Just what does it take to build a temporary city for 660 million people?
By Pramil Dwivedi, Prayag
All Photos: Pramil Dwivedi
Months before the first pilgrim arrived at the Sangam, preparations for the 2025 Kumbh Mela were already underway. With a budget of us$750 million, the Uttar Pradesh government, along with municipal bodies and sanitation partners, undertook the enormous task of creating a functional, hygienic ecosystem capable of supporting over 660 million visitors across several weeks. Massive logistical efforts unfolded to uphold the sanctity of the land and the purity of the river. The sanitation initiative in particular stood as a testament to modern India’s capacity to blend devotion with discipline.
Infrastructure by the Numbers
The temporary city (really a giant campground) covered 23 square miles, divided into 25 administrative sectors. Dredging along the river reclaimed 64 acres of land, tripling the ghat bathing capacity compared to 2019. In addition to the existing 280 miles of roads within the site, 250 miles of temporary roads were created. Over a quarter million checkered steel plates, each weighing up to 440 pounds, were laid down in critical sections. Thirty pontoon bridges crossed the Ganga to the far side of the Mela grounds. Between 150,000 and 200,000 tents or other temporary structures were installed for pilgrims, including some high quality—and expensive—accommodations.
Water supply lines and drainage systems were laid beneath the temporary roads, with more than 800 miles of pipelines working in tandem with a responsive sewage management plan. Biotoilets and mobile waste-processing units were introduced to mitigate environmental impact and handle the enormous daily output of human waste.
More than 150,000 toilets and urinals were installed, creating the largest temporary sanitation system ever seen at a human gathering. This infrastructure was strategically placed across zones to ensure accessibility and to maintain a pollution-free environment.
The state deployed a workforce of some 15,000 sanitation workers, most of whom were stationed in shifts around key bathing days. Each worker was trained not just in cleaning, but in maintaining dignity and respect for the sacred purpose of the Mela.
This effort was supported by a comprehensive monitoring system involving on-ground supervisors and digital dashboards that tracked cleanliness status in real time. Regular chemical treatments and mechanical suction ensured toilets remained pleasant and usable throughout the event.
The Mela set a Guinness world record for largest synchronized cleanliness drive as 15,000 sanitation workers assembled in a coordinated effort to clean across all sectors of the Mela grounds. Throughout the Mela, cleanliness drives were carried out in rounds, sometimes multiple times a day. Waste segregation points were established, and waste was transferred to a central facility in Baswar capable of processing over 1,000 tons per day. Recyclable and biodegradable materials were separated on site to reduce landfill burden.
Beyond physical cleanliness, an awareness campaign promoted hand hygiene and responsible garbage disposal among pilgrims. This was done through street plays, public announcements and engagement volunteers. The emphasis was not only on infrastructure but also on behavioral change, contributing to the long-term goal of the Clean India Mission launched in 2014.
Feeding the Faithful
At the heart of Kumbh—amid sacred chants, ritual baths, and divine gatherings—lay another miracle: the seamless and expansive system that fed millions of pilgrims every day, ensuring that every visitor to the Mela had access to nourishing food.
One of the key beneficiaries of the government’s food security initiative was the Kalpwasis—those who observed a month-long vow of renunciation and spiritual discipline while living on the riverbanks. To support their basic sustenance needs, the state issued ration cards for the month providing a total of 18 kilos of wheat flour, 12 of rice, six of sugar and six gas cylinders. Likewise, the many Akhara orders received subsidized raw food grains according to the number of sadhus and followers in each.
The government established five major food storage depots. From these, supplies were dispatched to 138 distribution centers strategically located across all sectors, enabling pilgrims to access their allotted rations without long travel or crowding. This system not only prevented shortages and confusion but also created a sense of order in an otherwise dynamic and fluid space.
While government efforts laid the foundation, the spiritual heart of food service at Kumbh beat strongest through nonprofit organizations and religious institutions who provided free meals to hundreds of thousands of pilgrims every day.
One example was Shri Gangdev Ji Viraksht Mandali, affiliated with Hari Om Ashram in Badavaha, Madhya Pradesh. Over the six-week course of the Mela, this group served free meals daily to more than 66,000 people at a total cost of us$750,000.
This coordinated food system—combining administrative strength with spiritual generosity—embodied the true essence of dharma. In every ration card issued, in every plate served, and in every act of kindness shared across the dusty roads of Prayagraj, the spirit of the Kumbh echoed—pure, generous and unshakably human.
Dismantling with Precision
As the last conch faded across the Sangam and the final dip rippled through its holy waters, Kumbh Mela 2025—sprawling, sacred, and staggering in scale—came to a close on February 26th. But for the authorities and workers on the ground, a different journey had just begun: the dismantling of the world’s largest temporary city covering 23 square miles and including 530 miles of road, with up to 60 thousand tons of steel plates, 150,000 toilets, 800 miles of underground water pipes and 930 miles of electrical cable. The coming summer heat and approaching monsoon required swift action.
