An ambitious new walkway links the Vishwanath Temple to Mother Ganga, raising questions of what is gained and what is lost.
By Anuradha Goyal, India
On a boat ride on the ganga river at Varanasi, I sat nostalgically observing the ghats and the vibrant life on them. I have been visiting this ancient city since childhood and have vivid memories of Ganga, its ghats, its boat rides and the air of divinity that they all carry. This time, the riverfront was dramatically different near Manikarnika ghat, as the new path to Kashi Vishwanath Temple has been laid. A massive staircase leads to a majestic gateway. It provides direct access to the temple from the river Ganga, enabling people to take a dip and do the darshan without wending through narrow lanes (“gullies”) to reach the temple.
Visually, the Kashi Vishwanath Corridor is a 21st-century stamp on the age-old crescent-shaped ghats, right in the middle of an old city best known for its narrow gullies leading to the ghats of Ganga on one end, and the main road leading to the rest of the city on the other. In a way, these gullies are as much a cultural heritage of Varanasi as the ghats and innumerable temples located in and around the ghats. To me, they are like the visual version of Indian scriptures. Each narrow street is a story in itself that leads you to another story. A detour will take you to yet another story. They are mazes that you can enjoy losing yourself in. A popular saying is, “Gaya Pinde, Prayag Munde and Kashi Dhoonde.” Connecting three important pilgrimage cities in India, it says that one goes to Gaya for Pinda Dana (the post-death ritual); to Prayag for Mundan (tonsuring of the hair); and to Kashi for Dhoonde, (searching), where one gets lost in the narrow lanes with multi-story houses on each side.
The corridor project was inaugurated with much fanfare in late 2021, after two years of construction, at a cost of US$38.5 million. It increased the area of the temple complex from a mere 3,000 square feet to about 500,000 square feet that can accommodate upwards of 50,000 people. Roughly 1,400 homes and businesses around the temple were relocated to clear space, tempering the network of interconnected gullies on the ghats. The government and the authorities described it as a major development project that would improve the experience of Varanasi.
Visitor Reactions
The corridor also drew criticism, most notably for the removal of numerous ancient temples to clear land for the project. Several of these smaller shrines held significance for certain yatras and rituals. During my recent two-month stay in Varanasi, I spoke with a wide range of people to hear their anonymous views on the project. Opinions, I found, are divided right down the middle.
Those who have visited the city only after the inauguration of the Kashi Vishwanath Corridor tend to admire it greatly. There are many more tourists visiting the sacred city after the corridor came up, casting a fresh spotlight on the city that was always atop devout Hindus’ pilgrimage lists. A big publicity campaign has brought the social-media-savvy younger generation to the city in hordes. Today you can see them on ghats, on boats, at famous eateries and in temples, shooting reels and adding to the euphoria of visiting Kashi.
People who had visited earlier, and see the clear difference between before and after, hold ambivalent views. On the positive side, many admire and appreciate the clean, open environment of the newly built corridor leading to the temple. The shrine itself has remained untouched. It stands as it was—built in 1780 by the queen of Malwa, Rani Ahilya Bai Holkar, and later adorned with gold by Maharaja Ranjit Singh of Punjab in 1835. More recently an anonymous devotee from South India donated additional gold for the temple. The area around the shrine has been cleared to form a vast courtyard, offering worshipers an unobstructed view of the temple. Two additional courtyards now extend the approach from the Ganga, creating broad, open avenues that guide pilgrims gently from the riverbanks into the heart of the temple precincts. Within the premises, new facilities have been added, including guest houses, eateries, bookshops, virtual reality darshan and secure locker options. Two expansive multi-purpose halls, called Trimbakeshwar Halls, are also part of the complex. These can be rented for private, religious, cultural or even corporate events near the temple.
New facilities include buying VIP tickets, called Sugam Darshan or easy darshan, that allow you to escape the long queues for a fee, which at the time of writing is US$3.40. This includes a shastri as your guide, a small box of prasad and a locker for your electronic items. Foreigners pay US$6.80 for the same and additionally get an angavastram (shawl-like garment) after passport verification. There is also a wheelchair service for the elderly and disabled. Walking from Godowlia towards Bansphatak, you often see wheelchair-bound devotees being guided to the darshan. This has been a real help, as navigating the narrow gullies was never easy for seniors or those with mobility challenges. The lanes often turn slippery after rains or when water is carried from the Ganga for the abhishek of Baba Vishwanath.
