*Vyomesh Chitravansh
Our city of Banaras—a city older than time itself. Existing beyond history, moving continuously with the wheel of time. They say Kashi is indestructible; a city whose history has neither a beginning nor an end. "Who truly belongs to Kashi?" is but a fleeting, mortal question. People kept coming, settling down into its fragrant soil, adopting its vibrant, carefree lifestyle (Fakkadpan), and eventually becoming Banarasis. How this process of shedding one's exclusivity to become ordinary—transitioning from a mere urban dweller to a true Banarasi—silently integrates into one’s heart, body, and life to turn an outsider into a local is something even the transformed individual doesn't realize. It is much like how King Bhagiratha, while leading Mother Ganga down from the northern Himalayas, reached Banaras and pointed her toward the path from south to north without even realizing the shift. In Banaras, the Ganga became northward-flowing (Uttar-Vahini). This northward turn so captivated her that she took the entire city into her lap, enveloping it in her embrace, blending into its colors so deeply that imagining Banaras without the Ganga, or the Ganga without Banaras, became entirely meaningless.
According to a local Banarasi lore, when Lord Shiva (Ashutosh) was scouting the world for a place to build his home, he fell in love with this city that had turned Mother Ganga northward. And why wouldn't he? An eccentric wanderer (Adbhangi) himself, he drove his trident into this very earth, packed up his household, and became a Banarasi for good. The history that followed shows that all the other gods, deities, protectors (Veers), yoginis, spirits (Brahms), Bhairavas, energies (Shaktis), and Kapalinis followed his footsteps and settled here. Simply put, there is no divine energy or living creature in this creation that does not reside in Banaras. If locals are to be believed, the city houses more temples, idols, and deities than human beings—reigning over every home, alley, corner, and intersection, all the way to roads, railway lines, hospitals, and schools. Later, great souls like Tulsidas, Kabir, and Keenaram became permanent fixtures of this soil. Ghalib had to leave Banaras with a heavy heart, while Umrao Jaan Ada found her paradise right here. In subsequent centuries, the Mughals and the British arrived, and whatever little space was left, they built houses of prayer in memory of their deities, saints (Peers), and the Almighty. Whatever room remained between temples, mosques, gurdwaras, and churches was occupied by monasteries, Montessoris, and shrines (Dargahs). And whatever was left after all that, people built houses on it.
With such cramped spaces, there was barely any room to breathe. Yet, when houses were built, the Banarasi constructed them entirely according to their personal whim and comfort. In this customized setup, a regular Banarasi couldn't care less about blueprints, setback rules, feedback loops, or architectural alignments. They were content simply erecting a structure in the labyrinth of alleys and neighborhoods; it bothered neither the common Banarasi nor their gods and protectors. It didn't bother the stray bulls that wandered in uninvited, nor the monkeys resting on the rooftops.
The trouble began only when the Development Authority attempted to map the entire city onto its formal grids. Has a Banarasi ever listened to anyone, let alone tolerate the systematic blueprints of a Development Authority? Naturally, things began to sour right there. The Development Authority would insist, "Do not build a house like this, build it like that," to which the stubborn Banarasi would retort, "My friend, we will build it exactly as we please, to hell with you." Consequently, the Varanasi Development Authority carved out a middle path: You take care of us, and we will completely stop caring about what you do. This philosophy is faithfully practiced by both sides to this day. A Banarasi begins constructing a house; the Development Authority officials arrive and halt the work, claiming the construction is illegal and instructing them to meet at Pannalal Park the next morning. The following day, the Banarasi meets the designated clerk or officer at Pannalal Park, offers a cash tribute (Naqat Narayan) to "take care" of them, and walks away free. After that, build a house or dig a well—the Development Authority will never show up to bother you. Through this harmonious system of compromise, no one even realized when Banaras transformed from the 'Forest of Bliss' (Anandakanan), a bastion of religion, spirituality, wisdom, and education, into a concrete jungle—and how the Varanasi Development Authority effectively turned into the Varanasi Destruction Authority. A similar story unfolded with the Municipal Corporation, but that is a tale for another day.
Thus, sir, the entirety of Banaras came to be categorized as an unplanned, chaotic city. Yet, the common Banarasi had no complaints against anyone. After wrapping up a day's work, shopkeeping, or priestly duties (Jajmani), they were perfectly content gathering around the neighborhood betel-leaf (Paan) shop, setting up an open-air forum (Adee), and sharing philosophical wisdom with their circle. The generation born after '75 was also gradually getting habituated to fiddling with the TV remote while lounging on drawing-room sofas or lying in bed.
