honored in Islam as Maryam, the mother of Prophet Isa (Jesus), held in high esteem within the Quran.
• ​Bread and Shared Sustenance hold deep sacred meaning—from the Eucharist in Christianity to the shared meals, charity, and breaking of the fast (Iftar) in Islam during Ramadan.

​Such shared touchpoints offer opportunities for mutual understanding rather than reasons for conflict.

​The Role of Self-Love and Moral Purpose

​There is another truth that guides my life: I love myself, and this gives me direction; I love humanity, and this gives my life its purpose.

​Loving oneself is not about arrogance or feeling superior to others. It means recognizing one's worth, respecting one's existence, and taking responsibility for making life meaningful.

​When you respect yourself:

1. ​You become conscious of your words, actions, and moral responsibilities.
2. ​You realize that your life has value, and consequently, so does the life of every other human being.
3. ​You gain the courage to stand by your principles without needing to belittle anyone else's belief system.

​We enter the stage of life at different times, play our roles—as teachers, doctors, soldiers, journalists, social workers, or parents—and eventually leave. What matters most at the end of our journey is not the religious label attached to our name, but the goodness we brought into the lives of others.

​A Message for Peaceful Coexistence

​Death is the ultimate truth of human existence. None of our accumulated wealth, power, or pride in religious labels can make us immortal. Knowing this, why waste precious years fighting over identity?

• ​Faith vs. Fanaticism: True devotion should make us more compassionate, humble, and willing to serve. Fanaticism turns belief into a weapon.
• ​Mutual Respect: We do not need to abandon or dilute our own convictions to respect another person's faith. Respect does not demand conversion, nor does understanding require surrendering our beliefs.

​Let Christians be good Christians, Hindus be good Hindus, Muslims be good Muslims, and Sikhs be good Sikhs—practising their faith with compassion, integrity, and humility.

​When the curtain eventually falls for each of us, may we be remembered not for the divisions we created, but for the hearts we touched; not for the hatred we spread, but for the love we shared; and not merely for the faith we professed, but for the humanity we practised.

​After all, before we belong to any religion, we belong to humanity. 

 

My Third Attempt to Wear the Olive Green

By John Aguiar

It was my third attempt to enter the olive green uniform through the Territorial Army. By then, I knew that the journey to the armed forces was not merely about clearing examinations. It was a test of one's personality, confidence, leadership, teamwork and, above all, one's ability to remain composed under pressure.

I had first cleared the written examination and subsequently appeared for an interview before a senior officer of the rank of Major General, along with a psychologist. I qualified the Preliminary Interview Board (PIB) and was recommended to 34 SSB, Allahabad, for further assessment.

I still remember my journey to Allahabad.

I travelled by train and reached early in the morning. At the appointed time, an Army bus arrived to pick us up and took us to the Selection Centre. Once there, we were asked to produce our documents and certificates and complete the Personal Information Questionnaire (PIQ) form. We were then allotted our chest numbers and given accommodation in the barracks.

The real test was about to begin.

The First Test

The following morning, we reported early to the testing hall. We were required to write a series of psychological tests and questionnaires, including BST-1 and BST-2.

Then came the picture test.

We were shown a picture and asked to observe it carefully, identify the actions of the person or persons shown—whether positive or negative—and then write a story based on the picture.

While we were still writing our stories, our papers were suddenly collected. We were then divided into groups for a discussion.

The Group Testing Officer (GTO) asked us to discuss the picture.

What followed was complete confusion.

Everyone began speaking at the same time. There was no order, no discipline and hardly any opportunity for anyone to listen to another person's point of view. I was not quite sure what was happening.

Suddenly, almost instinctively, I stood up and shouted:

"This is not the way. Have some discipline. Let one person speak at a time!"

There was pin-drop silence.

I could hear the GTO asking me whether I wanted to complete the story.

I replied, "Yes."

I completed my story.

After the group discussion, some of my fellow candidates came up to congratulate me. I simply told them:

"Let's see."

I did not want to celebrate too early. The SSB process had taught us that every stage mattered.

From 150 to 30

There were around 150 candidates in our batch.

The instructors subsequently divided us into two groups. One group was asked to leave and return to their respective destinations.

Only around 30 of us remained for further assessment.

We were given new chest numbers.

For those of us who stayed back, the atmosphere changed. We were provided better facilities in the barracks and continued with the remaining stages of the selection process.

For the next four days, we underwent various assessments and interviews. Despite the seriousness of the occasion, those four days also gave us an opportunity to interact with one another. We shared meals, conversations, experiences and dreams.

We had all come with the same aspiration—to wear the olive green.

Finally came the President's Interview and the Conference.

By then, we had spent several days being tested, observed and assessed from different angles. We had given everything we could.

Then came the final decision.

Only One

Of the 30 candidates who had remained, only one was recommended.

The remaining 29 candidates, including me, were conference out.

Just like that, the dream came to an end.

There was no argument, no explanation and no bitterness. That is the nature of selection. The Services Selection Board has its own system of assessing candidates, and one has to accept the outcome.

But acceptance does not mean that disappointment does not hurt.

I boarded the train back from Allahabad with a very heavy heart.

I had travelled there carrying the hope of earning the right to wear the olive green. I was returning without that recommendation.

Yet, somewhere within me, I also knew that the experience had changed me.

The SSB was not merely a selection process. It was an education in leadership, discipline, teamwork, self-confidence and handling pressure. It taught me that sometimes you can give your best and still not be selected.

And sometimes, life has another uniform waiting for you.

I did not wear the olive green through the Territorial Army.

But the dream of serving the nation never really left me.

The journey from Allahabad stayed with me—not as a story of failure, but as a story of an attempt, a dream, a lesson and a chapter of my life that I will always remember.

The recommendation may not have come, but the spirit of service continued.

From the Hunting Grounds to the Shooting Range: How my father’s lessons turned a frightened boy into a National Shooter.

 From the Hunting Grounds to the Shooting Range:

How my father’s lessons turned a frightened boy into a National Shooter.

John Aguiar

When I was young, I longed to learn shooting. My inspiration was my father, Diogo Aguiar, a renowned hunter who often travelled to Mollem and Talsai in pursuit of rabbits and porcupines, spending long nights in the jungle.

I was sometimes frightened by the darkness and unfamiliar sounds. My father would occasionally leave me behind while he pursued prey. Though frightening at the time, those experiences gradually transformed me from a timid boy into a brave and confident young man.

My father owned a 12-bore double-barrel gun, and I was fascinated by it. One day, I asked him to teach me how to use it.

He nodded, but said, “Let me test you first.”

At Dhavali, he prepared a target from the back of a calendar and took me to a suitable distance. He began explaining firearm safety and the importance of the front and rear sights. But having watched him handle the gun many times, I pushed the safety of the loaded weapon to active mode and pulled the trigger before he could finish.

“Dham!”

