A JCB tears into the wooden extension of the controversial Romeo Lane club and restaurant at Ozrant, Vagator, on Tuesday.
THE GOAN | MAPUSA
Reeling under public outrage following the Birch by Romeo Lane inferno that killed 25 people, the government on Tuesday scrambled to project action – but ended up exposing its own long-running complicity and inertia.
In a hastily arranged, police-supervised operation, authorities demolished only the encroached portion of the Romeo Lane club and restaurant at Vagator, leaving the main structure – long accused of violations – untouched.
This partial, selective demolition has raised far more questions than it has answered.
The same beach-side encroachment has been demolished three times in the past by the club proponents and once by the Tourism Department, only to reappear with impunity.
Each time the club’s promoters rebuilt the illegal structure and each time the government conveniently looked away, allowing a blatant mockery of the law to flourish on prime coastal land.
On Tuesday, as a JCB tore down the flimsy wooden extensions, Deputy Director of Tourism Dhiraj Vagle confirmed that only the 198 sq. metres portion intruding onto tourism land was being removed. The main Romeo Lane restaurant – located on private property – was left intact.
But locals see through what they call a desperate, post-tragedy performance.
“This demolition is pure eyewash,” said Mahesh Dabholkar, a long-time resident who has repeatedly flagged the unchecked violations at Vagator.
“The government does this only when under pressure. The real question is: how did the department allow the illegal structure to come up again and again? Everyone can see the collusion,” he added.
His frustration echoes a sentiment now widespread along the coast: that regulatory agencies have allowed certain establishments – like those linked to the Luthra brothers, who own both Romeo Lane and the ill-fated Birch by Romeo Lane – to operate above the law for years.
The fire tragedy has only magnified what residents say is a well-oiled system of selective blindness and bureaucratic indulgence.
Even more damning is the fact that the Tourism Department had previously demolished this exact structure earlier this year. Yet it rose again, brick for brick, timber for timber – proving that enforcement exists only on paper, while offenders continue business as usual.
The department’s inability, or unwillingness, to prevent reconstruction speaks volumes about the deeper rot in oversight mechanisms.
Residents also point to a growing cluster of hilltop structures in Vagator that mysteriously obtain licences despite clear environmental and planning restrictions.
“If the government really wants to prove it isn’t shielding anyone, let it investigate how half these hill structures got permissions,” Dabholkar said.
As the dust settles over the token demolition, one fact stands out starkly: the government’s sudden display of activity comes not from commitment to rule of law, but from the compulsion of public anger after a deadly disaster.
Tuesday’s exercise was less enforcement – and more a stage-managed attempt to deflect scrutiny from years of failure to act against repeated, blatant violations.
For many in Vagator, the real fear is that once the outrage subsides, the cycle will simply repeat – illegal structures rising again while authorities return to their trademark silence.
