Through the Heartland of India – Part 9
Ayodhya: Faith, Transformation and the Politics of a Sacred City
We set out from
Chitrakoot at eight in the morning. To reach Ayodhya, we had to pass through
Prayagraj once again. Ayodhya is about 270 kilometres from Chitrakoot, and our
journey took us through Pratapgarh, Ramganj and Sultanpur.
En route, we stopped
at a small shop for tea. A husband and wife ran the shop together while their
daughter and son played nearby. It was a holiday because of Vishwakarma
Jayanti. Over tea, our conversation naturally turned to administration and
public services.
They told us that the
children regularly attend school partly because they receive meals there. At
one point, when enrolment declined, several government schools had reportedly
been closed. Following protests—partly driven by concerns that liquor shops were
increasing while educational institutions were declining—the schools were
subsequently reopened. They also pointed out, however, that many government
schools still struggle with inadequate enrolment.
Our driver, Rajesh,
said that his children attend a private school, where the monthly fee is ₹6,500
for one child. The conversation then turned to politics. The couple expressed
their admiration for Chief Minister Yogi Adityanath. The woman happily remarked,
“I, too, receive ₹1,000 in my account on the first of every month.” Such direct
financial assistance can clearly make a difference to women from economically
weaker households.
We continued our
journey, had lunch at around 2:30 p.m., and reached Ayodhya by 6 p.m. We
checked into Hotel Shubharambh and freshened up. The hotel industry here still
appears to be in the early stages of professionalisation, and this was evident
at our hotel. Maintenance work was underway, while the receptionists and other
staff showed little enthusiasm in welcoming guests. Things improved only after
we complained to Mugini Trails, our travel agency.
A city transformed
In casual
conversations, local people repeatedly spoke about how dramatically Ayodhya had
changed. Areas that had once been associated with narrow roads, protests,
disorder and curfews are now witnessing extensive construction and development.
The economic activity generated by the Ram temple is clearly visible.
Rajesh recalled
visiting Ayodhya for his uncle’s wedding in 1996. According to him, the banks
of the Sarayu were then littered with human and animal waste. Today, the scene
is very different. People whose land was acquired for development received
compensation, and some have accumulated considerable wealth. Whether the
benefits of this transformation are reaching people of all communities equally
is a separate question; the visible scale of development, however, is
undeniable.
Pandey, the guide who
accompanied us to the temple, offered another personal perspective. His father
had worked at the post office near the Babri Masjid and is now retired. Pandey
himself has worked at various jobs over the years. Since the temple became a
major pilgrimage destination, he has taken up guiding tourists, which has
increased his daily income.
His wife died ten
years ago after being bitten by a snake at home. They did not realise at the
time that it was a snakebite. His eyes welled up as he recalled the tragedy.
“I never remarried. I
have three children. My eldest daughter is in the final year of higher
secondary school and is turning eighteen. Her wedding is in November,” he told
us.
Politics in Ayodhya
The political
conversations we heard were revealing. Among many Hindu residents we met, Yogi
Adityanath enjoys enormous popularity. Some spoke of him as a possible future
Prime Minister and expressed the view that the BJP's electoral prospects in
Uttar Pradesh would suffer if he were replaced.
At the same time,
anti-Muslim sentiments were evident in some conversations. Some people spoke of
Muslims as though their attitudes had remained unchanged since the time of
Aurangzeb. There was also a fear among some that Muslims, though currently
quiet, would pose a threat to Hindus if the Samajwadi Party came to power.
The Muslim residents
we encountered were generally reluctant to discuss such subjects. Their
reluctance suggested a degree of insecurity and apprehension, although it would
be difficult to generalise from these individual encounters.
The 2024 Lok Sabha
election provided an interesting counterpoint. Faizabad, the constituency that
includes Ayodhya, was won by the Samajwadi Party's Awadhesh Prasad, defeating
the sitting BJP MP Lallu Singh. Singh had represented the constituency in 2014
and 2019. Contemporary reporting also recorded local concerns about employment,
prices and the impact of redevelopment.
When I asked Pandey
about Lallu Singh's defeat, he attributed it to local dissatisfaction with the
MP and said, “We were the ones who defeated him.” He described Lallu Singh as
an abrasive leader who lacked warmth towards people. In contrast, local people
spoke highly of Ayodhya MLA Ved Prakash Gupta.
The episode left me
with a simple thought: political power may be important, but people do not
necessarily tolerate arrogance.
The Ram Temple
Vehicle restrictions
are in place in parts of Ayodhya, and e-rickshaws are commonly used to reach
the temple precinct and other important temples. We headed directly to the Ram
temple that evening. Since it was already night, there was very little crowd.
The temple is being
constructed in the traditional Nagara style, with Kota stone and elaborate
sculptural work. The planned structure is about 380 feet long, 250 feet wide
and 161 feet high, with 360 pillars and 44 entrances. The ground floor depicts
episodes from the life of Lord Rama, while the upper floor contains the Darbar.
The temple has been
constructed as a monumental pilgrimage centre, and the scale of the work is
impressive. Construction continues around the clock, and workers told us that
several more years would be required before the entire complex is completed.