The shot echoed through the jungle. My father slapped my back.

“Idiot!” he exclaimed. “You should have waited for my instructions. You fired into the air!”

I insisted that I had aimed at the target. He caught me by the ear and led me towards it. When we examined it, we found that the pellets had spread around the target in an almost perfect circle.

My father said nothing, but I knew he was pleased. Perhaps he realised that his son had grown up.

That incident began my journey with shooting. My father later arranged for his licence to be retained in my name, allowing me to lawfully possess and carry the firearm. I continued hunting and became familiar with the jungle’s excitement and dangers.

My father had shot several animals, including leopards, wild boars, bison, deer and others. Once, he shot a deer with magnificent antlers. Although injured, the deer charged towards him, and the two became locked in a fight for survival. After some time, my father overpowered the animal and killed it with his dagger. The deer’s head later decorated the sitting room of our ancestral house in Ponda.

I hunted rabbits, civet cats, wild boar, deer and other animals. But one incident changed me forever.

During an expedition, I shot a porcupine. As it lay wounded, it cried in a voice that sounded almost like a child’s.

That sound stayed with me. Something changed inside me, and I gradually gave up hunting.

Later, after joining Government service, I consciously distanced myself from it. Over time, my attitude towards animals and life changed further. Today, I do not kill even an insect; even when one bites me, I try to let it live.

Yet my father’s lessons remained with me. The discipline, concentration and steadiness I developed through shooting proved valuable in another arena:

The shooting range.

As an NCC cadet in Madhya Pradesh, I became the Best Shooter in NCC. That experience and confidence eventually led me to compete at a higher level.

I represented Goa at the National Maulankar Shooting Championship, earning the distinction of becoming a National Shooter.

Looking back, I see how unexpectedly life can transform our experiences. What began with a boy watching his father hunt eventually led me to the national shooting arena.

My father taught me how to handle a gun.

Life taught me something more important—when not to use it.

The frightened boy who entered the jungle became a shooter who represented Goa nationally. The hunter’s son who once pursued animals became someone who believes every living creature deserves to live.

That, perhaps, is the most meaningful shot I have ever taken—not with a gun, but at my own transformation.

Adventure Has Always Been Part of My Life

 Adventure Has Always Been Part of My Life

John Aguiar 

Adventure has never been just an occasional activity for me—it has been a part of my life since childhood. Long before I understood what adventure really meant, I was already climbing trees, falling from them, getting up, dusting myself off and trying again. Those early experiences slowly built in me a spirit of courage, curiosity and a willingness to explore the unknown.

During my school days, cycling became one of my favourite adventures. My friends Socorro Barreto, Milton Rodrigues and Vincent Mendes and I would sometimes set out from Ponda to Navelim on our bicycles after attending Christmas Midnight Mass. What began as an exciting outing soon became a tradition. We continued this cycling adventure for almost five to six years.

Those were days when we had little by way of sophisticated equipment or elaborate planning. We simply had our bicycles, our enthusiasm and the freedom to explore. We also cycled to different parts of Goa, discovering the State on two wheels. The long rides, tired legs, roadside stops and laughter shared with friends remain among my cherished memories of youth.

As I grew older, my adventures moved beyond cycling. I remember running from Ponda Tisk to Dhavlimol, discovering the joy of pushing myself physically. Trekking with the Youth Hostels Association further strengthened my love for the outdoors.

My thirst for adventure then took me to more challenging terrain. I attended an Advance Leadership Camp at Pachmarhi, Madhya Pradesh, where rock climbing tested physical strength, concentration and confidence. Scaling a rock face and finding the next foothold taught me an important lesson—that fear can be overcome when determination takes over.

My passion for the mountains eventually took me to Darjeeling, where I underwent a mountaineering course at the National Himalayan Mountaineering Institute. The mountains taught me humility and respect for nature. I learnt that mountaineering is not about conquering the mountains, but about understanding them, respecting their power and overcoming one's own limitations.

Cycling returned in a much bigger way when I undertook two long-distance cycling expeditions—one from Goa to Pune and back, and another from Goa to Mantralaya in Karnataka and back. These journeys demanded stamina, discipline and determination. Every kilometre brought its own challenges, but reaching the destination under our own pedal power gave an indescribable sense of achievement.

Another memorable chapter was practising rappelling at Sinquerim with my friends Rupesh Parvatkar, Mahesh Gaonkar and Serafino Dias. Lowering ourselves down the rock face, secured by ropes, was both thrilling and nerve-racking. It required trust in the equipment, confidence in our training and, most importantly, trust in one another.

When I look back today, I realise that these adventures were not merely about cycling, running, trekking, climbing or rappelling. They were experiences that shaped me. They taught me courage, discipline, teamwork, endurance and the ability to face uncertainty without giving up.

From cycling after Christmas Midnight Mass with school friends to exploring Goa on two wheels, from running the roads around Ponda to trekking, rock climbing and mountaineering in distant places, every adventure added a new chapter to my life.

Perhaps that is why adventure has always remained close to my heart.

The real adventure is not merely reaching the destination. It is having the courage to begin the journey, the strength to continue and the memories to cherish long after the journey is over.

The Porcupine Quill and the Dog I Could Not Ignore

 The Porcupine Quill and the Dog I Could Not Ignore

By John Aguiar

Verem, Bardez, Goa.

It was an ordinary evening on October 26, 2020 when I stepped out for my walk at Verem, Bardez. Little did I know that the walk would turn into an unforgettable experience involving a distressed stray dog and a porcupine quill.

As I walked along, I noticed a stray dog in obvious distress. A long porcupine quill had pierced through its jaw. The poor animal was frightened and was keeping away from people. I later learnt that animal lovers in the area had already been trying to rescue it.

Rakhi Puri, who regularly feeds the stray dogs in the area, had noticed the animal's condition. The quill was causing considerable suffering. Whenever the dog tried to eat, the protruding end of the quill would touch the ground and push the quill even deeper into the other side of its jaw.

Rakhi and her assistants had made arrangements to rescue the dog. They placed a trap cage with food inside and even created a trail of canned meat to lure it into the cage. But the frightened dog remained cautious and refused to come close.

When I saw the dog during my evening walk, I felt that I had to try. I approached it slowly and began calling out to it gently. Instead of trying to chase or catch it, I simply tried to gain its confidence.

After some coaxing, the dog gradually dropped its defensive guard and allowed me to come closer. I began stroking it with one hand. With the other hand, I carefully reached towards the quill.

I knew that one wrong movement could frighten the animal or cause it more pain. Still, I decided to take the chance. Slowly and cautiously, I grasped the quill and pulled it out.

The moment it came free, I felt an enormous sense of relief. The dog, which had been living with that painful obstruction, was finally free from the quill.

What stayed with me was not just the rescue itself, but the trust the animal placed in me at that moment. A frightened stray, which had been avoiding everyone, had allowed me to come close enough to help.

