By Kumkum Chadha
It was a festival that had a clear divide: VIPs versus commoners. It was as if the whole world had converged to participate in the 45-day festival in Uttar Pradesh’s Prayagraj city. The Maha Kumbh which is held every 12 years, is one of the largest religious gatherings in the world. This year, it started on January 13 and concluded on February 26.
The man steering it was Uttar Pradesh Chief Minister Yogi Adityanath who did what it took to make it a mega-event: “spectacular and dazzling” to quote those who were “mesmerized” at the scale and grandeur of the event.
The Hindu belief is that a dip in the Sangam will absolve one of sins. The Sangam is the confluence of three rivers: the most sacred being the Ganges, the Yamuna and the mythical Saraswati. About the recently concluded Mahakumbh, there are two opinions: One that the Kumbh Mela was a success; and the other that it was a nightmare.
Those who were escorted by armed men and official vehicles were ecstatic: “Yogi has done a great job” they said as they enjoyed a multi-course meal in the VIP tents that had been set up by the state government. But those who had to tread several kilometres on foot had second thoughts on whether they should have come at all.
On one side were rich industrialists, popular film stars and influential politicians; on the other commoners who had roughed it out either on a bus or had jostled for space in an overcrowded train. Clearly, it was an extravaganza for the rich. Areas were designated for the elite, and politicians and celebrities received special privileges. Their convoy created excessive blockades, making it difficult for pedestrians to navigate their way. Apart from large areas being cordoned off for VIPs, there were designated ghats for them to take a dip. Their cars drove right up to the ghat where private speed boats were waiting to take them to the middle of the stream for the holy dip.
The luxurious tents set up by private players are something to write home about: handmade cloth roof, wooden floors and the works. The Dome city for instance had over 150 fully equipped cottages dubbed as “one-of-a-kind luxury experience amidst the divine confluence”. Built with high-tech polycarbonate sheets, these structures are fire proof. Pitch this against the poor whose tents caught fire either due to short circuit or gas cylinder explosions.
For record, in the first week of February, fire broke out in two separate areas gutting the tents. Dozen fire tenders were pressed into service. In January too, 100 tents were gutted. Fire tenders apart, it took fire-fighting motorcycles and over two hours to bring the flames under control.
The plight of the poor does not end here. Apart from the trudge, sometimes even 30-35 kilometres for the sacred dip, there was dearth of accommodation. Many used boards and foil paper to shield themselves from the cold. Night temperatures in the city of Prayagraj had dropped significantly.
There were long queues for food and drinking water. Quite unlike the satvik breakfast in a luxury tent laid out for the rich, multicourse meals, and of course, a glass of lemonade while watching the sunset.
When roads were closed for VIP convoys, there were immense traffic jams and delays for ordinary people. Add to this, the poor demarcation of pathways and a botched-up crowd management and the chaotic picture is complete.
Take the so-called “mobility plan”, a few days before January 28 when a stampede broke out at Sangam Ghat. The state administration had, reportedly, blocked as many as 28 pontoon bridges for VIP movement. This meant pushing hundreds and thousands of pilgrims into narrow roads. The bottleneck was keeping only one bridge open till noon for the unprecedented number of devotees waiting to take the holy dip.
That evening loudspeakers blared that Mauni Amavasya, an auspicious date, had begun and therefore devotees should start moving towards the river. Many did, but were overpowered by surging crowds which multiplied by the minute. Panic set in and religious chants were replaced by screams. Some climbed poles, others crushed those who had secured themselves a vantage point near the Ghat. On record, 30 people are said to have died in the stampede. But the figures are estimated to be much higher: around 70 according to unofficial sources.
Therefore, when Opposition MP Jaya Bachchan said that the Kumbh water was “contaminated”, she was alleging that bodies of those who had died in the stampede were thrown in the river. Bachchan’s rant, though politically motivated, has some basis vis-a-vis the contaminated water. A report submitted by the Central Pollution Control Board had found very high coliform levels in the waters of the Ganges. Coliform levels are a key indicator of the presence of untreated sewage and faecal bacteria in water. The report stated that the coliform levels were 1,400 times more than the acceptable limits.
While rejecting the report, Uttar Pradesh Chief Minister Yogi Adityanath reiterated that waters were “pure and clean”. But the takeaway was his admitting that “sewage leakage and animal waste” could lead to increased levels of coliform. Whatever Yogi may wish the world to believe, the fact remains that presence of faecal coliform bacteria can cause severe health problems, including skin and eye infections, respiratory problems and even post infectious autoimmune diseases which could, in some cases, lead to paralysis.
Doctors and dermatologists in Ranchi, for instance, have reported a surge in skin infections from pilgrims who have returned from Kumbh, particularly fungal issues, itching, red patches and body rash.
It is therefore not without reason that many among the affluent came back to their tents and had a hot, rather sanitized, bath after the “holy dip”. In their perception religion and hygiene are two different things. Had it not been for the VIP treatment that was either paid for or wangled through the state government, many would have chosen to stay away from the Maha Kumbh. In fact, it is this section that has suddenly woken up to the sanctity of the Kumbh Mela. Whether they were wooed by the state government to make the Kumbh a talking point is anybody’s guess.
That the state government was hell bent on grabbing eyeballs is evident from branded booths, large scale advertising, influencer collaborations and of course the social media. While on media, pro-government, rather subservient channels, did what the state government PR machinery should have done: damage control. For every negative report be it deaths, crowd mismanagement or reports of contaminated water, there was a barrage of positive reports on what a wonderful job Yogi had done.
Having said that one should not undermine the mammoth effort in organizing an event of this scale and magnitude. A lot of effort did go into it and the economy did get a boost. Yogi has on the floor of the state assembly spoken about a boatman Pintu Mahara making a killing by earning 30 crores in 45 days. Of course, against one Pintu there are scores of boatmen who were rendered jobless after speedboats took over.
This is not a story about the success and failure of the Maha Kumbh; nor is it an assessment of Yogi’s managerial skills; or whether he has mastered the art of event management. It is more about the changing face of religion in this country. It is about how to successfully market spiritualism; how to give it that extra edge to woo the affluent and the elite; it is actually about hijacking the event from devotees who battle hardship to get there; it is about prioritizing VIPs and push-in the one-offs; it is about taking selfies; it is about an airline ticket costing half a lakh of rupees; it is about a luxury tent priced at one lakh per night; it is about that lemonade and the sunset that drowned the wailing of those who mourned for their dead.
Tragically, it is about the apathy of self-styled godmen like Dhirendra Shastri who say that “those who lost their lives in the stampede haven’t died, but have attained moksha”, or salvation. Or about a state minister calling the deaths a “small event in large gatherings”.
It is about Yogi’s Kumbh versus an erstwhile chief minister who had not only banned VIP movement during the Kumbh, but also directed his cabinet to walk to the Sangam. It was in the eighties that ND Tewari, then chief minister, had taken this call.
But most important, this Kumbh is about the BJP and its Hindutva push.
—The writer is an author, journalist and political commentator