The real shift began with the 2014 Lok Sabha elections. Following the path once walked by Shiva, Tulsidas, Ratnakar, and the Ganga, the then-Chief Minister of Gujarat, Narendra Modi, journeyed all the way from Ahmedabad and decided to contest the parliamentary elections from Banaras. When Modi arrived, Banaras welcomed him with open arms; it felt as though the entire city had poured onto the streets during his nomination to shower him with blessings, making him the Member of Parliament for Varanasi. Before taking office as Prime Minister, when he arrived to pay his respects at the court of Baba Vishwanath, he observed that Banaras was trapped in a massive web of unplanned development—stretching from chaotic overhead electrical poles to sewage overflowing onto the streets, and from filth in the Ganga to the common man constantly wrestling with bureaucratic inefficiency. Before anyone else could claim credit for bringing him to Banaras, he put an end to the competitive chest-thumping of prominent leaders by declaring: "Neither have I been brought here, nor has anyone sent me. No one has called me—it is Mother Ganga who has summoned me."
Things would have still been fine if it had just stopped there, but while speaking about changing Banaras, PM Modi went a step further and remarked that he knew it was incredibly difficult to get work done through the people of Banaras. Well, sir, people heard it, and the matter subsided. But things truly crossed all expectations when, even after becoming the Prime Minister, Modi began visiting Banaras every third or fourth month. Now, along with the local bureaucracy, the common public was left scratching their heads: what kind of Prime Minister is he, who despite holding the highest office in the country, keeps touring his constituency every few months? Yet, Modi kept coming. And slowly, the shift in Banaras began to show. A city that had once lain somewhat neglected embarked on a path of visible transformation. By opening up the vaults of financial and economic resources that had long been a bottleneck for his constituency's progress, the Prime Minister has managed to spark global conversations around the Varanasi development model today.
The day-to-day life of local residents is becoming significantly smoother than before. Thanks to the complete rejuvenation of the Kashi Vishwanath Temple and the massive expansion of urban amenities, the influx of tourists into Kashi has seen an exponential rise. In the early years of the 21st century, it would easily take at least 25 to 30 minutes to travel from the Varanasi Railway Station to the Rath Yatra-Mahmoorganj intersection via Kashi Vidyapith and Sigra. The distance was merely around 4 kilometers, but the traffic jams were so brutal they would make you break into a sweat—and you'd just be left wiping it off. If you had to head toward BHU (Banaras Hindu University), a 45-minute commute was completely ordinary.
However, a vast amount of water has flown down the Ganga over the past few years. Tremendous changes have taken place not just on the outer fringes of Banaras, but right within its inner streets. Roads that had continuously grown narrower due to illegal encroachments have now been widened. Beyond the Outer Ring Road built to divert fast-moving trucks away from the city center, inner arteries like the Phulwariya Four-Lane, the BLW-Ravindrapuri-Bhelupur Four-Lane, and the Mohansarai-Cantt-Rajghat Four-Lane have fundamentally altered old realities. Anyone who saw Kashi in those bygone days would naturally find themselves astonished looking at the Kashi of today.
Back then, it was a landscape of broken, uneven roads. Electrical poles stood haphazardly along the streets, burdened with a chaotic web of dangling wires—stretching from electricity lines to telephone cables and network wires. They weren't just wires; they felt like a giant, suffocating trap. No matter which political party held power in Uttar Pradesh over the decades, no one ever genuinely thought about grooming the city of Baba Vishwanath. No one’s vision could ever rise above the calculations of their vote banks.
During one of his visits to Varanasi, PM Modi had pointedly alluded to this very past: “When the people of Kashi resolved for development in 2014, many thought that no change could ever be brought to Banaras. But the people of Kashi have proven them wrong and shown what is possible. Today, the entire nation stands mesmerized by the development of Kashi.”
Before Narendra Modi became the Prime Minister, 8 out of the 14 Prime Ministers of India hailed from Uttar Pradesh itself. However, Narendra Modi is the very first leader to come to UP from the outside, contest from Varanasi, and go on to become the Prime Minister of the country. When he reached Varanasi to file his nomination for the Lok Sabha elections, the statement he made became etched into the mind of every single child: “Neither has anyone sent me here, nor have I come on my own; it is Mother Ganga who has summoned me.”
Back then, Narendra Modi spoke about turning Kashi into Kyoto. One can only wonder how much faith or confidence the people of Kashi had in those words at that time, and how many might have gossiped or doubted it. Yet, the work executed in Kashi over the past years has begun converting that initial hope into firm belief—proving that the rejuvenation of Kashi is entirely possible, and to a great extent, PM (Prime Minister) Modi has successfully demonstrated it. Starting with the Kashi Vishwanath Dham Corridor, the government has developed not just the central city but also peripheral temples into prominent tourist destinations. Work is progressing steadily across numerous religious heritage sites, including Sarnath, Shool Tankeshwar, Markandeya Mahadeva, Kaal Bhairav, and the Panchkoshi circuit.