One point that often goes unnoticed is the greater sense of security provided by having multiple routes. Today, the temple can be accessed from three sides: the traditional Vishwanath Gully, the new gateway from the Ganga side, and a gate from the main road near Bansphatak. While there has not been a stampede here in recent times, relying on a single narrow entryway could have proved disastrous if one ever occurred. People also recall that many of the smaller temples were once poorly maintained—some unclean, some even without worship. Much of that filth has now been cleared, and after all, who doesn’t appreciate cleanliness!
On the downside, many pilgrims miss the informality of earlier visits. Before the 1990s, there were no checks at all to enter the temple. Later, some minor security measures were introduced, and once mobile phones became common, they were no longer allowed inside. But that was about it—there were no stringent checks. Devotees could stroll down the narrow Vishwanath Gully, slip in through the small gate, offer prayers or do abhishek, visit the smaller shrines, stop at the Annapurna Temple next door, and remain as long as they wished—or at least as long as the crowds of the moment allowed.
No one likes to be treated with suspicion when visiting the “Lord of the World.” The newly introduced security checks and long queues feel unwelcome and irritating. What devotees resent most is that darshan lasts no more than one or two seconds. Male and female staff stand on stools, literally pushing pilgrims forward the moment they reach the sanctum. For those who have traveled long distances for this sacred sight, it is deeply disappointing. Many also regret that sitting within the premises is no longer allowed, even though there is now more open space than ever. In practice, you are limited to a quick glance at the Shivalinga before being ushered away.
There is, of course, a facility to offer pujas and book Rudrabhishekas, with details listed on the temple’s website. Most of these must be reserved in advance, depending on availability. Still, for a pilgrim who simply wants to sit quietly, meditate, or spend time in the temple’s presence, such lingering is now discouraged.
Resident Reactions
What do the Kashi Vasis—residents of Varanasi—feel about this sweeping change that has so dramatically affected tourism in their city? They, too, are ambivalent. On the one hand, more tourists generally means more money in the hands of the locals, since the pilgrim economy is largely in their hands, with big hotels located away from the nerve center of activities—the ghats. Locals also appreciate the government for major improvements in infrastructure such as more reliable power supply, which used to be extremely erratic, and newly upgraded roads. Traffic now flows much better, with certain areas marked pedestrian, some restricted to cycle rickshaws and others allocated for e-rickshaws, which are key modes of transport in the old city. As in the rest of Uttar Pradesh, the law-and-order situation has improved dramatically, allowing people to move about and do business with a lot more confidence. Together, these changes brought by the corridor project have offered residents a better daily quality of life and created new opportunities for business and employment.
Residents also acknowledge that the city was in dire need of cleaning. Decades of accumulated garbage surrounded ancient temples, and tackling it would not have been possible without such a massive effort. The scale of the effort is also visible in the newly laid underground sewerage system, which has left the streets cleaner and easier to walk through. Bright wall paintings now line many lanes, adding splashes of color and offering scenes that reflect a quintessentially Banarasi character. My observation is that while authorities can take up cleaning efforts, it is the people of the city—and the visitors—to keep it clean. Both must recognize the spiritual significance of cleanliness. Yet there remains a gap, as it is still common to see garbage casually thrown wherever convenient.
As devotees of Mahadev, residents do have concerns, mostly about systems and processes at the temple. Many, especially the older generation, have a routine of taking a dip in Gangaji and then having darshan of Baba Vishwanath at dawn—sometimes as early as 4am. Their day began only after the snana and darshan. Now, after bathing in the Ganga, they must pass through security checks where they may be physically touched. Yet taking a dip in the Ganga is meant to purify oneself before entering the sacred dham, or abode of Shiva. The Sanskrit word for this is shaucha (purity), and any kind of touch is seen as ashaucha (impurity). An age-old tradition, once integral to the rhythm of life in Kashi, is thus being interrupted. Devotees also resent that the offerings they bring are taken away by the security staff and handled casually. Not being allowed to place the offerings themselves has left many feeling hurt and disappointed.
