Ludhiana is reeling from the sudden and heartbreaking death of Aam Aadmi Party MLA Gurpreet Bassi Gogi, a leader known not just for his political work, but for the warmth and energy he brought to everyone he met.
The 58-year-old legislator from Ludhiana West reportedly died late Friday night after a gunshot wound to the head. Authorities say it appears to have been an accidental firing while Gogi was cleaning his licensed pistol at home. Though investigators are still piecing together the details, his death has already sent shockwaves through the community.
A Quiet Evening Turns Tragic
It was supposed to be a normal night. Just hours before the incident, Gogi was in meetings, working on plans to clean up the Buddha Nullah, one of Ludhiana’s most pressing environmental issues. He met with Vidhan Sabha Speaker Kultar Singh Sandhwan and MP Balbir Singh Seechewal, passionate as ever about getting results for his city.
Later that night, around 11:30 p.m., a gunshot rang out from inside Gogi’s Ghumar Mandi home. Family members, startled by the sound, rushed in to find him on the ground. Despite being rushed to Dayanand Medical College and Hospital, doctors declared him dead on arrival.
“He was full of energy the whole day,” said a close aide. “We never imagined the day would end like this.”
“He Wasn’t Just Our MLA—He Was One of Us”
The mood in Ludhiana West on Saturday morning was heavy. Outside Gogi’s home, supporters, neighbors, and friends gathered in silence, many with tears in their eyes. To them, he wasn’t just an elected official. He was the man who showed up when the power went out, who helped families during floods, who remembered people’s names and birthdays.
“He was the kind of person who never ignored a call, even in the middle of the night,” said Amanpreet Kaur, a local resident. “He helped my brother get a job. He didn’t do it for votes—he did it because he cared.”
A Lifelong Servant of the People
Gogi’s political journey started in 1996 with the Congress Party, where he served as a municipal councillor for three straight terms. Over the years, he built a reputation for being grounded and approachable. In 2021, he made a bold move to join the Aam Aadmi Party, believing he could make more of a difference. That belief paid off in 2022, when he won the Ludhiana West assembly seat, defeating two-time MLA Bharat Bhushan Ashu.
Colleagues say Gogi brought a tireless work ethic and deep understanding of local issues to his role in the Punjab Assembly. Whether it was infrastructure, education, or pollution, he was never afraid to get his hands dirty—literally and politically.
“He would show up at a construction site wearing sandals and a kurta, ready to talk to laborers, engineers, anyone,” recalled a fellow AAP legislator. “That was Gogi.”
Reactions from Across the State
News of his death prompted an outpouring of grief from political leaders across parties. Chief Minister Bhagwant Mann described Gogi as “a deeply committed leader and a friend who cared about every corner of his constituency.”
AAP leader Aman Arora echoed the sentiments, saying, “Punjab has lost a bright and hardworking voice. His passing is a loss not just to our party, but to the people he served with so much heart.”
Many leaders canceled scheduled events to attend his funeral, which is expected to take place with full honors in Ludhiana.
“This Doesn’t Feel Real”
Even as official statements were being released, those closest to Gogi struggled to accept the reality.
“This doesn’t feel real,” one staff member said quietly, standing outside the MLA’s house. “He was supposed to meet us tomorrow morning for a site inspection. He was so excited about the project. Now… he’s gone.”
As investigators finalize their report, early signs suggest no foul play, but rather a tragic accident involving a misfire while Gogi was cleaning his licensed firearm.
A Community in Mourning
For Ludhiana West, Gurpreet Gogi’s death is more than just a headline—it’s a deeply personal loss. He leaves behind a legacy of service, compassion, and approachability that few politicians can claim.
“He made us feel seen,” said one voter. “And now all we can do is try to honor what he stood for.”
The flags outside his office now fly at half-mast. The office itself is quiet—phones still ringing, messages still coming in. But the man who answered every call with a warm “haanji, ki gal?” is no longer there. And his absence is already being felt, far and wide.