That evening reminded me that compassion does not always require great resources or elaborate arrangements. Sometimes, it simply requires us to stop, observe someone's suffering and make an effort to help.

The dog could not tell me what it was going through. But its eyes said enough. And I am glad that, on that particular evening, I was there to listen.

A Rakhi Sister: A Bond Beyond Blood

 

A Rakhi Sister: A Bond Beyond Blood

By John Aguiar

I was an only child. While growing up, I often longed for a sister—someone with whom I could play, share my little joys and quarrels, and, most importantly, someone who would lovingly tie a rakhi on my wrist every Raksha Bandhan.

But destiny had other plans.

My mother had to undergo an operation during my birth, and unfortunately, her uterus had to be removed. That meant I could never have a younger brother or sister. As a child, I did not fully understand what that meant. I only knew that I wished I had a sister.

Then, quite unexpectedly, life gave me one.

There was a family living near our house with whom we were very close. They too had an only child—a girl named Pournima Naik. Pournima, like me, longed for a sibling. She wished she had a brother with whom she could share the special bond of Raksha Bandhan.

Our parents saw this innocent longing in both of us and decided to create a bond that was not born by blood, but was born from affection.

They arranged for Pournima to tie me a rakhi.

I still remember the happiness I felt. For me, it was as if a childhood dream had suddenly come true. I had a sister! Perhaps she was a rakhi sister, but to my young heart, that distinction meant nothing. I had someone who would tie a rakhi on my wrist, someone I could call my sister, and someone with whom I could share the affection I had always longed for.

What began as a simple Raksha Bandhan ritual gradually grew into something much deeper.

Years passed. Childhood gave way to adulthood, and our lives changed in many ways. Yet the bond remained. With every passing Raksha Bandhan, the thread on my wrist seemed to become stronger—not because of the thread itself, but because of the memories, affection, trust and understanding that had accumulated over the years.

Pournima is not merely a girl who once tied a rakhi to me. She became a part of my family and a permanent part of my life. The relationship that our parents initiated has endured for decades.

Today, I can say with complete conviction that we are no less than real brother and sister.

Blood creates relationships, but it is love that sustains them.

Looking back, I sometimes wonder whether destiny had deliberately left a space in both our childhoods so that we could fill it for each other. I was longing for a sister, and she was longing for a brother. Our parents simply brought those two longings together.

That first rakhi may have been tied around my wrist with a simple thread, but over the years it has become a thread of affection, memories and lifelong companionship.

Raksha Bandhan, therefore, means something very personal to me. It reminds me that family is not always defined by blood. Sometimes, relationships are created by circumstances, nurtured by affection and strengthened by time.

Pournima became my sister because she tied a rakhi on my wrist. But she remained my sister because our hearts accepted that relationship.

And perhaps that is the real magic of Raksha Bandhan—a small thread can create a bond that lasts a lifetime.

Some relationships are born.
Some relationships are chosen.
And some are gifted to us by destiny.

Pournima is one such gift in my life.

A Puja I Could Perform, and One I Could Not

 A Puja I Could Perform, and One I Could Not

By John Aguiar

Some memories fade with time. Others remain with us, becoming even more vivid as the years pass. Some bring a smile to our faces, while others leave behind a small, lingering ache. One such memory from my years in government service is connected with the Shree Satyanarayan Mahapuja.

At that time, I was serving as an officer in the Department of Information and Publicity, and my family and I were staying in the Government Colony at Patto.

Every year, the residents of the colony would organise the Shree Satyanarayan Mahapuja with great enthusiasm. What I remember most about those occasions was not merely the religious ceremony, but the spirit of togetherness among the residents. People belonging to different backgrounds lived together, and there was a wonderful sense of openness, mutual respect and camaraderie.

One year, my wife asked me, “Can we perform the puja this year?”

I was happy with the idea and decided to participate in the lottery through which the opportunity to perform the puja was given to one of the residents.

Fortunately, my name was drawn.

I was genuinely delighted.

Shri Sagar Javdekar and several other residents extended their support and cooperation. What impressed me most was the open-minded attitude of the residents. There was no unnecessary questioning of anyone's faith or background. What mattered was participation, goodwill and the happiness of the community.

That year, we performed the Shree Satyanarayan Mahapuja with great enthusiasm and happiness.

For me, it was much more than a religious ceremony. It was an experience of community living—a reminder that people with different backgrounds can come together, participate in each other's traditions and celebrate with mutual respect.

There is, however, another side to this memory.

Similar pujas were also organised in my office, the Department of Information and Publicity. On one such occasion, a lottery was conducted and, once again, my name was picked.

Naturally, I was happy.

I thought I would have the opportunity to perform the puja in my own office, just as I had done in the Government Colony.

But this time, things were different.

There were voices raised against my performing the Shree Satyanarayan Puja. Consequently, despite my name having been selected in the lottery, I was not fortunate enough to perform the puja at my workplace.

At that time, I did not make a major issue of it. As a government servant, I had always believed that one must learn to accept different opinions and situations with maturity. Life and service require us to move on.

But today, when I look back, I still feel a small pinch of sadness.

It was not simply about performing a puja.

It was about acceptance, equality and respect for another person's faith and sentiments.

What makes the memory more poignant is the contrast. In the Government Colony at Patto, I experienced an atmosphere of openness and acceptance. Residents came together happily and allowed one another the space to observe and celebrate their traditions.

In my own office, however, the same opportunity did not materialise.

I have never believed that one's faith should be imposed upon another. Every individual has the right to follow his or her beliefs. At the same time, I believe that respecting another person's faith and sentiments is an equally important part of living in a plural and democratic society.

Looking back today, I remember the Patto puja with happiness and gratitude. It taught me something valuable about coexistence.

And the puja that I could not perform in my office?

That memory remains in a small corner of my heart—not as anger, not as a complaint, but simply as a quiet regret.

Perhaps some opportunities come our way only once. Perhaps some moments cannot be recreated.

But that one experience has stayed with me because it raises a larger question:

Have we truly learnt to respect one another's faith, traditions and sentiments, even when they are different from our own?

Years have passed. People have changed, circumstances have changed, and society has moved forward.

Yet the memory remains.

And whenever I think of it, I am reminded of a simple truth:

Our faiths may be different, our traditions may be different and our ways of worship may be different—but respect for one another and the spirit of humanity should always remain common ground.

— John Aguiar

Story of Defections in Goa

Story of Defections in Goa

By John Aguiar

Goa's political history is inseparable from the story of defections, splits, floor-crossings and political realignments. Since the first Legislative Assembly was elected in 1963, Goa has witnessed repeated instances of legislators changing political loyalties, splitting parties and altering the balance of power. On several occasions, governments have fallen or been formed without the electorate being given an opportunity to vote again.

