Changing Cultural Landscapes: Manikarnika Ghat and How it is Kashi vs Varanasi

‘People come here to cremate their loved ones. They are sad people whom we are talking about. What kind of development do you think they seek during these moments?’ asks veteran journalist Ajay Rai of Varanasi, who is vocal about the culture and polity of one of the oldest continuously inhabited cities in the world and one of the most ancient cities in Asia.

Soon after the destruction of Dalmandi — popular for textiles and goods for centuries — in Varanasi, which left many shopkeepers and traders out of their old businesses and also forced several to migrate, another cultural hotspot of Kashi has brought the city back to the brink of a debate over redevelopment plans. This time, it is the famous Manikarnika Ghat, considered one of the most sacred cremation sites in India.

In the last few days, many videos and photos from the ghat have surfaced online, dividing both locals and citizens nationwide over the issue. The ghat is undergoing a major beautification and strengthening project, and in the past week, it became an epicentre of protests.

A city-based RJ, Raginee Singh, says, “When I first saw the pictures of Manikarnika Ghat circulating on the internet, I felt sad, and it broke me. But later, I discovered it was just part of the renovation. Nobody is demolishing the ghat.”

The division in views began after heavy machinery was deployed to clear encroachments and old structures at Manikarnika Ghat as part of the redevelopment drive. Some locals also alleged that the process destroyed some ancient idols and artefacts found at the site. There were also claims that statues and idols, including one linked to Ahilyadevi Holkar, were damaged or demolished.

📍 Manikarnika Ghat, Varanasi.

One of Hinduism’s most sacred sites, revered for centuries and deeply associated with the legacy of Ahilyadevi Holkar, is witnessing the destruction of ancient idols and temples in the name of development.

After the large-scale demolition carried… pic.twitter.com/XMvo0EtN0P

— Dr Syed Naseer Hussain, M P (@NasirHussainINC) January 15, 2026

Members of the Ahilyabai Holkar family and the Pal community also raised objections, highlighting how traditions were affected. While the state government refuted the claims, locals, along with social activists, believe that the destruction can be seen at the ghats. Reportedly, Varanasi District Magistrate Satyendra Kumar clarified that only one madhi (platform) was removed during construction, while also acknowledging that some idols placed on the structure fell during the work but were not damaged.

The age-old culture at the Manikarnika Ghat

“The idols and the smaller temples will likely be broken if one understands the infrastructure, history, and culture of these ghats,” says Rai, adding that each ghat in Varanasi is dotted with various idols on its platforms. “These were placed so that people not only worship but also do not litter around the ghats. So, it cannot be difficult to acknowledge that any construction or destruction activity at the ghats will damage the smaller idols around.”

Located between the renowned Dashashwamedh Ghat and Scindia Ghat, Manikarnika Ghat was a teerth (pilgrimage site) and later evolved into a sacred ground for cremations. The ghat has also been a source of livelihood for hundreds of families, where communities — from Dom priests, wood vendors, and flower sellers to others assisting with the rituals — form an economy in itself.

Lenin Raghuvanshi, founder and convener of the People’s Vigilance Committee on Human Rights (PVCHR), who has worked with the communities around the ghats, therefore sees this not as a matter of development but as a “transformation of a living sacred space”. “Manikarnika Ghat is not only a cremation ground; it is a social, spiritual, and cultural commons where death, dignity, labour, faith, and everyday life have coexisted for centuries,” he says, adding that the current interventions risk disturbing this fragile balance.

“What concerns many of us is the gradual shift from lived spirituality to a managed spectacle. When sacred spaces are redesigned primarily for visibility, tourism, and control, the people who sustain them — Dom communities, ritual workers, priests, widows, sanitation workers, boatmen, and nearby residents — are often pushed to the margins, both physically and symbolically,” he further says.

In the recent past, locals were directed not to take dead bodies through the galis leading to Manikarnika Ghat and instead to take them to Namo Ghat and then to Manikarnika Ghat by boat, which created widespread opposition among locals, Rai notes, recalling the recent clash over the ghat’s culture. “The direction was taken back.”

The Manikarnika Tirtha redevelopment project aims to modernise and expand cremation facilities, with the initial phase covering around 3,000 square metres and an expansion to a 39,350-square-metre platform.

Proposed by Vishwanath Chaudhary, the Dom Raja of Manikarnika, it follows the Kashi Corridor project. While the project is funded by the Shri Kashi Vishwanath Temple Trust, it is being implemented by the Roop Foundation.

