MAPUSA
For most of Goa, the extended Independence Day weekend was one of relaxation and celebration. But along the Vagator-Anjuna coastline, it was a nightmare that refused to end.
From Thursday night through the wee hours of Monday morning, dozens of nightclubs and restaurants turned the coastal belt into a thumping wall of sound.
Residents say the music this year was not just loud – it was deafening, worse than anything they had experienced in the past.
“It was horrible. I live in Assagao, three kilometres away, and could hear the loud music as if it was next door. Imagine what the people in Ozrant and Vagator went through,” said Desmond Alvares, one of the most vocal campaigners against noise pollution.
The names of the venues rolled off his tongue like a never-ending playlist. Each, he alleged, was blasting trance music that carried well beyond the permissible decibel limits – and well beyond the court-mandated cut-off time.
Sleepless nights,
clogged streets
But sleepless nights were only part of the ordeal. The sudden rush of holiday traffic choked every narrow village road. Even at 2 am, long queues of cars stood bumper to bumper, honking, revving, and adding another layer of noise to an already maddening scene.
“Every street in the village was blocked. It was chaos. Students, senior citizens, everyone suffered,” said Jawish Moniz, a resident of Vagator.
“This year, the parties were louder, more in number, and continued till sunrise,” he added.
For locals, the feeling was one of helplessness – and betrayal.
Tourism versus local life
What angers locals most is the sense that the law is applied selectively. While ordinary residents spend sleepless nights, clubs seem to operate with impunity. Many believe political patronage shields the nightlife industry, leaving enforcement agencies reluctant to act.
“This is all the handiwork of local politicians, with active participation of the Anjuna police and the Pollution Control Board,” Alvares alleged.
Residents like Moniz say they do not oppose tourism.
“We want tourism and local life to coexist peacefully. But not like this. Not at the cost of our health, our peace, and our dignity,” he said.
The irony of celebration
On a weekend meant to mark India’s independence, Vagator and Anjuna’s residents say they felt anything but free. Free from sleep, free from silence, free from any sense that the law protected them.
As the thumping bass lines faded only at dawn each day, what remained was anger, exhaustion and the growing belief that until authorities choose to act, the nightmare of Goa’s coastal residents will repeat itself every holiday weekend.
Complaints fall on deaf ears
Residents dialed every possible authority: the Anjuna police, the DySP, the SP, even the Goa State Pollution Control Board.
Dozens of complaints were lodged, complete with PCR IDs. One complaint even made it to the Chief Minister’s 24x7 helpline, which promptly acknowledged it with a message citing “Grievance Ack No. 146411.” But nothing changed on the ground.
“The police did nothing, didn’t even flinch. It was total disobedience of the High Court orders,” said Alvares.
Noise activist Dr Inacio Fernandes said the volume of complaints was unprecedented.
“I alone collected 70 complaint IDs. There were definitely more. This shows that the trust placed by the High Court in the monitoring authorities has been shattered. People believed the court’s order would act as a deterrent. But it hasn’t. The only way left may be for people to take to the streets in protest,” he said.