Although defections became particularly notorious after Goa attained statehood in 1987, the phenomenon began much earlier. In fact, Goa witnessed its first major political split within the United Goans Party (UGP) in the 1960s.

The first split: UGP, 1965

The first major split in the United Goans Party occurred in 1965, when Dr. Alvaro de Loyola Furtado broke away from the Jack de Sequeira-led faction and formed the UGP (Furtado), while the parent group came to be known as the UGP (Sequeira). The division was rooted in differences over Goa's political future and the demand for statehood. The split became electorally significant after the 1967 Opinion Poll.

In the March 1967 Goa, Daman and Diu Legislative Assembly election (out of 30 total seats):

​Maharashtrawadi Gomantak Party (MGP): Won 16 seats (securing a majority to form the government under Dayanand Bandodkar). ​United Goans Party (Sequeira faction): Won 12 seats (retaining a strong presence in the Opposition). ​United Goans Party (Furtado faction): Contested 6 seats and won 0 seats.

​Independents: Won 2 seats.

 The UGP subsequently entered the Opposition, while Dayanand Bandodkar's Maharashtrawadi Gomantak Party (MGP) continued to dominate Goa's political landscape.

K. B. Naik's rebellion: 1970

The next major episode came in 1970, when Shiroda MLA K. B. Naik, a prominent leader of the MGP, rebelled against Chief Minister Dayanand 'Bhausaheb' Bandodkar.

Naik led a group of seven MGP legislators who broke away from the ruling party and formed the Nava-MGP. The principal objective of the rebellion was to dislodge Bandodkar as Chief Minister. Naik himself was interested in succeeding him.

The rebellion, however, did not bring down the MGP government. Bandodkar countered the challenge by securing the support of five UGP legislators. They crossed the floor and voted in support of the government during the crucial confidence vote.

Among those associated with the UGP split was Abdul Razak, along with Elu Miranda, Valent Sequeira and Orlando Sequeira Lobo. The five UGP legislators who supported Bandodkar became part of a breakaway UGP group. The crucial vote enabled Bandodkar to survive the rebellion. A contemporary account records that the government won the confidence vote by 17 votes to 14.

Thus, the 1970 episode became one of Goa's earliest examples of a government surviving through floor-crossing and carefully engineered political realignment.

The MGP rebellion of 1979

The next major crisis occurred during the government of Shashikala Kakodkar, who had succeeded her father, Bandodkar, after his death in 1973.

In April 1979, serious differences developed within the MGP. Law Minister Shankar Laad, along with senior legislators Dayanand Narvekar and Dilkush Desai, withdrew support from Kakodkar's government and joined the Opposition.

The rebels claimed majority support and staked a claim to form an alternative government under Shankar Laad. The rebellion reduced Kakodkar's support to 13 members, while the Opposition claimed 17, including the Speaker.

The political crisis resulted in the fall of the Kakodkar government and was followed by President's Rule. It marked the end of the MGP's uninterrupted period of dominance in Goa.

The 1980 realignment

The political landscape changed dramatically in 1980. The Congress faction that had emerged under the Congress (Urs) banner had won a majority, while the MGP was reduced to seven seats.

Five MGP legislators subsequently joined the Congress, further weakening the MGP. Around the same period, the Congress (Urs) itself merged with Congress (I), reflecting how national political developments were directly influencing Goa's political equations.

There was also an attempt to merge the MGP with the Congress. Ramakant Khalap played an important role in resisting the proposed merger and preserving the independent identity of the MGP.

The 1980s: Congress dominance and new alignments

The 1980s saw the emergence of Pratapsingh Rane as one of Goa's most important political figures. Rane had earlier been associated with the MGP before moving to the Congress and subsequently becoming Chief Minister.

The decade was relatively more stable compared with the years that followed, but political realignments continued. The emergence of new regional formations and the gradual weakening of the traditional UGP and MGP structures laid the groundwork for the highly fluid politics of the 1990s.

The 1990 political earthquake

The real turning point in Goa's history of defections came in March 1990.

Congress Chief Minister Pratapsingh Rane had only a precarious majority. Speaker Luis Proto Barbosa, along with six other Congress MLAs, broke away from the party and withdrew support from the Rane government.

The defectors formed the Goan People's Party (GPP) and, with the support of the MGP, formed the Progressive Democratic Front (PDF) government. Churchill Alemao initially became Chief Minister. Subsequently, Luis Proto Barbosa became Chief Minister.

This was a landmark moment. For the first time, a group of legislators changed sides on such a scale that an elected government was brought down and a new government was formed without a general election.

The episode also demonstrated the limitations of the anti-defection provisions then in force. The 1985 Anti-Defection Law permitted protection where a breakaway group constituted at least one-third of the legislature party.

The PDF government itself was short-lived. When the MGP withdrew its support later in 1990, the political crisis returned and Goa eventually came under President's Rule.

The 1990s: Defection becomes a political weapon

The 1990s witnessed perhaps the most turbulent period in Goa's political history.

The Tenth Schedule, popularly known as the Anti-Defection Law, had been introduced into the Constitution in 1985 to discourage legislators from changing parties. However, the provision permitting a one-third split was frequently used by politicians to avoid disqualification.

Goa became a striking example of how the law could be circumvented through organised group defections.

The 1994–99 Assembly witnessed repeated political shifts. Governments changed, alliances were rearranged and legislators moved between parties. The instability culminated in the collapse of the Wilfred de Souza and subsequently Luizinho Faleiro governments in 1998.

The Sardinha government: 1999

The 1999 Assembly election produced a Congress majority, with the party winning 21 of the 40 seats. Luizinho Faleiro became Chief Minister.

But within months, Francisco Sardinha led a breakaway from the Congress. With BJP support, he formed the government in November 1999.

Sardinha's government lasted only about eleven months. On 24 October 2000, the BJP formed its first government in Goa under Manohar Parrikar.

Goa had entered an era in which the result of an election could no longer guarantee the stability of the government that emerged from it.

The post-2003 era: Resign, switch and return

The 91st Constitutional Amendment of 2003 abolished the one-third split provision under the Anti-Defection Law and strengthened the restrictions on defections.

But Goa's politicians soon found another route.

Isidore Fernandes became a notable example. After being elected on a Congress ticket, he resigned from the Assembly in 2004 and joined the BJP. He subsequently contested and won the by-election on a BJP ticket.

The experiment was repeated on a much larger scale in 2005. Several BJP legislators resigned from the Assembly amid a political crisis, enabling the Congress-led formation under Pratapsingh Rane to return to power.

Five Assembly constituencies went to by-elections in June 2005. Congress and its allies won four of them, while BJP retained Poinguinim.

The episode demonstrated a new method of political defection: resign from the Assembly, change party and seek a fresh mandate through a by-election.

Ravi Naik: a career across political parties

Goa's history of party switching is also reflected in the careers of individual politicians.

