Punjab Chief Minister Bhagwant Mann has once again come under the scanner, this time for turning a human tragedy into a political drama. His recent visit to a flood-hit area was exposed as a scripted show when it was revealed that the woman who appeared before him with folded hands and tears in her eyes was not a flood victim at all, but a party worker brought in to act out the role. At a time when lakhs of Punjabis are facing the harsh realities of floods, the Chief Minister chose to script emotions for the cameras rather than confront the pain of real victims.
The incident is nothing short of a betrayal of the people’s trust. While farmers watch their crops rot in water, families remain displaced, and children are going hungry, the state leadership is busy arranging actors to fake suffering. This was not a spontaneous meeting between a leader and his people but a carefully planned stunt designed to project false sensitivity. Once the photos and videos were shot, the truth spilled out, and with it came a wave of anger from the public.
Citizens have every right to feel cheated. What could be more insulting than manufacturing a scene of misery when thousands of families are genuinely drowning in problems? The Punjab government has repeatedly claimed that it stands with the people, but this exposure shows its priorities—headlines and photo opportunities, not relief and rehabilitation. Such theatrics prove that the state machinery is working harder to fool its own citizens than to provide them with food, shelter, or medical help.
The pattern is clear. Bhagwant Mann’s government has made a habit of putting image above action. Instead of ensuring timely distribution of aid, repairing damaged infrastructure, or compensating farmers, the administration spends its energy on gimmicks. This latest drama is not just embarrassing, it is shameful. It highlights a government that is quick to promise, slow to deliver, and eager to play to the gallery.
Meanwhile, the actual victims continue to suffer in silence. Entire villages remain cut off, relief is slow and insufficient, and many households have lost their livelihoods for the season. Volunteers and NGOs trying to step in have often complained of harassment and obstruction by the authorities. In such a grim scenario, staging a fake scene of grief is not only unethical but also cruel—it mocks the struggles of those who are still waiting for real help.
This controversy has badly damaged the credibility of the Chief Minister. Instead of being seen as a leader who stands shoulder to shoulder with his people in times of crisis, Bhagwant Mann is increasingly being viewed as someone more interested in acting than governing. His government’s reliance on scripted drama shows a dangerous disconnect from reality, and unless priorities change, the people’s frustration will only deepen.
Punjab does not need theatrics; it needs leadership. It does not need fake tears; it needs relief, rehabilitation, and accountability. No script can hide the truth that the government has failed to rise to the occasion. In the eyes of the people, this episode is proof that their pain has been reduced to a stage show, and their Chief Minister is the lead actor in it.