In 2019, India lost a son, and Goa lost its fiercest protector. But for some of us, the loss was deeply personal. It was the passing of a man who did not merely occupy public office, but one who shaped minds, inspired action, and quietly demanded a higher standard of nationhood from those who watched him closely. Manohar Parrikar was not just a political leader to me – he was a catalyst.
In today’s political discourse, it has almost become fashionable to invoke Parrikar’s name. Many use it to score points, to claim ideological proximity, or to wrap themselves in borrowed credibility. But very few have truly understood what drove him. Parrikar was never a man chasing fame, nor was he interested in the optics of power. He was, at his core, a man on a mission – someone who believed he had come to discipline systems, to challenge complacency, and to push society towards a larger national purpose.
I did not arrive in Goa by accident. Nor did I choose to engage with public life here out of convenience. The decision was shaped, in no small measure, by the example Parrikar set. Here was a man who could have chosen a far more comfortable path – an IIT graduate with the world open to him – but instead chose service over self, Goa over global opportunity, and India over individual ambition.
What struck me most about Parrikar was not just his simplicity, which has now become the stuff of political folklore, but his clarity of intent. He understood governance not as a privilege, but as a responsibility. He did not believe in appeasement politics or populist shortcuts. He believed in order, in accountability, and in the idea that a society progresses only when its people are willing to work, not just demand.
In many ways, Parrikar embodied the spirit of what we today call ‘Viksit Bharat’ long before it became a national slogan. For him, development was not an abstract concept. It was visible in infrastructure, in education, in governance reforms, and most importantly, in the mindset of the people. He believed that Goa, despite its small size, could be a model for the rest of India – if only its people chose discipline over disorder, and long-term vision over short-term gain.
It was this belief that resonated with me. Watching Parrikar govern was like watching a craftsman at work – precise, focused, and unafraid to get his hands dirty. He did not distance himself from problems; he confronted them head-on. Whether it was cleaning up administrative inefficiencies or taking tough decisions that were not always politically convenient, Parrikar demonstrated that leadership is not about popularity – it is about responsibility.
That example stayed with me. It challenged me. It forced me to ask a simple but uncomfortable question: what does one do when one witnesses leadership of that calibre? Do you remain a spectator, or do you step forward and contribute?
For me, the answer was clear. If Parrikar could dedicate his life to Goa and India, then the least one could do was to contribute, in whatever capacity possible, towards that larger vision. Coming to Goa, engaging with its issues, and working towards a better Goa was not just a professional decision – it was a response to that inspiration.
But let us also be honest. Parrikar’s Goa is at a crossroads today. The very land he sought to protect is under pressure. The systems he tried to discipline are once again showing signs of strain. And the political culture he tried to elevate often slips back into the familiar patterns of expediency.
This is where merely remembering Parrikar is not enough. Quoting him is not enough. Using his name as a political shield is certainly not enough. The real tribute to Parrikar lies in emulating his approach – his integrity, his courage, and his uncompromising commitment to Goa and to India.
Parrikar did not believe in handouts; he believed in hard work. He did not believe in rhetoric; he believed in results. And most importantly, he did not believe that change would come from Delhi alone – he believed it had to begin in every constituency, every city, every village in Goa and every state in India.
As we speak of Viksit Bharat today, it is important to remember that this vision cannot be achieved through policy announcements alone. It requires citizens who are willing to think beyond themselves, to act beyond convenience, and to contribute beyond expectation. That is the lesson Parrikar left behind.
For me, his life continues to serve as a reminder that nation-building is not the responsibility of a few – it is the duty of all. It is a call to step forward, to engage, and to work towards a future that is worthy of the sacrifices made by leaders like him.
India did not just lose a son in 2019. It lost a rare kind of leader – one who combined intellect with integrity, authority with humility, and power with purpose. Goa did not just lose a Chief Minister. It lost a guardian.
But perhaps the greatest loss would be if we fail to carry forward what he stood for.
Manohar Parrikar did his part. The question is – will we do ours?