Ravi Naik began his political career with the MGP before joining the Congress in 1991 and becoming Chief Minister. He later joined the BJP and served as Deputy Chief Minister before returning to the Congress. In 2021, he once again joined the BJP.

His political journey illustrates the fluidity of party loyalties that has characterised Goa for decades.

Digambar Kamat and the 2005 crisis

Digambar Kamat was among the BJP's four MLAs elected in the 1994 Assembly election, when the BJP made its debut in the Goa Assembly.

In February 2005, Kamat resigned from the BJP and from the Assembly. His resignation came during a crucial political crisis and contributed to the collapse of the Manohar Parrikar government. He subsequently joined the Congress and became a minister in the Pratapsingh Rane government.

Kamat later became Chief Minister, serving from 2007 to 2012.

The post-2017 wave

The tradition of political realignment continued after 2017.

Vishwajit Rane resigned from the Congress after the 2017 Assembly election, joined the BJP and returned to the Assembly through a by-election.

Later, Subhash Shirodkar and Dayanand Sopte also resigned as Congress MLAs, joined the BJP and successfully contested by-elections.

The MGP also witnessed a major realignment when Manohar Ajgaonkar and Deepak Pauskar moved from the MGP to the BJP.

The 2019 mass defection

In 2019, Goa witnessed one of its most dramatic episodes of mass defection.

Ten of the Congress's 15 MLAs merged with the BJP, reducing the Congress to just five MLAs and substantially strengthening the ruling BJP. Because the 2003 amendment had abolished the one-third split provision, the legislators relied on the constitutional provision relating to a merger, which requires two-thirds of the legislature party.

The episode became one of the most striking examples in India of the political use of the merger provision under the Anti-Defection Law.

The 2022 defection

In September 2022, Goa again made national headlines when eight Congress MLAs, including former Chief Minister Digambar Kamat, joined the BJP.

It was another dramatic demonstration of Goa's continuing culture of political realignment and the extraordinary fluidity of party loyalties.

A political culture of defection

Goa's history of defections is therefore not a story that began with the Congress-BJP politics of the 21st century. It stretches back to the first decade after Liberation.

From the UGP split of the 1960s, to K. B. Naik's rebellion against Bandodkar in 1970; from the fall of Shashikala Kakodkar in 1979 to the dramatic Congress defections of 1990; from the Sardinha government of 1999 to the political crisis of 2005; and from the 2019 Congress-BJP merger to the eight-member Congress exodus of 2022, Goa has repeatedly witnessed legislators changing political sides.

The reasons have varied. Some defections were driven by ideological differences, some by internal party disputes, some by leadership ambitions and others by the prospect of power.

But the political consequence has often been the same: the arithmetic inside the Assembly has become as important as the verdict delivered by the electorate.

Goa's experience also raises an uncomfortable democratic question. When a voter elects a candidate on the symbol and programme of one political party, how far should that representative be free to change allegiance during the life of the Assembly?

The Anti-Defection Law was intended to answer that question. Yet Goa's political history shows that whenever one route to defection was closed, another was often found.

Defections have certainly demonstrated the flexibility and dynamism of Goa's politics. But they have also contributed to political instability, weakened ideological commitment and, at times, created a disconnect between the mandate given by voters and the government that eventually governs them.

The story of defections in Goa is ultimately a story about the tension between individual political ambition and the collective mandate of the electorate.

As Goa's democracy matures, the greater challenge is not merely to prevent defections through law, but to strengthen the political culture in which elected representatives remain accountable to the people who elected them.

The true strength of democracy lies not in the ability to change governments through political manoeuvring, but in respecting the mandate of the people.

Student Movements and Democracy: A Uniform Constitutional Test

Iconic Photograph by my friend Sandeep Naik NT lensman at that time.Appeared on the front page of Navhind Times dated August 10, 1984. (Voditala Agitation)

Student Movements and Democracy: A Uniform Constitutional Test

— John Aguiar

Throughout the history of independent India, student movements have emerged under almost every government. From the freedom struggle and the movement against the Emergency to the agitations that followed the implementation of the Mandal Commission recommendations during Prime Minister V. P. Singh’s tenure, and to recent student protests, young people have played an important role in shaping public discourse.

Goa too has a rich tradition of student movements. Students have repeatedly taken to the streets to raise their voices on issues concerning education, public welfare and social justice. The movement demanding a 50 per cent concession in bus fares for students, the Voditala agitation, and the movement against the marks scam are among the memorable student agitations in Goa. Through these movements, students expressed their views democratically on issues concerning their future and the larger interests of society.

One of the largest student movements in independent India took place in 1990. After Prime Minister V. P. Singh’s government decided to implement the recommendations of the Mandal Commission, thousands of students took to the streets across the country. Demonstrations, strikes and agitations swept through universities. In several places, the situation turned violent; there were tragic incidents of self-immolation and clashes with the police.

However, despite the widespread nature of the agitation, the students were not generally branded as anti-national or traitors merely because they opposed a particular government policy. Their movement was viewed as the expression of a democratic disagreement with a decision taken by the government.

The political consequences of the agitation were also significant. After losing support in Parliament, the V. P. Singh government fell. This episode clearly demonstrated one of the fundamental principles of parliamentary democracy: governments may change, but the nation remains.

That distinction remains equally important today.

A government is an executive leadership elected for a specific period. The nation is much larger than any government, political party or individual. Therefore, citizens have a constitutional right to support government policies or to criticise them. Doing so does not make them anti-national or traitors.

The Constitution of India guarantees every citizen the freedom of expression and the right to assemble peacefully. Subject to reasonable restrictions, peaceful protest is an accepted democratic practice.

At the same time, democracy also imposes responsibilities on citizens. Peaceful protest deserves constitutional protection; however, violence, destruction of public property, attacks on government employees, or incitement to commit offences cannot be justified in the name of protest. Whoever may be in power, such acts must be dealt with according to law.

The same test must apply equally to every government. If student movements during the Mandal agitation were recognised as democratic expressions of disagreement, the same constitutional standard should apply to student movements today. Similarly, Goa’s 50 per cent bus-fare concession movement, the Voditala capitation fees agitation and the movement against the marks scam were part of the democratic tradition. They helped shape public discourse and were not treated as anti-national movements. However, if any movement takes a violent or unlawful turn, action must be taken according to law, without political bias.

The true strength of democracy does not lie in everyone holding the same opinion. It lies in providing space for differences of opinion within the framework of the Constitution. Branding every dissenting voice as anti-national weakens democratic institutions. At the same time, ignoring unlawful violence merely because one sympathises with its cause is equally dangerous to the rule of law.

History teaches us that governments come and go, but India’s democratic values must endure. Therefore, our commitment must be to protect constitutional rights, maintain public order and apply the same standards of justice irrespective of who is in power.

The true mark of a mature democracy is not the absence of dissent. It is the ability to protect the constitutional right to express dissent while upholding the rule of law with equal firmness.

