Vrindavan: Twenty-six-year-old PR professional Divya Bhatia flips her hair, pouts, and smiles at the camera. The uptempo ‘Radhakrishna Naamawali Chant’ by Akanksha Bhandari and Mohit Lalwani plays as Banke Bihari Temple and Radhavallabh Mandir flash by, spliced with her hennaed hands and a sunlit rickshaw ride through Vrindavan’s crowded, colourful streets. When life gets too much, this is Bhatia’s go-to place—a package of religion, relaxation, and reels.
Every weekend, a snaking line of cars crawls toward Mathura-Vrindavan in Uttar Pradesh’s Braj region, packed with families, college students, and influencers chasing more than just darshan. It’s not just temples and Parikrama on offer—there’s paragliding, boating, and fountain shows at Prem Mandir. At Banke Bihari Temple, young women in Gopi lehengas twirl for the camera. On the ghats, swings have been set up for visitors to lounge, pose, and frame their Vrindavan vlogs. Costume rentals outside the temples do brisk business in Radha skirts, yellow dhotis, peacock mukuts, and bansuris. Selfie points now line the roads.
But for some residents and priests, the spectacle is wearing thin.
“Humein bheed nahi, bhaav chahiye” (We don’t want crowds, we want devotion), said Gyanendra, aka Chhotu Goswami, a priest at the Banke Bihari Temple.
This is the new Brajbhoomi, where devotion meets display and temples make for perfect backdrops. It’s no longer just the holy trinity of Kashi- Prayagraj- Ayodhya drawing crowds to Uttar Pradesh. Mathura-Vrindavan too is now a launchpad for religious influencers. From 72.5 lakh visitors in 2017, Braj pulled in over 6 crore domestic tourists in 2022—far outpacing party hub Goa’s 80 lakh, as Uttar Pradesh Chief Minister Yogi Adityanath pointed out last year. In the first six months of 2024 alone, Mathura received 3.07 crore tourists.
Online, too, the frenzy is visible. Mathura-Vrindavan content—video diaries, travelogues, and virtual darshans—steadily surfaces on feeds. Online searches for Mathura shot up by 223 per cent between 2022 and 2023, according to an August 2024 report by the PHD Chamber of Commerce and Industry and KPMG.
By Friday evening in Vrindavan, police barricades go up. Cars are stopped 6 km from Banke Bihari Temple at a parking area, and tourists are herded into e-rickshaws for the final stretch. Inside the town, the streets are packed. E-rickshaws blare their horns. Families drag bags and toddlers and young men and women work to angle their selfie sticks just right.
“This started a couple of years ago. Earlier, we used to take our car just 600 meters away from the temples. But the crowd has increased over the last 3-4 years, and we face a lot of problems. It is very difficult now to get darshan,” said Darpan Gupta, who was visiting Mathura with his friends last weekend and wending his way through the throngs to Banke Bihari Temple.
The crowds bring business for shops, hotels, restaurants, and adventure sports operators. But for some, it’s a nightmare.
“I start fearing Friday morning because, on Saturday evening, it becomes impossible for me to step outside my house,” said Madhav Goswami, a resident of Mathura’s Barsana, home to the popular Shri Radha Rani Temple. There is no space even to stand outside.”
Weekends in Braj bring spiritual succour and social media shenanigans for tourists, but streets get clogged, disputes flare between residents and tourists, and temple priests are calling out “disrespect” in the name of reels.
Also Read: Young Indians are making Khatu Shyam cool. Govt is playing catch-up with new temple corridor
Darshan to digital fame
For 22-year-old Shruti Singh, Mathura has become a weekend ritual. In the past four months, the Muzaffarnagar college student visited eight times — sometimes with friends, sometimes alone, sometimes with relatives. This pull to Mathura started with a picturesque reel. Since then, she’s stuck to the same three-day itinerary for every stay.
“There are a lot of things to see and visit here. I chose Mathura after watching a reel that had beautiful shots of amazing temples and Yamuna ghats. Since then, every time I come to Mathura, my itinerary is fixed,” said Singh, who was visiting the town with her aunt last weekend.
But it’s not just devotion that keeps bringing her back. It’s also a chance to build her own following.