More than 2,500 administrative and camp structures, including hospitals, police stations, akhara compounds, community kitchens and pilgrim shelters, had to be dismantled. Over 20,000 workers, engineers and sanitation staff were mobilized for the dismantling operation. Working in coordinated shifts, they carefully rolled back every layer of the Mela’s infrastructure. Materials were categorized—steel plates, bamboo, plastic, canvas and wiring—and dispatched for either reuse, storage or recycling.
One of the first priorities was restoring water flow—removing temporary bunds and bridges over smaller streams, reopening blocked channels and stabilizing embankments used during the event.
More than a thousand tons of residual waste was processed at the Baswar Plant. Teams conducted soil testing and chemical treatment in high-use areas such as kitchen zones, bathing ghats and toilets to ensure no long-term contamination.
Water quality was checked at multiple locations along the Ganga and Yamuna to confirm that the Mela had not left behind ecological damage. Officials confirmed the reestablishment of pre-Kumbh environmental parameters by late March, 2025.
Perhaps the most remarkable aspect of the dismantling effort was its speed and scale. Within 30 days, nearly 90% of the temporary city had been cleared. Within 45 days, the area had returned to its natural state—with the riverbank cleaned, leveled and restored.
Recyclable materials were stored in government depots for future events. Structures built for medical camps, schools and kitchens were packed up and sent for local rural outreach programs. By early April, the sprawling city of faith had quietly folded back into the land, leaving behind only footprints, memories and stories.
The sanitation operation at Kumbh Mela 2025 marks a watershed moment in how large-scale religious gatherings can be organized in harmony with public health priorities while maintaining the dignity of both pilgrims and the land that received them.
The Kumbh’s Temporary School with a Lasting Impact
As millions of pilgrims descended upon Prayagraj for Kumbh Mela 2025—drawn by faith, ritual and the call of the Sangam—an unlikely sanctuary of learning quietly took root amid the chaos. From the background of chanting, processions and sacred dips, a school emerged. Not permanent, but deeply purposeful.
Vidya Kumbh was set up within the heart of the Mela grounds, offering structured education to the children of migrant laborers, sanitation workers, vendors and other families who relocated to Prayagraj for the duration of the festival.
At its peak, 270 children were enrolled. Each morning, they arrived in clean uniforms provided by the state government—an act that instilled pride and routine in young hearts often unaccustomed to stability. The school, housed in orderly tents, featured blackboards, desks, stationery and a small playground.
Children learned Hindi, English and mathematics. They practiced handwriting, read aloud in groups and played outdoor games under the winter sun. Values-based lessons developed character alongside intellect. For many, this was their first encounter with formal education. For others, it was a return to a world they had been forced to leave behind.
Children learned how to use computers, type in both Hindi and English and understand the ethics of connecting to a wider world they had never imagined themselves part of.
Behind this endeavor stood a small team: six teachers and the headmaster, Shri Dilip Kumar Mishra. “We don’t just teach,” he remarked. “We try to give them rhythm, structure and hope—things they can carry long after the tents are gone.”
Each school day began with a morning assembly, prayers and songs, followed by lessons, interactive sessions and lunch breaks where the children ate together.
The school was designed not just as a place of instruction but as a sanctuary of care. Many of the children lived in uncertain conditions during the Mela, with families preoccupied with daily work. Vidya Kumbh offered them a safe space, where their names were called with respect, their questions were answered with patience and their dreams were taken seriously.
The initiative was made possible through the coordination of local education departments, child welfare groups and volunteers. Though temporary by design, the spirit of Vidya Kumbh has been anything but fleeting. It serves as a living example of how large-scale religious events can—and should—accommodate human development alongside spiritual pursuit.
When the Mela concluded, and the city of tents began to dissolve, Vidya Kumbh, too, packed up. But what remained was a lasting impression on 270 young minds—and a model that could inspire similar efforts in future Melas and beyond.
How to Feed 660 Million People
Sacred Meets AI: The Digital Mahakumbh Experience
Faith and tradition surged through every path, every dip, every chant at the Kumbh. But in the heart of Sector 1, a new kind of spiritual encounter quietly unfolded—one powered not by ritual alone, but by pixels, projections and immersive storytelling.
The Digital Mahakumbh Experience Center stood as a first-of-its-kind initiative, blending ancient wisdom with cutting-edge technology. More than just a tech pavilion, it offered pilgrims a journey through history, dharma and devotion—without stepping into the river.
Months before the first conch blew at the Sangam, planning was underway to create a space where the legacy of Kumbh could be told through technology. The result was a massive, climate-controlled exhibition structure—surrounded by the dust and devotion of the Mela, yet unlike anything it had seen before.