This is the enduring strength of the Indian Republic.

A Presidential Reception and an Assignment I Will Always Remember

 A Presidential Reception and an Assignment I Will Always Remember

By John Aguiar

Some assignments remain etched in one’s professional memory not merely because of the importance of the occasion, but because of the responsibility and trust associated with them. For me, organising the civic reception of President of India Shri Ram Nath Kovind during his first presidential visit to Goa on July 7, 2018, was one such assignment.

At the time, I was serving as an Information Officer, and my Department appointed me as the Nodal Officer for organising the civic reception, as our Department was the host Department for the event. I considered the responsibility a great honour.

The President attended a grand civic reception hosted by the Government of Goa in Panaji. Goa Governor Smt. Mridula Sinha, Chief Minister Shri Manohar Parrikar and several senior leaders and officials were present.

My first responsibility was to identify and finalise a suitable auditorium. Our first preference was the Taleigao Community Centre. I personally visited the venue, but learnt that a wedding had already been scheduled there on the same day. We therefore turned our attention to the NIO Auditorium at Dona Paula.

At a subsequent meeting at the Chief Minister’s Office, the Secretary to the Hon’ble Chief Minister, an IAS officer, questioned me about why the Taleigao Community Centre had not been finalised. When I explained that a wedding had already been booked there, he suggested that the booking be cancelled.

Chief Minister Shri Manohar Parrikar immediately intervened. He felt that it would not be proper to cancel the wedding booking, as the family would already have made all the necessary arrangements. His intervention settled the issue.

Constant Coordination with Rashtrapati Bhavan

I was in constant touch with Rashtrapati Bhavan throughout the preparations. Major Conrad Fernandes, an ADC of the rank of Major from the Maratha Regiment and a native of Mangaluru, was my principal point of contact. We coordinated extensively on protocol, stage arrangements, speakers, seating and the audience.

The coordination with Rashtrapati Bhavan extended even to the publicity material. The banners and advertisements proposed for the civic reception had to be submitted to and approved by Rashtrapati Bhavan. There were strict instructions regarding the use of the President’s photograph, and we were required to use only the approved photograph of the Hon’ble President.

This meant that even seemingly routine publicity material had to pass through the prescribed protocol before it could be released. As the Nodal Officer, I coordinated these requirements and ensured that the material complied with the instructions received from Rashtrapati Bhavan.

I also coordinated the welcome song and the Master of Ceremony. Every development had to be reported to my Director, Shri T. S. Sawant. I briefed him regularly so that he could keep the Chief Minister and other authorities informed about the progress.

A substantial portion of the President’s speech was also prepared by me. Since the occasion involved the President of India, every detail had to be carefully worked out.

One moment remains particularly memorable. I began the President’s speech with the Konkani greeting “Mhajea Mogall Goenkarano, Tumkam Saglleank maye mogacho namaskar " ,  deliberately retaining it in Devanagari script. I wanted the President to pronounce the Konkani greeting correctly.

And he did.

President Kovind pronounced it perfectly, drawing warm applause from the audience. The moment created a special connection between the President and the people of Goa.

The protocol arrangements were equally meticulous. There were two podiums on the stage—one exclusively for the President and another for the other speakers and the Master of Ceremony.

A large traditional samayee was presented by Chief Minister Shri Manohar Parrikar to President Kovind as a token of love and affection from the people of Goa.

The function went off smoothly. After the event, my Director, Shri T. S. Sawant, was full of praise for my efforts. His appreciation was particularly gratifying because I had personally coordinated several aspects of the programme from the initial preparations until the conclusion of the event.

But there was still one task left.

Two days later, Major Conrad Fernandes called me asking about the samayee presented to the President. We had to ensure that it reached Delhi.

We dismantled the samayee, got it properly packed through ESG and sent it to New Delhi by Air India Cargo. At the same time, Goa Sadan was informed to collect the consignment and arrange for its delivery to the President’s residence.

Only after this final responsibility was completed did I feel that my assignment was truly over.

Looking back, the civic reception remains one of the most memorable assignments of my career as an Information Officer. It taught me once again that an important government function is not merely about what is visible on the stage. Behind every successful event lies meticulous planning, constant coordination, protocol, communication and the ability to handle unexpected situations calmly.

I accepted the assignment as part of my official duty. But being entrusted with the responsibility of coordinating the civic reception of the President of India was, without doubt, an honour that I will always cherish.

Caption: President Speaks. Maj Conrad Fernandes is seen behind.

Ladki, Mangal and the World I Grew Up In

 

Ladki, Mangal and the World I Grew Up In

John Aguiar

My mother used to tell me that I was breastfed until I was about five years old. Whether I remember those early years clearly or not, one thing I do remember is how much care my mother took to ensure that I always had enough milk.

My parents bought a goat and named her Ladki. She became a part of our family, and I grew up playing with her. I remember watching her grow and, later, the excitement in our home when she delivered a kid. For us children, it was almost like welcoming a new member into the family.

There was another special occasion associated with it. We got our first taste of the delicious steamed milk pudding known as Kharvas in Marathi, called Poss in Goan tradition. It was not something we simply bought from a shop. It came from our own animal and was prepared at home. That made it all the more special.

My mother later purchased a cow so that I would have a regular supply of milk. She named her Mangal, because she had been purchased on a Tuesday. Mangal was not merely a cow kept for milk. She became my friend.

Whenever I called her, she would respond and come towards me. She loved being pampered, and I enjoyed spending time with her. To a child, an animal that recognises your voice and responds to your call is something magical. There was a bond between us that did not need words.

Over the years, the goats and cows multiplied. What had begun with one goat and one cow gradually became a small herd. My mother took responsibility not only for feeding them and providing milk but also for their general well-being.

Of course, keeping animals was not always peaceful.

There were occasions when the animals wandered into somebody's field and we would receive complaints. Sometimes the cattle strayed onto the roads and the municipality would catch them and take them away. My mother would then have to go through the process of getting them released, including paying the prescribed fine.

Whenever an animal fell ill, doctors from the Animal Husbandry Department would come and examine and treat them. I grew up watching my mother attend to these animals with the same concern and affection that she had for her family.

My mother also supplied milk to a fixed group of customers. Thus, our home became a small world centred around animals, milk and everyday rural life.

Looking back, I realise how fortunate I was.

I grew up with the smell of cow dung, cow urine and goat pellets around me. At that age, I never thought of these things as unpleasant. They were simply part of my surroundings and part of my childhood. Along with cows and goats, there were dogs and hens too. Animals were not something I merely saw from a distance or in a zoo. They were companions in my everyday life.

Today, when I look back, I feel lucky to have experienced that childhood.

Ladki, Mangal, the goats, cows, dogs and hens were not merely animals. They were part of my growing-up years. They taught me, without a textbook or a classroom, about affection, responsibility, patience and the bond between humans and animals.