The idol of Ram
Lalla is 51 inches tall. The temple's construction has also involved
bringing soil and materials from different parts of India, reinforcing the
sense that the project represents a national religious undertaking.
The Supreme Court's
2019 judgment ended the long-running title dispute by directing that the
disputed site be handed over for the construction of a Ram temple and ordering
that five acres of alternative land be allotted to the Sunni Central Waqf Board
for a mosque.
The temple was opened
to devotees in January 2024 even though the larger complex was still under
construction.
Ayodhya: history and faith
The history of Ayodhya
is considerably older and more complicated than the modern political dispute
surrounding the Ram Janmabhoomi site.
The ancient settlement
is associated in historical sources with the name Saketa. Buddhist and Jain
literature refers to Saketa as an important settlement, and the city appears to
have been a significant centre of the Kosala region. The Buddha and Mahavira
are traditionally associated with the wider region.
The relationship
between Saketa and Ayodhya developed over centuries. During the Gupta period,
Brahmanical traditions experienced a revival, and the religious significance of
Ayodhya grew. The Supreme Court's judgment, while examining the historical evidence,
also noted scholarly views that the development of Ayodhya as a major centre of
Rama pilgrimage took place particularly in the second millennium CE.
Subsequently, the
region came under the rule of several dynasties, including the Maukharies,
Gurjara-Pratiharas and Gahadavalas, followed by Muslim and Mughal rule. Under
the Nawabs, Ayodhya formed part of Awadh, while Lucknow eventually became the
political centre of the region.
The Ramayana tradition
identifies Ayodhya as the capital of King Dasharatha and the birthplace of Lord
Rama. For millions of Hindus, this is a matter of religious faith and forms the
foundation of Ayodhya's extraordinary spiritual significance.
The Babri Masjid was
constructed in the 16th century during the Mughal period. Over the centuries,
the site became the centre of an increasingly bitter religious dispute. The
Supreme Court's 2019 judgment examined extensive archaeological, historical and
documentary material. It did not, however, establish as a judicial fact that a
Ram temple had been demolished specifically to construct the mosque.
The dispute
intensified during the 20th century and became a major national political
issue. In December 1992, the Babri Masjid was demolished by a large crowd of
kar sevaks. A temporary structure and idol of Ram Lalla were subsequently
installed at the site. The events triggered widespread communal violence and
profoundly influenced Indian politics.
The Vishwa Hindu
Parishad's Ram Janmabhoomi campaign, the mobilisation of the BJP and other
organisations, and the subsequent legal and political developments transformed
Ayodhya from a major pilgrimage town into one of the most consequential
political symbols in modern India.
It is important to
distinguish faith from historical evidence. Archaeological excavations have
produced evidence of earlier structures at the site, but archaeology cannot
establish the birthplace of a figure whose historicity belongs primarily to
religious tradition. The worship of Ram Lalla and the temple being constructed
today ultimately rest on faith as well as the legal resolution of the property
dispute.
Inside the temple
The pillars of the new
temple are covered with intricate sculptures, and the premises are
exceptionally clean. Facilities are available for the free safekeeping of
mobile phones and footwear.
The idol of Ram Lalla
is installed in an open sanctum. There were no priests distributing flowers or
sandalwood paste, and no conventional offering of prasad was involved in
the process we witnessed. Those wishing to make donations could do so and
obtain receipts.
Visitors dressed
modestly are permitted to enter. Certain articles, such as pens and combs, are
prohibited, while wallets and eyeglasses are permitted. Another notable feature
is that a large proportion of the security personnel are women.
Construction continues
at a rapid pace, with work taking place day and night. Hotels, restaurants and
other commercial establishments are rapidly emerging within a radius of several
kilometres, indicating the scale of the economic transformation accompanying
the temple.
After visiting the
temple, we watched the Aarti on the banks of the Sarayu. There too, the
commercialisation of devotion was visible—from coupons being circulated to
offerings being organised. A modern-day sannyasi appeared to orchestrate
the ceremony almost like a conductor leading a musical ensemble. The entire
process had become an elaborate chain of organised activity.
We then returned to
our hotel for dinner. The rest of Ayodhya would have to wait until the
following day.
Exploring the temple circuit
The next morning,
since the temple visit had already been completed, we woke up leisurely. After
finishing my exercise routine, we had breakfast at 8:30 a.m.—bread and butter,
papaya, bananas, vermicelli upma, aloo paratha, curd and tea.
The temple circuit was
about eight kilometres from our hotel. Pandey and an electric auto-rickshaw
were waiting for us. We allowed Rajesh to rest and travelled by e-rickshaw,
which was convenient because numerous smaller temples surround the major ones.
Our first important
stop was Hanuman Garhi, which was crowded. We then visited Kanak Bhawan,
traditionally believed to have been a palace gifted by Kaikeyi for Rama and
Sita after their marriage. Such accounts belong to the realm of faith and
tradition.
Pandey took us to
several other places, including the Valmiki Mandir and a trust run by a Swami.
The trust conducts daily Annadanam, and we were shown its kitchen. There
was a covered well which, we were told, had been used by Sita for drawing water
and that food had been prepared in that very kitchen.
