Two crises erupting within days — Indigo’s spectacular operational collapse and Goa’s horrifying Birth Club inferno — have placed the 12-year-old Narendra Modi–led NDA government in an unusual position: on the defensive, not before a roaring Opposition in Parliament, but before an unforgiving and unusually united media. For once, the criticism didn’t come from political benches distracted by their own compulsions, but from national newsrooms that accused the government of silence, inaction, and inexplicable leniency. To its credit, the media’s scrutiny this time was justified. The Indigo meltdown was not a surprise event; it was a preventable crisis that had been clearly flagged. A Parliamentary Standing Committee had recommended tightening oversight and making the Directorate General of Civil Aviation (DGCA) accountable in implementing new norms. Yet, the very airline that dominates nearly 95% of the domestic market along with Air India — operating almost as a duopoly — was given extraordinary room to bend rules and push operational stress to a breaking point. Airport terminals across metros descended into chaos for nearly five days. Genuine passengers slept on terminal floors, shouted down helpless airline staff, and chased information that never came. Social media boiled; TV channels replayed the same scenes of fury, confusion, and despair in looped broadcasts to fill their primetime hours. What aggravated the situation was the Ministry of Civil Aviation’s strangely slow response. Minister Rammohan Naidu’s prolonged silence did not help public confidence; nor did the absence of any immediate accountability from DGCA, which had cleared Indigo’s ambitious winter schedule despite warnings about pilot shortages and crew fatigue. It took a barrage of media criticism — and the political embarrassment of appearing indifferent — for Prime Minister Modi to finally crack the whip. But once he did, the shift was unmistakable. The aviation minister snapped into action, issuing the sternest reprimand yet to DGCA, ordering operational reviews, and penalising Indigo by clipping 5% of its scheduled routes. Other private airlines were brought in to temporarily cover the affected sectors, easing pressure and restoring some basic sanity in the system.
To Indigo’s credit, the airline eventually managed to reduce cancellations sharply and cleared pending baggage backlogs. By the sixth day, normalcy began returning to airports that had briefly resembled battlegrounds. Yet, the episode leaves a lingering question: why should the Prime Minister need to intervene every time basics fail? Is regulatory oversight so weak that only a political nudge can restore order? The second crisis — the Goa Birth Club tragedy, where at least 29 people were burnt alive in an illegally constructed, lavishly marketed nightclub — presents an even more troubling reflection of administrative lethargy. The structure had reportedly violated multiple norms, operated without required permissions, and was an open secret in local circles. That such a firetrap could run openly for months points not merely to negligence but to a deeper, systemic nexus of political patronage and inspector-raj complacency. Here too, Modi’s “dose” was visible the moment national outrage peaked. The goa Chief minister snapped into bulldozer mode, demolition squads rolled out, and investigative agencies picked up momentum. But the most damning blot remains: the Luthra brothers, owners of the illegal club, managed to flee the country — reportedly on an indigo flight, no less. That alone exposes gaping holes in coordination between state authorities, immigration, and central alerts. If the government wants to reclaim credibility, cosmetic demolition drives won’t suffice. Goa should immediately freeze the Luthra’s’ bank accounts, attach properties, and initiate extradition proceedings. Allowing the accused to vanish while conducting post-tragedy theatrics only deepens the perception of selective governance. What these twin crises reveal is not a lack of intent at the top but a troubling pattern of delayed response, weak regulatory enforcement, and systemic complacency. Modi’s intervention may have stabilised the situation, but governance cannot be crisis-management alone. A government in its twelfth year cannot rely on last-minute fire-fighting; it must build systems that prevent such disasters in the first place. If anything, these incidents are a timely reminder: public patience is not infinite, and even the most powerful governments cannot afford to act only after the flames have already risen — whether on an airport tarmac or a nightclub rooftop.