Inside, the center was equipped with 360-degree LED screens, virtual reality headsets, interactive walls and multi-sensory audio-visual experiences. Content creators, coders, historians and technicians worked alongside religious scholars to ensure the digital narrative was both accurate and awe-inspiring.
The construction itself was a feat. While most structures at the Kumbh were temporary tents or bamboo frameworks, the Digital Mahakumbh Center was built to house thousands per day in a smooth, air-cooled, high-tech environment—complete with power backups, crowd control gates, and guided visitor flow. It was modern India meeting timeless Bharat.
Stepping into the center felt like crossing into another world. The experience began with a 3D film on the origins of Kumbh (above), tracing the scriptural Samudra Manthan and the celestial descent of the nectar of immortality. As the visuals enveloped the room, visitors watched Gods, demons and sages move around them—transported into the very heart of the legend.
Next came interactive exhibits featuring the history of the four Kumbh sites—Prayagraj, Haridwar, Ujjain and Nashik. Touchscreens allowed pilgrims to explore key historical moments, saints’ teachings, maps of ancient rivers and even astrological timelines tied to the Kumbh cycle.
For many, the highlight was the Virtual Shahi Snan experience—a VR booth where one could simulate the ritual bath, complete with chants, flowing waters and a guided spiritual narrative. Elderly pilgrims who couldn’t make it to the crowded ghats were visibly moved, some with tears in their eyes, after the experience.
Another section used augmented reality mirrors, where visitors could “meet” and pose with revered saints and sages, and receive personalized blessings in the form of recorded mantras based on their input. It was both playful and profound.
What made the Digital Mahakumbh stand out wasn’t just its gadgets, but its intent. Everything was rooted in service: helping people understand the spiritual significance of the Kumbh, preserving its legacy in digital form, and offering access to those unable to physically participate.
For first-time pilgrims, it was a gentle and informative introduction. For seasoned devotees, it was a reminder of the deep mythos behind their lifelong faith. For children and young adults, it was a bridge between belief and the world they inhabit every day.
The center also ran educational screenings, talks by dharma scholars and interactive quizzes for school groups and yatris alike.
The Digital Mahakumbh Experience Center was not merely a novelty—it was a vision of how India can carry its ancient traditions into the future. It showed that technology, when used with reverence and purpose, can deepen rather than distract from spiritual experience.
How the “Eye Kumbh” Brought Clear Vision to Thousands
While millions gathered at Kumbh Mela 2025 for spiritual cleansing in the sacred waters of the Sangam, a quieter, yet equally transformative current flowed through the temporary city. Netra (“eye”) Kumbh 2025, situated within Sector 6 of the Mela grounds, was a dedicated eye-care camp offering thousands of pilgrims a chance to experience something truly life-changing: clear vision. From this single, expansive setup, over 500 healthcare professionals, including ophthalmologists, optometrists and trained volunteers, worked tirelessly each day.
The camp offered comprehensive eye checkups, regardless of the pilgrim’s age, background or socio-economic status. A hallmark of the initiative was its paperless, barcode-based registration system, which minimized waiting times and ensured orderly processing even amid the high footfall of the Mela. By the end of the Mela, Netra Kumbh had distributed 162,945 pairs of spectacles, all free of cost. Each pair was tailored to the recipient’s prescription, representing not just medical support, but dignity and care. The estimated cost per pair—us$15—was fully supported by 22 organizations, most prominently India’s National Medicos Organization.
These spectacles often marked the first experience of clear vision for many recipients. Pilgrims who had spent years struggling to read, walk safely or see their loved ones clearly found themselves suddenly empowered, independent and filled with renewed joy.
Netra Kumbh became a sanctuary for healing, reminding the world that service is as sacred as prayer. Here, seva was not metaphorical—it was measurable, tangible and life-changing. The volunteers didn’t seek attention, and the doctors didn’t work for recognition. Theirs was the dharma of healing—quiet, steady, and inspired by something greater than reward.
My Life’s Three Kumbhs
Every time the Kumbh Mela returns to Prayagraj, something in me returns, too
By Pramil Dwivedi
I have lived in prayag all my life. I have walked the same roads that become the veins of the world’s largest spiritual gathering every few years. I’ve crossed the bridges, heard the temple bells, and watched the Yamuna meet the Ganga beneath pink and gold skies. But in the years when the Kumbh occurs, the city becomes something else entirely—something breathing, ancient and sacred in ways that are hard to explain unless you’ve felt it from the inside.