Since this parliamentary seat belongs to the Prime Minister of the country, the Chief Minister of the state, Yogi Adityanath, takes a deep personal interest. He visits Varanasi once every 21 days on average to continuously review ongoing development projects. Schemes worth thousands of crores of rupees have been sanctioned for Varanasi's growth. Some have been completed, work on others is underway, and a few are currently in the pipeline. As Chief Minister Yogi Adityanath often says, "Whenever the PM comes to Kashi, he always brings along gifts of development." We all know that Yogi Adityanath completed two consecutive terms in the political history of UP for the very first time. During these years, he has continuously greenlit development-oriented initiatives for Varanasi while rolling out numerous welfare benefits from the state government. These projects are intrinsically linked to core infrastructure, alongside education, medicine, tourism, and transit development.
These initiatives include a multi-commodity warehouse at Rajatalab; multi-level parking lots at Godowlia, Beniyabagh Town Hall, and Kacheri; a massive fleet of e-buses; an e-charging station and e-bus terminal at Mirzamurad; and the widening of the Banaras-Lucknow, Banaras-Azamgarh, and Banaras-Ghazipur routes into four-lane and six-lane expressways. Additionally, it encompasses the widening of the Ramnagar-Padao and Kacheri-Sarnath-Sandaha roads, the Ashapur flyover, and the overall beautification and development of Sarnath.
The list further extends to the expansion of the Lal Bahadur Shastri International Airport, an integrated multi-modal terminal combining water, rail, and road transport at Kashi Railway Station, interstate inland navigation, and the widening of all city entry roads into four-lane corridors. The modernization and expansion of the Banaras, Varanasi, and Kashi railway stations, along with the nation's first urban ropeway project and an international cricket stadium, are also part of this vision. Currently, Banaras operates several international flights alongside domestic air connectivity to almost all major cities and state capitals across India. Simultaneously, a seamless rail network spans every corner of the country from Banaras, anchored by modern, premium rail services like the Vande Bharat Express.
In the medical sector, although Banaras was not granted an independent AIIMS (All India Institute of Medical Sciences), a concerted effort was made to bridge that gap. The Institute of Medical Sciences at BHU was upgraded into an AIIMS-like institution. This was supported by the creation of the National Aging Geriatric Center, a Super Specialty Center, and a Regional Eye Specialty Center. It also features a Level-1 Trauma Center—ranking among the largest emergency care facilities in the nation—the Institute of Bone Marrow Transplantation, and a 150-bed Critical Care Unit. Additionally, a 200-bed Vishram Sadan (rest house) was built using CSR funds from the Power Grid Corporation of India to provide accommodation for patients' families. Furthermore, the city is pacing toward becoming a major medical hub with the establishment of the Mahamana Cancer Institute, RJ Sankara Eye Hospital, Sadguru Netra Chikitsalaya, and medical institutions like the Sowa Rigpa Medical College, ESIC Medical College, Saraswati Shivkishan Damani Medical College, and a Homeopathic Medical College. This is complemented by the modernization and expansion of the Kabirchaura Hospital and the upgrading of the Government Ayurvedic College.
In the realm of education, the initiatives are quietly fulfilling their foundational goals away from the media spotlight. Cutting-edge, central-government-established institutes like the Central Institute of Petrochemicals Engineering & Technology (CIPET), the National School of Drama (NSD), the National Institute of Fashion Technology (NIFT), and the Indian Institute of Gems & Jewellery (IIGJ) rarely find a mention in mainstream debates. Projects like the Urban Ropeway, the Rudraksh Convention Center, the Deendayal Hastkala Sankul, Sampurnanand Stadium, Namo Ghat, the under-construction divisional office building named 'Damroo', the under-construction municipal corporation headquarters named 'Trishul', the integrated multi-modal terminal at Kashi Railway Station, and the Dalmandi road-widening project are all set to script a completely new chapter in the saga of Banaras's development.
Addressing the citizens of Kashi regarding the ropeway project, PM Modi remarked: “The ropeway is a wonderful solution for those who dread the traffic jams of Banaras. Once completed, the travel time between Cantt Railway Station and the Kashi Vishwanath Corridor will be reduced to just a few minutes. The bottleneck at Godowlia will also ease significantly. For travelers who used to avoid exploring Banaras due to its gridlocks, commuting will become incredibly easy once the ropeway is functional.” Operating at a height of 50 meters above the roads, this upcoming ropeway will facilitate a 3.8-kilometer journey from Varanasi Station to Godowlia, set to be operational by the upcoming Navratri festival. Meanwhile, the world-class indoor stadium constructed at the Sampurnanand Sports Complex in Sigra features facilities for cricket, football, an athletics track, four lawn tennis courts, a basketball court, a volleyball court, two kabaddi courts, modern dressing rooms, and a cafeteria. It is estimated that 24 out of the 28 sports played in the Olympics can be hosted within this stadium.
