They say once in a while, in the quiet of a moonlit night, Krishna, the beloved Hindu god, still comes to Vrindavan. On a recent visit to the town, I mused that if he actually did, he probably won’t even be able to recognise this chaotic, over-crowded place as the serene one on the banks of the Yamuna where he was born! So much real estate development has taken place there; it is as if the very essence of Vrindavan has changed. Even before we entered the town, we started seeing billboards advertising modern high rises with ultra-modern amenities — all this practically in the lap of Lord Krishna and within striking distance of all major temples. One billboard took the cake. It read, “Your parents took care of you, now take care of them by buying them a retirement home in Vrindavan.”
Where was the sleepy temple town I once knew? I wondered as we navigated traffic jams in Vrindavan’s lanes (they were too narrow to be called roads). Its population (most of which seemed to be out on the roads) looked like it had exploded beyond the scope of its infrastructure. As our car inched to a halt, I asked our driver for the nth time. “Why have we stopped again?” He reported, “Several cars, a dozen bicycles and an angry bull all want to move at the same time ahead of us…and all in different directions!” In the cacophony, I noticed bemused locals by roadside, close enough to have their knees scraped by moving traffic.
Other than the inescapable fact that Vrindavan’s roads are built for only one-way traffic, this congestion is clearly a result of over-population and heedless real estate development that has occurred in the last decade. With real estate industry experts predicting that the realty industry will grow at a rate of over 40 per cent this year, buyers are flocking to Vrindavan for not only religious reasons, but also because it is a good investment. Consequently, we saw government housing projects, private condos for the well heeled, retirement projects for the elderly and shopping malls — all vying for the open green spaces that Vrindavan was once known for.
When we finally made it to our destination — a still serene ashram on the outskirts of the town, I got talking a devotee who has been coming to Vrindavan for 25 years. “When I used to come here as a child, Vrindavan used to be surrounded by jungles full of leopards, panthers, monkeys, deer and many other wild animals,” she said. Today, those forests have been replaced by the ugly sprawl of concrete jungles. “The fields and meadows where Krishna and his gopis once roamed with their herds are long gone too,” she said. “Every time I visit, I see yet another heritage building in ruins or being overshadowed by yet another high rise,” she said sadly. “And every time I see this I feel that the place where Krishna was born has been destroyed by people who claim to be His devotees…”
Looking at a crass apartment building looming high over a cowshed, I mused over what she’d said. Although, all this real estate development was being attributed to so many people wanting to live close to their deity, Krishna – were he to ever return to Vrindavan – would probably not relish the idea of having so many neighbours.