I’ve witnessed three Kumbhs within conscious memory—2013, 2019 and 2025. Each one changed me. Each one met me at a different stage of life. But the one that lives closest to my heart is my very first: 2013. I was a boy, holding my father’s hand. He was working with the Civil Defence organization as a three-star officer that year, and because of his duty, our family had a pass to witness the procession of an Akhara heading toward the Sangam for their sacred bath. I didn’t know the name of the Akhara. I didn’t even understand what the procession meant. But I remember the drums. I remember the dust. I remember the saffron. I remember the energy—something between thunder and stillness—that flowed through the ground and up into my body.
It was the first time I saw sadhus covered in ash, walking like kings yet carrying nothing. There were elephants. Horses. Conches. Flags waving like fire. The crowd moved and chanted as one. And I—small, wide-eyed—stood there in awe, my hand wrapped tightly in my father’s, my mother behind me, all of us lost in the spectacle.
Even now, I can close my eyes and see it exactly: the light falling through the smoke, the chants bouncing off the tent walls, the sense that something far older than me was unfolding before me. That was the moment the Kumbh entered my life.
By 2019, I was older—curious, observant, beginning to understand the spiritual and cultural layers beneath what had earlier felt like just a giant fair. That year, I wandered more. I asked questions. I carried my camera with intent. I began to understand the meaning of Kalpwas, the significance of the Shahi Snans, the reason people walked barefoot for hundreds of kilometers to reach the Sangam. But it was still mostly from the outside looking in. It wasn’t until 2025 that Kumbh became personal in a new way—through work, through purpose, through exhaustion and grace.
This year, Kumbh 2025, I worked as a correspondent and photojournalist for Hinduism Today magazine. For 45 days, I lived the Mela—not as a visitor, not just as a resident, but as a witness and documentarian. I walked through ghats before sunrise. I met volunteers, workers, saints, pilgrims. I visited eye camps, digital museums, temporary schools and sanitation sites.
I slept little. I carried equipment in dust and wind. I lost about 16 pounds over the course of those weeks—not from effort alone, but from being absorbed completely by something larger than myself.
There were days I felt overwhelmed, nights when I felt something between silence and surrender settle over me. And yet, there was always something that kept me going.
Sometimes it was just a cup of chai handed to me by a sadhu I had just photographed. Sometimes it was the unexpected kindness of a stranger who offered food. And there was so much food. Wherever I went, there were people feeding others—not just langars and akharas, but everyday pilgrims, setting up small stalls to give out puris, khichdi, bananas, water. No one ever needed to ask. Hunger was not something you felt at the Kumbh.
If I look back at my photography journey, I realize that Ganga ji was my very first muse, and perhaps my most constant guide. Before I ever held a press pass or shot stories for publications, I would quietly walk the ghats and riverbanks of Prayagraj with my camera—sometimes in the golden haze of evening, sometimes in the solitude of morning fog. I didn’t have formal training, but I had light, water, faith and time. I photographed boats, birds, ripples, saints, people praying, floating flowers, abandoned slippers—whatever Ganga ji showed me, I clicked. Slowly, silently, I learned how to see.
Over the years, I’ve built a personal collection of over a thousand photographs of Ganga ji—each one carrying a different season, a different emotion, a different story. In many ways, photographing Her taught me patience, stillness, and timing. She taught me to observe before clicking. She taught me that beauty doesn’t always shout—it flows. So when I walked into the Kumbh Mela with a press badge in 2025, I wasn’t stepping into something unfamiliar. I was walking into the extended home of my first teacher.
There’s something strange about watching the city you’ve always known be transformed by the rest of the world. For a few weeks, Prayagraj doesn’t feel like it belongs to us. It becomes everyone’s home. Our streets, our signs, our bus stands—everything becomes part of a massive, sacred stage.
And yet, when you’re from here, you also understand the flow in a different way. You know the shortcuts. You know the quiet ghats. You know how the fog will roll in before sunrise, how the light touches the river just before the Shahi Snan. Locals live the Kumbh like a host watching guests fall in love with something they’ve always cherished. We help. We guide. We also quietly observe. This year’s Kumbh didn’t just give me photographs. It gave me silence. It gave me stories I hadn’t earned but was allowed to tell. It gave me a deeper connection to my city, my people and something much older than either.
As someone from Prayagraj, I am proud of what we built—and even more proud of how we let it go with grace. There’s a lesson there: that the most sacred things are not the ones that last forever, but the ones that return, again and again, asking you to look deeper. The Kumbh Mela will return in 2037. I don’t know where I’ll be then, or who I’ll have become. But I do know this: when the rivers call, I will answer. Because once Kumbh touches your life, you are never quite the same.
About The Author
Pramil Dwivedi is a Delhi-based, award-winning photographer known for blending street aesthetics with human stories. His work has been featured in prestigious platforms like NatGeo, Canon, LensCulture, and in the government-released book Rowing Down the Ganges, unveiled by Prime Minister Narendra Modi