Most importantly, they remind me of my mother.

She was the one who cared for them, fed them, treated them when they were ill, dealt with complaints when they strayed, brought them back when they were taken away, and ensured that her children received fresh milk.

Those memories have stayed with me for a lifetime.

Sometimes, the richest memories of childhood are not about expensive toys, holidays or grand occasions. They are about a goat called Ladki, a cow called Mangal, the excitement of a newborn kid, a bowl of homemade Kharvas, and a mother whose love extended to every living creature under her care.

That was the world I grew up in—and I consider myself fortunate to have lived it.

Towards Building a Prosperous, Self-Reliant and Culturally Proud Goa: The Visionary Leadership of Chief Minister Dr. Pramod Sawant

 Towards Building a Prosperous, Self-Reliant and Culturally Proud Goa: The Visionary Leadership of Chief Minister Dr. Pramod Sawant

– John Aguiar

Goa is not merely the smallest state in India; it is a land renowned for its rich cultural heritage, high literacy, social harmony, and progressive development. In an era of rapid change, sustaining the pace of development while preserving Goa's language, culture, traditions, and identity has become one of the state's greatest responsibilities. Under the leadership of Chief Minister Dr. Pramod Sawant, the Government of Goa has undertaken several initiatives that seek to strike a balance between development and the preservation of Goa's unique cultural heritage.

Development is not confined to the construction of roads, bridges, and buildings. True development means creating equal opportunities for every citizen, ensuring access to quality education, healthcare, employment, transparent governance, environmental protection, and the preservation of cultural identity. The state government has taken significant steps in all these areas.

Konkani Language Requirement for Government Employment – Safeguarding Goa's Identity

The decision to make knowledge of the Konkani language a requirement for government employment has the potential to become a significant milestone in Goa's cultural history.

Konkani is not merely a means of communication; it represents Goa's identity, culture, traditions, folklore, history, and collective pride. Following Goa's Liberation, countless writers, social activists, and language enthusiasts struggled for years to secure official language status for Konkani. Providing the language with its rightful place in governance is therefore both timely and appropriate.

Government officials and employees serve the people and interact directly with citizens. Understanding the concerns of local communities and responding effectively to them requires familiarity with the local language. A government employee who knows Konkani is better equipped to communicate with citizens and deliver services with greater sensitivity and efficiency.

Several Indian states require proficiency in the local language for public service. Therefore, introducing a similar requirement in Goa is both reasonable and in the larger interest of the state.

This decision is not directed against any other language. Rather, it is intended to safeguard Goa's linguistic identity. It is also expected to encourage students to learn Konkani and contribute to the preservation of the language for future generations.

Progress in Education

Education forms the foundation of Goa's development. The government has taken several initiatives to promote modern education, digital learning, skill development, higher education, and research.

Special emphasis is being placed on providing quality education, scholarships, vocational training, and employment-oriented courses so that Goa's youth are well prepared to meet the challenges of an increasingly competitive world.

Expansion of Healthcare Services

A healthy society depends upon a strong healthcare system. The government continues to modernize public hospitals, strengthen healthcare infrastructure, improve preventive healthcare, promote maternal and child health, and provide access to advanced medical treatment.

The expansion of facilities at Goa Medical College and other healthcare institutions has significantly contributed to improving public health services.

Development of Infrastructure

Economic growth depends greatly on robust infrastructure, including roads, bridges, electricity, water supply, digital connectivity, and public transport.

While expanding infrastructure to support tourism, industry, and commerce, the government has also emphasized the importance of protecting Goa's fragile environment.

Employment and Industrial Development

To create employment opportunities for young people, the government has encouraged industries, tourism, start-ups, entrepreneurship, and skill development.

Various schemes are aimed at enabling local youth not only to seek employment but also to become job creators through entrepreneurship.

Digital Governance and Transparency

The expansion of e-governance has made numerous government services accessible online, reducing the need for citizens to make repeated visits to government offices. Digital governance has enhanced transparency, efficiency, accountability, and the overall delivery of public services.

Women and Youth Empowerment

The government has introduced several initiatives to promote the economic, educational, and social empowerment of women. Equal emphasis has been placed on skill development, sports, leadership training, and employment opportunities for young people.

Environmental Conservation

Goa's natural beauty lies in its beaches, rivers, forests, hills, and extraordinary biodiversity. Therefore, environmental conservation must go hand in hand with development.

The government's initiatives in sanitation, water conservation, waste management, renewable energy, and sustainable development are important steps towards preserving Goa's natural heritage.

The Importance of Public Participation

No government can achieve development alone. Active participation by citizens, village panchayats, educational institutions, non-governmental organizations, and social bodies is essential for sustainable progress.

When society actively supports constructive government initiatives, the pace and effectiveness of development are significantly enhanced.

Conclusion

Goa's progress must be measured not only in economic terms but also through balanced social, cultural, and environmental development. The initiatives undertaken under the leadership of Chief Minister Dr. Pramod Sawant in the fields of education, healthcare, infrastructure, digital governance, youth empowerment, environmental conservation, and the promotion of the Konkani language represent important steps towards the state's comprehensive development.

In particular, making knowledge of Konkani a requirement for government employment is a forward-looking measure aimed at preserving Goa's cultural identity while strengthening citizen-centric governance.

Only by safeguarding Goa's development, language, culture, and self-respect together can the state build a prosperous, self-reliant, culturally vibrant, and truly inspiring future for generations to come.

Goa's Brave Legacy: From Susegad to Soldier

 Goa's Brave Legacy: From Susegad to Soldier 

 Goa's Contribution to India's Defence

By John Aguiar 

 When the word "Goan" is mentioned, the image that often comes to mind is that of a guitar in hand, music in the air, vibrant village feasts, football, beaches, and the relaxed spirit of susegad. It is also commonly believed that Goans prefer the comforts of home and are reluctant to leave their beloved land. Yet history tells a very different story.

 Whenever the nation has called, Goans have willingly exchanged the guitar for the rifle, the stage for the battlefield, and the comfort of home for the harsh frontiers of the country. From the icy heights of Siachen to the scorching deserts of Rajasthan, from the skies above to the depths of the oceans, Goans have served India with extraordinary courage, professionalism, and sacrifice. As India commemorates the 27th anniversary of Operation Vijay, it is fitting to remember the remarkable contribution of Goa to the Indian Armed Forces. Leadership at the Highest Level Though India's smallest state, Goa has produced military leaders of exceptional stature. General Sunith Francis Rodrigues, a proud son of Curtorim, served as the Chief of Army Staff (1990–1993), providing visionary leadership during a critical period in India's military history before later serving as the Governor of Punjab. The Indian Air Force was led by Air Chief Marshal Hrishikesh Moolgavkar, one of India's finest aviators, who flew over sixty different aircraft and served as Chief of Air Staff (1976–1978). The seas too witnessed Goan leadership through Vice Admiral John Colin De Silva, who served as Vice Chief of Naval Staff and later as Director General of the Indian Coast Guard. Courage Beyond Imagination Few stories in military history equal that of Major General Ian Cardozo. Seriously wounded during the 1971 Indo-Pak War, he displayed unimaginable courage by amputating his own injured leg with a khukri to save his life. Refusing to let disability define him, he became the first differently-abled officer to command an Infantry Battalion in the Indian Army, inspiring generations of soldiers. His life remains a shining example of the fighting spirit that Goa has given the nation. Strategic Leadership Goans have excelled not only in combat but also in strategic military leadership. 