To prevent untreated city sewage from flowing directly into the Ganga, a treatment plant with a capacity of 55 MLD (Million Liters per Day) has already been commissioned near BHU in Bhagwanpur under the Namami Gange project. Continuous efforts are underway to meet the city’s environmental management and energy requirements by setting up domestic piped gas line (PNG) networks alongside CNG stations, developing Miyawaki urban forests, and promoting CNG vehicles, electric vehicles (e-vehicles), and domestic solar power systems. In the coming days, mega projects such as modern bus terminals across all four cardinal directions of the city, a Transport Nagar in Mohansarai, integrated residential townships along the Outer Ring Road, a Signature Bridge and a new rail corridor at Rajghat, and elevated corridors over the Ganga and Varuna rivers will fully take shape.
Additionally, work is progressing on another highly critical project: an HP (Hindustan Petroleum) bottling plant in Isarwar village, which will receive direct LPG supplies. This project is a part of the Kandla-Gorakhpur Pipeline (KGPL) initiative, which transports LPG from the Kandla port in Gujarat through Madhya Pradesh all the way to Gorakhpur. Sources indicate that this facility will ensure a non-stop supply of LPG cylinders to Varanasi and 20 neighboring districts across UP. The direct beneficiaries of this bottling plant project will include the districts of Chandauli, Jaunpur, Ghazipur, Bhadohi, Mirzapur, Sonbhadra, Azamgarh, Ballia, Mau, Ambedkar Nagar, Banda, Sultanpur, Amethi, Pratapgarh, Raebareli, Prayagraj, Fatehpur, Kaushambi, and Chitrakoot.
Developmental works are actively underway across multiple sectors, including health, education, roads, employment, tourism, and transit. Several schemes are being executed to ensure comfortable commuting for the public, visible through new flyovers, ring roads, and extensive road-widening projects. Serving as a major lifeline is the ₹325.59 crore Shivpur-Phulwariya-Lahartara four-lane corridor. Under tourism, employment generation, and urban beautification, projects like the ₹72.63 crore Sarnath Buddhist Circuit and the ₹39.20 crore Panchkoshi Parikrama pilgrimage route are also highly prominent.
Varanasi’s development model has captured international attention. The daily lives of local residents are becoming noticeably smoother. The structural overhaul of the Kashi Vishwanath Temple and the enhanced civic amenities have fueled a massive spike in tourist footfall. This surge in tourism has catalyzed a wave of new employment opportunities across the city. Naturally, when Banaras prospers, the surrounding regions benefit too; the populace of Purvanchal and neighboring Bihar are reaping these rewards. While these initiatives have undeniably accelerated commercial activity and generated new jobs, this employment remains largely short-term, temporary, and occasion-dependent. The explosion in domestic tourists has boosted hospitality sectors like hotels, banquet lawns, home-stays, and travel services, yet this does not guarantee long-term economic stability.
What Banaras truly needs is to transition into a modern cyber and digital service industry hub, mirroring cities like Bangalore, Hyderabad, or Pune. Today, equipped with upgraded transit, stable electricity, robust transport networks, and state-of-the-art infrastructure, Banaras has achieved a stage where it can actively be developed into a Cyber City. It can be stated with absolute certainty that a rock-solid foundation for development has been laid in Banaras; the need of the hour is to fortify it. However, parallel to this development, the city's overcrowding is worsening. Rapid migration is taking place into Banaras, drawing people not just from adjacent towns but from deeper pockets of Bihar, Jharkhand, and Madhya Pradesh. As a consequence, even the newly upgraded infrastructure appears stretched thin against the demands of the soaring population. A famous ghazal by Jagjit Singh aptly mirrors this reality: "Har taraf har kahin beshumar aadmi, har naye din naya intezar aadmi" (Countless faces everywhere you look; every new day brings a new struggle for man). Banaras is fast heading toward a similar destiny.
At the same time, it warrants deep introspection to evaluate the true price Banaras has paid for this rapid expansion. A large section of locals firmly believes that the aggressive commercial modernization of the city is suffocating its unique essence—its Banarasiyat. What exactly has Banarasiyat lost? What kind of fragmentation has the city experienced in its original character, heritage, and temperament? This remains a vital question, and it is precisely what we shall dissect?
Kashi,Sunday, August 23, 2026.