“There is a lot of content available on social media about Mathura. Since I have been here for the last few months, I am also planning to create some content. I am exploring new places and trying to make a vlog about hidden places in Mathura,” said Singh while clicking a picture of her aunt.
This type of content is in demand. From children to elders, everyone is coming to Mathura, and they want to see Krishna and Mathura on their screens. So I started making videos about it
-Raj Katara, content creator from Mathura
If Ayodhya is the epicentre of Ram content, Mathura is seeing its own wave of Radha-Krishna reels and vlogs filling Instagram feeds.
PR professional Divya Bhatia has tapped into it too. She says she turns to Vrindavan when the pressures of daily life pile up. Her trips sometimes last two days, sometimes just one, and sometimes she makes a production out of them for her 10,000 Instagram followers.
“Lord Krishna is my safe space. I love the energy in Vrindavan. I am a spiritual person, and I love going to Mathura. We live a very stressful life, and in these times, everyone needs something to believe in. For me, it’s Vrindavan and Lord Krishna,” said Bhatia.
In a one-minute Vrindavan reel earlier this year, she packed in not just clips and snapshots but a mini temple circuit and tips for her followers. These included the price of rickshaw rides to advice to end the day with the “amazing light and sound show at Prem Mandir”.
“I try to capture everything I do for my followers, and that Vrindavan reel got so much love from people,” she added.
There’s a growing crowd of religious content creators who have found fertile ground in Mathura for videos of temple life, spiritual musings, and food recommendations.
We won’t find space to step outside of our houses. And with social media, many people start dancing on the street to record videos, which is another annoying thing.
-Rohit Upman, Barsana resident
Laxman Kumar Mukhwariya, known as @braj_short_bloging on Instagram, is one of them. His account ‘specialises’ in Barsana temples, fairs, and festivals. He’s amassed over 21,000 followers and often uses the sign-off: “Comment me radhe radhe jarur likhe” (write Radhe-Radhe in the comments).
Others mix religious content with lifestyle posts, like Simpi Sah (@sahsimpi), who has more than 96,000 followers on Instagram.
She recently posted a four-part series on her Braj travels, including a clip of herself getting her face done with kumkum before visiting Prem Mandir in Vrindavan. “Ab mein ban gayi hoon Radhe” (Now I have become Radha), she declared with a flourish of her hands.
As the buzz around Mathura’s Krishna content grows, many young creators see a path to social media heft opening up.
“This type of content is in demand. From children to elders, everyone is coming to Mathura, and they want to see Krishna and Mathura on their screens. So I started making videos about it,” said 19-year-old Raj Katara, a content creator from Mathura.
But it’s not as simple as pointing a camera. It takes patience, planning, and time to locate scenic views and fresh angles.
“I have to make time apart from my schedule,” said Katara. “To capture the shots, I find a location where the view is good. I make videos of monkeys, cows, and interesting things such as ‘Shree Radhe’ written on the trees.”
In one of his videos, he focused on Mathura’s mischievous monkeys, notorious for snatching tourists’ glasses and phones. The solution is apparently to offer the nimble-fingered monkey a soft drink in exchange for the stolen item.
Delhi’s Darpan Gupta has experienced the monkey menace and hostage negotiation scenario first-hand.
“I love visiting Mathura, but I have to prepare myself before coming here for many things—the crowd, a lot of walking, and mostly for the monkeys,” he said. “I bought brand-new sunglasses, and a monkey suddenly took them. The locals suggested that I should give a Rs 30 Frooti bottle. I gave that, and the monkey returned the sunglasses.”
Mathura-Vrindavan, with a capacity to host just 20,000 people, see footfalls rise to about 1 lakh on regular days, 2-2.5 lakh on weekends, and up to 5-6 lakh on major festivals like Krishna Janmashtami.
Temple town vs tourists
Weekends in Braj bring spiritual succour and social media shenanigans for tourists, but for residents, they bring frustration. Streets get clogged, disputes flare between residents and tourists, and temple priests are calling out “disrespect” in the name of reels. Residents also blame the civic authorities for doing little to manage the crowds and strain on infrastructure.