Finally, we met the
Swami, an elderly man dressed in white. A young man acted as his promoter and
claimed that the Swami had survived for twenty years by consuming only one
fruit a day. The Swami's expression, however, appeared more resigned than
triumphant.
The young man then
produced three large ledgers recording contributions to the food-distribution
programme. The stated contribution was ₹2,500 for breakfast, ₹5,000 for lunch
and ₹10,000 for all three meals. After hearing this, we quietly slipped away.
At the next stop, we
saw a huge brass mace, a bow and arrow, and a war conch, along with massive
rocks said to have been brought from Nepal, Rajasthan and Karnataka. We were
told that these objects would eventually be shifted to the temple complex.
Inside the Valmiki
Ramayan Bhavan, the story of the Ramayana is inscribed in Sanskrit on the
marble walls. The spacious hall contains statues of Valmiki, Lava and Kusha.
Looking at the statues, one could not help wondering whose human faces the
sculptor might have had in mind. A statue of Hanuman dressed in attire
resembling a churidar was another curious sight.
Temples, ashrams and the old city
At the Shri Char Dham
Mandir, women were dancing joyfully to devotional music. The temple houses
idols associated with Dwarka, Rameswaram, Jagannath and Badrinath. Entry to the
main hall was through a passage guarded by a statue of Hanuman standing with his
legs apart. Lord Shiva and Lord Rama are also enshrined there.
Numerous temples and
ashrams dot the area, with pilgrims arriving from early morning. Old buildings
are scattered among the newer constructions, and even a goshala can be
found amidst the crowded surroundings.
Another place we
visited was the so-called royal palace of Dasharatha, now associated with the Akhada
of Baba Sri Ramachandra Prasadji Maharaj. We were told that Dasharatha had held
his royal court there.
We also visited the
approximately 500-year-old Sri Rajdwar Mandir. Unlike many other structures, it
appears to have undergone relatively little renovation. Its conical roof is
particularly striking. It is attributed to Maharaja Sri Darshan Singh. I felt that
this was a structure deserving greater government attention and conservation.
The Sarayu and the Korean connection
We then went to the
Sarayu in daylight. The river spreads out broadly, and people were bathing near
the banks. The water appeared murky. Several boats were moored along the shore,
but none was operating at the time. Even a modern, air-conditioned boat capable
of carrying around 150 passengers was lying idle, perhaps because of the
limited number of tourists at that hour.
We also visited the
memorial park dedicated to Heo Hwang-ok near Ram Katha Park, following a
suggestion from Radhakrishnan, who writes articles for the South Korean
government.
According to the Samguk
Yusa, a 13th-century Korean chronicle, Heo Hwang-ok travelled from the land
of Ayuta to Korea and married King Suro of Gaya. Korean official cultural
sources associate Ayuta with Ayodhya and place the marriage in 48 CE.
The tradition has
given Ayodhya an interesting cultural connection with Korea. Queen Heo is
remembered in Korea as an ancestor associated with major clans, including the
Gimhae Kim and Gimhae Heo clans. The memorial therefore represents an unusual
cultural bridge between India and Korea.
The beautifully
designed park was developed with South Korean assistance. The entrance fee was
only ₹10. It had seating areas, a replica sailing ship, a model Korean temple,
an amphitheatre, walkways and toilets. Unfortunately, the park was in poor
condition. Several objects appeared to have been stolen, while weeds had
overgrown parts of the grounds. The site clearly deserves greater maintenance
and protection.
Construction was also
underway at Ram Katha Park, which is expected to become a permanent venue for
cultural programmes.
Suraj Kund and the old Ayodhya
In the evening, we
visited Suraj Kund. During the journey, we caught a glimpse of another
Ayodhya—the densely populated Muslim neighbourhoods, with mosques and meat
markets, located some distance from the temple precinct. It was difficult to
judge whether the benefits of the current development were reaching these
residents.
Suraj Kund itself has
been extensively beautified. A large pond lies at its centre, with a Sun Temple
nearby. A laser show depicting the story of Rama is held at the pond. There is
also a food court, gaming zone and gift shop.
We watched the 7 p.m.
laser show. I felt that similar facilities in the vicinity of Guruvayur Temple
could provide devotees with a place to spend time after their temple visit. The
entrance fee was ₹30.
Ayodhya and the larger political journey
As I lay down to
sleep, one thought kept returning to me: the sheer magnitude of the political
journey India has travelled over the past three decades, with Ayodhya, the
Babri Masjid dispute and the emotionally charged question of Ram Janmabhoomi at
its centre.
Political movements
have risen, declined and disappeared, while others have grown in strength. Yet
religion and caste continue to occupy an extraordinary place in Indian
politics.
Ayodhya therefore
cannot be understood merely as a temple town. It is simultaneously a place of
faith, history, memory, economic transformation and political mobilisation.
What I saw during these two days was not simply a city undergoing rapid
physical change, but a society wrestling with the relationship between
religion, development, identity and politics.
That, perhaps, is the
most lasting impression Ayodhya left on me.