Additionally, long queues at the temple are not practical for local residents, who cannot afford to spend hours waiting. A small window of time has been allocated for locals to visit the temple through a gate but many find it difficult to fit into that schedule because of personal and professional constraints. Residents of Kashi have been asking for special access, suggesting that their Aadhaar cards could be used to verify local status. I understand that this could open a window for misuse, but automation—applied wisely—could offer a workable, compassionate solution.
Most people appreciate the building of the corridor, even though it came at the cost of some old temples. What they miss, however, is the earlier sense of informality and intimacy in visiting their beloved Vishwanath. The air of divinity is replaced with an air of authority. Yet, with a few thoughtful adjustments, I am sure the temple trust could restore a more relaxed, devotion-centered environment.
My Recent Explorations
In my own visits to the temple, I felt that the positive bhava—the uplifting emotion—was often overshadowed by the tedious entrance process. It is understandable that crowds must be managed so everyone can have darshan. Yet even during quieter times, the practice of quickly pushing devotees away continues, almost in a robotic manner. Flower offerings are tossed casually into a tub. It would feel more appropriate if an archaka received them, or at least if they were handled with greater respect, so that sentiments are not hurt. Or, perhaps devotees, with deep devotion in their hearts, could be allowed to offer flowers to an alternate Shivalinga.
I also looked through visitor reviews on travel sites, and many pilgrims echoed the same concerns about insensitive behavior and lack of clear information. The official temple website, too, needs a better user interface. Ideally, it should provide information in all major Indian as well as international languages. At the time of writing, only English and Hindi are available.
Around the temple, the road from Godowliya chowk to Dashashwamedha ghat has been made pedestrian, giving people more room to walk comfortably. Only two-wheelers are allowed, and the stretch is lined with large shops, with smaller hawkers and stalls in front. What was once a haphazard scene has been reorganized with coordinated signboards in matching colors and designs, making it more pleasing to the eye. Pilgrims now find it easier to reach the main ghat, where thousands—sometimes even lakhs—gather for the famous Ganga Arati. Until about 15 years ago, this dramatic ritual was unique to Dashashwamedha, but now nearly every ghat hosts its own aarti. The new platforms and decorations for these ceremonies have become a defining feature of the ghat skyline, especially striking when seen from a boat on the Ganga.
Near the Kashi Vishwanath Corridor, I wandered through the bylanes of Assi Ghat at the southern end of the old city. It is almost a ritual for me to visit the home of Goswami Tulsidas ji, his Akhada monastery and Lolark Kund. In earlier years, I would ask around for directions, sometimes navigating from the city side and sometimes from the ghats. Getting lost in the lanes of Kashi was part of the experience. This time, however, I encountered sandstone boards pointing to these landmarks. Similar markers now stand outside nearly all prominent temples and sites of interest. You can regard them as excellent guides, or as a lost opportunity to interact with the city and its people by asking the way.
As I write, a 2.5–mile-long cable car project called the Kashi Ropeway is underway to ease urban transit. It will connect the city’s main railway station with Godowliya Chowk, an area that is otherwise very congested. This will allow visitors to bypass the city and reach the ghats directly from the station. With about 150 ten-passenger gondolas, it will be the first ropeway in India built for public transportation and only the third of its kind worldwide. In addition, another corridor project is being planned around the Kaal Bhairava Temple.
Conclusion
Overall, I believe any project of this magnitude is bound to have two sides. Some of the criticism around the inauguration of the Kashi Vishwanath Corridor pointed to political gains for the ruling party. But that was short-lived, quickly forgotten after the elections. Large public projects inevitably reward those who initiate them, while upsetting those who missed the chance to shape long-lasting changes.
Ancient cities tend to contain eternity within them through the lived experiences of generations who reside there or visit as pilgrims. There are rare points in their timeline that see significant changes that alter their geography and leave an irreversible impact. The building of this corridor is one such moment, coming 239 years after Kashi Vishwanath Temple was last rebuilt, and once again bringing a fresh focus to the city.