Mathura-Vrindavan, with a capacity to host just 20,000 people, see footfalls rise to about 1 lakh on regular days, 2-2.5 lakh on weekends, and up to 5-6 lakh on major festivals like Krishna Janmashtami. Even Barsana, a small town in Mathura district, has 60,000 to 80,000 people visiting every weekend, estimate local authorities. On special occasions like Ekadashi, Holi, and Janmashtami, the number reaches lakhs.
“After Covid, we are seeing high numbers of devotees here. After witnessing so many deaths, people’s faith and belief in Krishna have increased. Social media also played an important role in this. We are witnessing more young people coming here,” said Banke Bihari Temple priest Chhotu Goswami
But resentment is rising over the influx.
“The land has become so expensive because more and more people are coming here. Many have started buying land. But our peaceful lives are now disturbed forever,” said Barsana’s Madhav Goswami.
Earlier, one devotee used to take three to four minutes for darshan, but now, with pictures and videos, one person takes 10-15 minutes
-Sushil Goswami, priest at Nandbaba Temple
Many residents say there simply aren’t enough resources to go around, from water supply to space on the roads. What’s more, they claim, weekend visitors drive up prices for fruits and vegetables.
“We won’t find space to step outside of our houses. It becomes so hard even to go to the shops,” said Rohit Upman, another Barsana resident. “And with social media, many people start dancing on the street to record videos, which is another annoying thing.”
The tourists’ habit of clicking pictures and making reels annoys not only the residents but also the priests of big temples.
“There is a strict rule in the temple of not clicking pictures, but since there is no scanning, people bring their phones and click pictures and record videos. They capture the idol of Krishna on the same phone that they take everywhere—from hospitals to washrooms. This is disrespectful,” said Chhotu Goswami.
Selfie culture has also slowed down darshan.
“Earlier, one devotee used to take three to four minutes for darshan, but now, with pictures and videos, one person takes 10-15 minutes. Now imagine, with that crowd, people staying this long in the temples,” said Sushil Goswami, a priest at Nandbaba Temple in Mathura.
But it’s not all bad.
“The only good thing about this crowd is that people get to earn money,” added Upman.
Also Read: India’s youngest spiritual baba wants no friends, smartphones. What about homework, people ask
Hotel boom, Gopi fashion
Business is booming in Braj. Over the past few years, 100 to 150 new hotels have sprung up in Vrindavan alone, and all of them are fully booked on weekends and festivals, according to local residents.
Twenty-seven-year-old Pawan Saini works at Maa Vindhyachal Hotel, a mid-range establishment that opened four months ago and is often filled to capacity. Saini pulls 12-hour shifts to support his family of six, earning Rs 18,000 a month. He calls the job life-changing.
“I am the core provider in my family. It’s Lord Krishna’s grace that I got this job. I get tips too from guests,” said Saini.
Beyond hotels, Vrindavan’s temple tourism has sparked a cottage industry of costumes, makeovers, and photo-ops. The ‘Gopi’ look— lehenga-cholis, kumkum-dotted foreheads, and temple-inspired accessories — is in high demand.
“I come to the street at 7 am every day with my chandan and kumkum. There is no fixed rate; people give me money at their own will, from Rs 10 to 50. I earn Rs 1,000-1,200 rupees on weekends,” said a local vendor.
Next to Prem Mandir, a row of shops caters to tourists hoping to channel Radha for their Instagram reels. One of these shops, Gopi Garments, sells lehenga-cholis in a variety of colours and designs.
“This is the recent trend. Many young girls come asking for these dresses. They visit the temples dressed as Gopis and get their pictures clicked at different places. Earlier, I used to sell kurtas, but business is good with these,” said Brij Bihari who runs a clothing shop, Mohan Garments, in Vrindavan.
On her latest visit, aspiring content creator Shruti Singh bought a Gopi lehenga for Rs 550, planning to wear it for a dance video set to a Krishna bhajan at Kusum Sarovar, a sacred water reservoir in Govardhan.
“I feel like this could change my life. I enjoy Krishna bhajans, and people these days are crazy about this type of content. Maybe this could be my biggest career break,” she said, tracing the sandstone walls of Kusum Sarovar with her fingers. “If I succeed in this, I will start living here and vlog my daily life in Vrindavan.”
(Edited by Asavari Singh)