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By:

Rajendra Joshi

3 December 2024 at 3:50:26 am

Procurement first, infrastructure later

Procurement at multiples of market price; equipment before infrastructure; no accountability Kolhapur: Maharashtra’s Medical Education and Public Health Departments have been on an aggressive drive to expand public healthcare infrastructure. Daily announcements of new centres, advanced equipment and expanded services have reassured citizens long denied dependable public healthcare. Procurement of medical equipment, medicines and surgical supplies is reportedly being undertaken at rates two to...

Procurement first, infrastructure later

Procurement at multiples of market price; equipment before infrastructure; no accountability Kolhapur: Maharashtra’s Medical Education and Public Health Departments have been on an aggressive drive to expand public healthcare infrastructure. Daily announcements of new centres, advanced equipment and expanded services have reassured citizens long denied dependable public healthcare. Procurement of medical equipment, medicines and surgical supplies is reportedly being undertaken at rates two to ten times higher than prevailing market prices. Basic economics dictates that bulk government procurement ought to secure better rates than private buyers, not worse. During the Covid-19 pandemic, equipment and consumables were procured at five to ten times the market rate, with government audit reports formally flagging these irregularities. Yet accountability has remained elusive. The pattern is illustrated vividly in Kolhapur. The Dean of Rajarshi Shahu Government Medical College announced that a PET scan machine worth Rs 35 crore would soon be installed at Chhatrapati Pramilaraje (CPR) Government Hospital for cancer diagnosis. But a comparable machine is available in the market for around Rs 6.5 crore. A senior cancer surgeon at a major cancer hospital in western Maharashtra, where a similar machine was recently installed, remarked that the gap between what his hospital paid and what the government is reportedly paying was enough to make one ‘feel dizzy’. The label of a ‘turnkey project’ does not adequately explain a price differential of this magnitude. High Costs CPR Hospital recently had a state-of-the-art IVF centre approved at a sanctioned cost of Rs 7.20 crore. Senior fertility specialists across Maharashtra note that even a modern IVF centre with advanced reproductive technology equipment typically costs between Rs 2.5 crore and Rs 3 crore. The state’s outlay is reportedly approaching Rs 15 crore. Equipment arrived in June 2025 and lay idle for months owing to indecision about the site. Similarly, digital X-ray machines approved for CPR Hospital and a government hospital in Nanded; available in the market for roughly Rs 1.5 crore; were reportedly procured at Rs 9.98 crore per unit. Doctors in CPR’s radiology department, apprehensive about being drawn into potential inquiries, reportedly resisted accepting the equipment. One departmental head was transferred amid disagreements over signing off on the proposal. What’s Wrong These cases point to a deeper structural failure: Maharashtra has perfected what might be called the ‘equipment first, infrastructure later’ model. In any public hospital, the administrative sequence ought to be: identify space, create infrastructure, sanction specialist posts, and only then procure equipment. Compounding the procurement paradox is a parallel policy decision. On 20 December 2025, the state government decided to introduce radiology diagnostic services through a Public-Private Partnership model (PPP). Following this, an order issued on 6 February 2026 authorised private operators to provide PET scan, MRI and CT scan services at six government medical college hospitals: in Pune, Kolhapur, Miraj, Sangli, Mumbai and Baramati. CPR already has a 126-slice CT scan machine and a 3 Tesla MRI scanner, with another CT scan proposed. If the PPP arrangement proceeds, the hospital could simultaneously run one PET scan machine, two MRI scanners and three CT scan machines. Medical experts warn this could lead to unnecessary diagnostic testing simply to keep machines occupied, thus exposing patients to excess radiation while government-owned equipment gathers dust. A similar pattern was seen during the pandemic, when the Medical Education Department spent hundreds of crores on RT-PCR machines, only to award swab-testing contracts to a private company. Many of those machines remain unused today.

Rain Reckoning

When rains flood Mumbai every year, a government is supposed to respond with action, not excuses. Instead, Maharashtra’s deputy chief minister Eknath Shinde blamed the early monsoon for throwing Mumbai’s infrastructure off-kilter. The absurdity of blaming nature for bureaucratic failure is only rivalled by the city’s continued suffering.


If the rains were supposed to schedule an appointment with Shinde before arriving, they clearly missed the memo. But his comment did more than just insult meteorology; it exposed instead the galling lack of preparedness, foresight and accountability of the Devendra Fadnavis-led Mahayuti government in Maharashtra.


Mumbai, India’s financial nerve centre, goes through the same wet trauma every year. It floods. Local trains stop. Roads vanish under water. And every time, ministers – regardless of the party (or parties) in power - step forward to offer the same ritualistic defence that the rain was unseasonal, unprecedented, or, as in this case, early.


To call this farce a ‘monsoon surprise’ is to pretend that history hasn’t been repeating itself for decades. This year’s chaos began with the first proper downpour itself as suburban railway services, particularly the Harbour line, collapsed under the weight of poor drainage and sodden infrastructure. Central Railway cancelled more than 50 trains while Western Railway shelved 18. The Acharya Atre metro station was rendered unusable. Whole neighbourhoods plunged into darkness, including parts of the upscale Napeansea Road. In a city that prides itself on grit and endurance, this was a familiar and exhausting déjà vu.


The problem was not when the rains came, but that nothing meaningful was done to prepare for them. Desilting of drains, a task that successive administrations claim to take seriously, was by all evidence either incomplete, ineffective or both. The newly constructed metro stations, touted as beacons of urban progress, could not even withstand their first monsoon shower.


This should prompt not excuses but resignations. The irony is rich. This is a government that has never shied away from ambitious infrastructural proclamations. Bullet trains, coastal roads, smart cities – the Mahayuti has mastered the art of grandiose proclamations and ribbon cuttings. But when it comes to protecting its citizens from ankle-deep water turning into waist-high peril, it shrugs.


In any functioning democracy, a government is expected to plan for the predictable. The monsoon is predictable. So is Mumbai’s vulnerability to it. The Mahayuti government, by failing to act on that knowledge, has signalled its own ineptitude and disregard for the city’s residents. Citizens are not asking for miracles. They are asking for working pumps, cleared drains, functioning trains and power that does not vanish with every cloudburst.


Instead, they are given rhetoric and blame-shifting. The rains are the new scapegoats. If only clouds could vote, the government might bother to listen. Until then, Mumbai will do what it always does - trudge, curse and carry on. But the electorate knows that for all the flooded metro stations and power failures, the monsoon did not fail Mumbai. Its leaders did.

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