When Bhagwant Mann announced on X that Punjab would “eliminate” stray dogs following the Supreme Court observations, the message travelled much faster than the municipal dog catching vans ever could.

Panic spread among animal lovers, while many imagined local body teams fanning out with nets across Punjab’s streets. Soon, the backlash arrived, that too from glamorous quarters. Sonu Sood appealed for compassion, while Raveena Tandon and Sonam Bajwa publicly urged the government to adopt humane methods like sterilisation, shelters, and vaccination instead of turning the campaign into a “death sentence for voiceless animals”.

The government quickly realised that stray dogs bite, but social media bites harder. What followed was a royal retreat. The language softened, clarifications appeared, and the focus quietly shifted from “elimination” to “management”.

Sick leave and ‘pen paralysis’ in Punjab bureaucracy

Punjab’s officials seem to have discovered a new administrative principle when trouble brews. It is to keep the pen capped.

After the Enforcement Directorate action against some builders over changes in land use cases, nervousness has quietly spread through the state’s offices. An IAS officer, sources said, has stopped signing files linked to such matters altogether. Another has proceeded on sick leave, and some others are contemplating leave.

The sudden caution is hard to miss, and so are the whispers in official circles. Files that once moved briskly are now being examined as if they were question papers for a civil services exam.

Every note, every approval, and every signature is being weighed carefully. Officers privately admit that what was once considered a routine administrative decision now carries the fear of future scrutiny. The mood in the bureaucracy, therefore, is simple, especially in the election year: it is better to delay a file than explain it later to investigators. In Punjab these days, hesitation is the new governance model.

Cultural shock awaits Surjit Singh Rakhra

When former SAD leader Surjit Singh Rakhra joined the Aam Aadmi Party, it gave the ruling party a much-needed morale boost. At a time when defections have hurt the party and one of its ministers has been arrested by ED while others are said to be anxious, Rakhra’s choice of the AAP over rival parties carried symbolic value.

But inside the AAP, the chatter was less celebratory and more curious. “Rakhra sahib used to dine with Parkash Singh Badal or Sukhbir Singh Badal almost every week. He had direct access and personal warmth. Even then, his loyalty did not survive,” remarked an AAP MLA with a chuckle. “In AAP, getting time from the top leadership itself takes months. What exactly will Rakhra do here? He will certainly get a cultural shock,” the legislator wondered, only half in jest.

Anxiety over Rs 1,000 per month

Ever since the arrest of Cabinet minister Sanjeev Arora, anxious whispers have grown louder within the AAP’s grassroots ranks. The biggest concern is not political optics but money, particularly for the women’s financial assistance scheme scheduled to launch in July. In party circles, Arora was often seen as the government’s chief troubleshooter on finances, the man expected to somehow keep the cash flowing.

Arora’s aggressive push to monetise and sell government land not only earned him the image of a minister permanently operating in fast-forward mode but also criticism. Officials in the power sector had resisted some of his proposals, but Arora was known for bulldozing his way through bureaucratic resistance. Now, with Arora under arrest, uncertainty has replaced confidence. Files are moving more slowly, officials are cautious, and AAP workers are asking uncomfortable questions. As one insider put it, “The government suddenly looks like a ship without a sail…and July is coming fast.”