However, activists like Raghuvanshi fail to see the need for the beautification of the ghat. “Manikarnika has always stood apart precisely because it resisted sanitisation. Its meaning lies in its raw honesty, in the equality it affirms in death, and in its refusal to conform to aesthetic or commercial expectations. To remake it as a curated or beautified space risks hollowing out its deepest ethical and spiritual significance,” he says.

How 'development' has been a problem in Varanasi?

However, even before the recent rift between people and citizens online, Varanasi’s development has been questioned time and again. Highlighting how old structures were converted into hotels and lodges, Rai says, “There used to be a Mehta hospital (referring to Shree Vallabh Ram Shaligram Mehta Hospital) near Ramghat. It is being converted into a Taj hotel. They have kept only some old designs of the historical hospital alive as features.”

Additionally, many old structures around the ghats have been converted into luxury hotels. Guleria Kothi, once an 18th-century residence of the Peshwas near Dashashwamedh Ghat, was restored as a boutique hotel in 2012. Talking to Local Samosa, Rai recounts an old structure at Maharaja Darbhanga Ghat and says, “Even when Kashi did not have electricity, it had a manual lift owing to the contributions of the wealthy Maharaja of Darbhanga.”

Similarly, a more than two-century-old Nana Fadnavis haveli, which does not even find mention in many records online, was recently sold and converted into a hotel, Rai highlights.

“At the heart of this issue is the question of dignity. Development that displaces communities, silences traditional custodians, or turns mourning and ritual into a managed visual experience cannot be considered humane or sustainable. The question is not whether change is necessary, but who defines it, and whose lives and voices are deemed expendable in the process,” says Raghuvanshi, whose co-authored book on Kashi, bearing the same name, is due to be released soon.

Even though the conversion of century-old havelis and structures is not new, it has been rampant in the past decade, Ajay Rai observes. “Bahut kuch badal gaya hai. Aise toh yahan ki pehchaan mit jaayegi (A lot has changed. The identity of Kashi will be lost like this),” he comments.

The recent Kashi Corridor project was also a point of contention among some locals for a long time. “From Chowk to the ghats, some five to seven mohallas and several galis are now closed to commuting, and residents have to struggle to travel in and out of these areas,” Rai says.

Adding to that, the culture expert also informs that an old Goenka library on Lalita Ghat also went for the corridor. "There were a lot of ancient books and texts in that library. It does not exist now."

Young Turks vs. Old Guards

RJ Singh, however, presents a different view on tourism and says, “The destruction of old statues and remarkable heritage could be a topic of debate. But that’s exactly what happened when the Kashi Vishwanath Corridor was under construction. People of Kashi were unhappy. But today, no one remembers that. All that matters is that the public has better facilities, broader ways, and more footfall, which helps employment and tourism opportunities in Kashi.”

Singh and other youngsters can easily be seen praising the developmental plans, eyeing growth in their own city. “I feel this is not destructive; it’s progressive. And progression sometimes makes you uncomfortable until it’s visible,” Singh further says.

However, it is the elderly, like Rai, who have been critical of the ways of development. “No one is against the development of our people. But why not a hospital in return for a hospital, rather than hotels and luxury structures in place of old hospitals and heritage sites?” he asks.

Locals like Rai believe that tourist footfall has declined in the city as well. “Not only has international tourism declined, but the popular Dev Deepavali, which would put the entire hospitality sector on edge, was partially vacant this time,” he says. “Rather,” he continues, “hotels were operating at full capacity in December recently, as many tourists from Delhi flocked to Varanasi due to air pollution.”

Once started by Ustad Bismillah Khan along with others, the Ganga Mahotsav and other events during Dev Deepavali have been sidelined and are no longer attracting sufficient tourism in the old city, and elderly locals and cultural experts believe that diminishing heritage could be the reason.

“Historically, Kashi has never been a city of silence or uniformity. Its strength has come from dialogue, dissent, and plural traditions — from Kabir and Ravidas to Sufi practices and radical spiritual lineages that questioned authority and hierarchy. What we are witnessing today appears to be a departure from that legacy, moving instead towards control, regulation, and erasure in the name of order and progress,” Lenin Raghuvanshi says.

Questioning why even the breaking of madhis on platforms such as those at Manikarnika Ghat was considered necessary, Ajay Rai fondly recounts how he has seen popular poets like Gyanendrapati sit on such madhis at night. “Those were the old times,” he says.