Among them are: Air Marshal Sandesh Wagle, who served as Deputy to the Chief of Defence Staff. Air Vice Marshal Sunil Nandodkar, who has contributed significantly to the modernization of the Indian Air Force. Major General Christopher Fernandes. Brigadier Anil Pereira, Sena Medal, recognised for distinguished service and counter-insurgency operations. A Tradition of Service Since Goa's liberation in 1961, increasing numbers of young Goans have joined the National Defence Academy and other military academies. For many Goan families, especially those with long military traditions, wearing the uniform is not merely a profession—it is a legacy passed down through generations. Among those who have brought honour to Goa are: Lt. Gen. Francis Tiburtius "Dick" Dias, Vir Chakra. Lt. Gen. Sumer Ivan D'Cunha, PVSM, Director General Army Air Defence. Lt. Gen. Michael Jude Fernandes, PVSM, AVSM, SM, Commandant of the Officers Training Academy. Colonel Jesus Benino Furtado, whose journey from NCC cadet to Commanding Officer is an inspiration to countless youth. Gallantry Across the Services Goa has produced decorated soldiers, sailors and air warriors whose courage has earned national recognition. Among them are: Lt. Gen. W.A.G. Pinto, remembered as the "Victor of Basantar." 2nd Lt. Jayendra Jaising Rane, Vir Chakra (Posthumous). Lt. Cdr. J.P.A. Noronha, Maha Vir Chakra. Colonel Ivan Joseph Crasto, Kirti Chakra, honoured for the daring Timber Trail rescue. Wing Commander Clarence D'Lima, Vayu Sena Medal. Lt. Narendra Mayekar, Kirti Chakra. Colonel Amit Anand Parab, Sena Medal (Gallantry). Major Cliff Franco D'Souza, recognised for exceptional courage during counter-insurgency operations in Kashmir. Service Beyond the Battlefield Goans have also distinguished themselves in military medicine. Doctors such as the late Captain Dr. Avadhut Prabhudessai, Group Captain Dr. Jeevash Wagle, Major Dr. Padmini Prabhudessai and Lt. Col. Dr. Vinod Salkar have served soldiers in some of India's most difficult operational areas. Similarly, Army Dental Corps officers including Lt. Col. Dr. Parag Prabhudessai, Lt. Col. Dr. Nitin Raikar and Lt. Col. Dr. Pravinkumar Shirodkar have rendered outstanding service to the Armed Forces.

 Their dedication reminds us that military service extends far beyond the battlefield. The New Generation The tradition continues through a new generation of Goan officers. Among them are Kargil veteran and Member of Parliament Captain Viriato Fernandes, Captain Ashutosh Pednekar, Captain Dr. Tejas Kolvekar and numerous young officers serving in the Army, Navy and Air Force. Captain Dr. Tejas Nitin Kolvekar's selection to the prestigious Remount Veterinary Corps reflects the growing presence of Goans in specialised branches of the Armed Forces. Goan officers continue to serve with distinction in Army Aviation, Artillery, Engineers, Signals, Air Defence, Medical Services and many other specialised arms. 

Goa is proud of Wing Commander Maria Ismenia Sancha Pereira.for her action during operation Sindoor.

Wg Cdr Uvena Fernandes  is a former International football player and was a FIFA Assistant Referee from 2014 to 2024. She is  the first and the only lady cadet to be appointed as Academy Cadet Captain in IAF academy.

She has been awarded for her achievements in football by Asian Football Confederation (AFC), All India Football Federation, Goa State and also felicitated by Delhi Commission for women for empowering women. She has also received CAS commendation in the year 2021.  Capt Dean Xavier mendonce, Capt Dr Dolores, Late Capt. Dr Avdut Prabhudesai,  Lt Cdr Gaurish Sawant, lt. commander Chrishtoper Fernandes, Lt Commander Leo Dias. In music , we have Commander vijay de Souza making Goans proud.

Kargil: 

A Legacy That Inspires Operation Vijay was a defining chapter in India's military history. The victory achieved on the icy heights of Kargil was made possible by the courage, determination and sacrifice of countless soldiers. Goans proudly stood among those brave men who defended every inch of Indian territory. Their service reminds us that patriotism is not measured by the size of a state but by the depth of commitment of its people. Nation First Goa may be famous for its beaches, music and hospitality, but its greatest contribution to India lies in the courage of its sons and daughters in uniform. The same Goan who celebrates village feasts with music and dance stands like an immovable rock when entrusted with defending the nation. Behind every smiling face lies an unwavering commitment to duty, honour and sacrifice. 

On the 27th anniversary of Operation Vijay, we salute every Goan who has served—and continues to serve—in the Indian Armed Forces. Their stories remind us that while Goa is India's smallest state geographically, its contribution to the nation's defence is truly monumental. There are also names such as Lt. Col. Milind Prabhu,Commodore Sanjay De Cunha of the Indian Navy; Colonel Dhondiraj Samant and Colonel Balkrishna Shirodkar, Lt Col. Austin Colaco, Lt. Col. Umesh Bhatikar  respected senior Army officers;  

The proud military tradition of Goa continues through a new generation of officers who are serving the nation with distinction across the Army, Navy and Air Force. Among them are Lt. Col. Prasad Pascal D'Silva, Lt. Col. Ramchandra Talwadkar, and Lt. Col. Shriman Pednekar, Wing Commander Fernando da Costa who have served with dedication in various operational and leadership appointments.

The Indian Air Force too has seen outstanding representation from Goa through officers such as Wing Commander Neha Marathe, Wing Commander Rashmi Prabhu, Wing Commander Prerna Desai, Wing Commander Rahul Verekar, each contributing to the operational excellence of the Air Force in diverse roles.

Adding to this proud legacy is Lieutenant Dr. Ishana Barreto, one of Goa's newest commissioned officers in the Army Medical Corps. 

Her commissioning reflects the continued enthusiasm of Goan youth to serve the nation and reinforces Goa's long-standing contribution to the Armed Forces. Along with officers such as Captain Dr. Tejas Nitin Kolvekar, who serves in the Remount Veterinary Corps, the new generation is carrying forward Goa's proud tradition of military service with professionalism, courage and patriotism. 

Jai Hind.