
It was like watching a low-budget remake of a despot’s courtroom drama—except it took place not in some banana republic, but in the corridors of a government hospital in Goa. Their Health Minister, who seems to think his job includes auditioning for a reality TV role titled India’s Angry Bosses, barged into the Goa Medical College Hospital (GMCH), hunted down the Chief Medical Officer, Dr. Rudresh Kurtikar, and did what any camera-loving authority figure would do these days—humiliate the man in full public view, for the cameras, with the moral courage of a bully backed by political muscle.
What was Dr. Kurtikar’s crime, you ask? Did he siphon off hospital funds? Conduct organ trade in the basement? No. A journalist’s mother allegedly didn’t get timely care. And suddenly, the Health Minister, full of righteous indignation, and followed conveniently by a TV crew (coincidence, I’m sure), decided it was time to show who’s boss.
He didn’t stop at a scolding. No sir! He suspended him and demanded that security escort the doctor out. A top medical officer. In front of his juniors. In front of the staff who had likely worked through the night keeping patients alive. One moment you’re saving lives, the next you’re being marched out like a pickpocket in a soap opera.
My dear Minister, here’s a little memo from the people of India: You are not the owner of the hospital. You’re not even the manager. You are a representative. Elected by us, paid by us, and expected to serve us.
What happened to dialogue? What happened to decency? More importantly, what happened to dignity?

You don’t fix a system by breaking its spine. You don’t improve a hospital by insulting its chief healer. Would you have shouted at the captain mid-flight if the plane food was bad? Or told your driver to slap the traffic commissioner because your route had potholes?
This kind of public flogging doesn’t raise standards. It lowers morale. It sends a message—that power is louder than reason. That fear is more effective than reform.
But here’s the kicker: When you humiliate a top man in front of his team, you don’t just break a person—you break a system. We create CEOs and managers so that those below will obey them, when you humiliate them in front of his subordinates, you destroy order and create future chaos.
India doesn’t need ministers with volcanic egos and television dreams. We need servant leaders—the kind who lead by example, listen before they lash, and build systems, not break them.
So, Mr. Minister, if the government still believes in retaining you, next time you visit a hospital, leave the cameras at home, take your ego off like you would your shoes at a temple, and walk in not like a boss—but like a steward. Because this isn’t your kingdom.
It’s our country….!bobsbanter@gmail.com