The Maha Kumbh Mela in Prayagraj is the world’s largest religious gathering, drawing everyone from devout pilgrims to A-listers. This year, Coldplay’s Chris Martin and Dakota Johnson were spotted at the festival. But from day one, I feared for my safety. With at least a dozen people killed in a stampede, it now seems this tragedy was inevitable.
As a journalist covering the Maha Kumbh during the first Shahi Snan (holy dip) on 14 January, I quickly realised how easily the situation could spiral out of control.
Devotees broke through barricades and rushed into the Sangam waters reserved for the sadhus. As they flooded the designated area, chaos erupted. The police made frantic calls for reinforcements, but thousands surged forward.
Police on horseback waded into the water, wielding sticks and lathis to disperse the crowd. But like the waves, the devotees kept returning. Each time, the scene repeated itself—only with greater force from the police.
As officers struck devotees with sticks, panic spread. People ran in all directions, shoving one another, while journalists from around the world captured the chaos on camera.
Amid the rush of devotees and the police’s desperate attempts to regain control, I stepped back hastily, slipped, and twisted my ankle. It was only after I got out of the water that I realised the twist had turned into a muscle tear.
Another journalist fell into the freezing water and had to be pulled up by her colleagues. Order was finally restored after nearly 20 minutes. But one thing was clear—nobody was willing to follow the rules, and the police’s only response was to beat people into submission.
Also read: Maha Kumbh and India’s new-age sadhus—riding Bullets, making Reels
Washing away the sins
Standing knee-deep in the freezing water to report on the first holy dip, I, along with other journalists, arrived at the reserved Sangam area around 2 am. Reaching the waters was a challenge in itself—everyone was jostling for space, making it difficult to even catch a breath. That was when the thought struck me: if I fell, I would be trampled to death. Clutching my colleague Suraj’s hand, we walked for an hour through the dense crowd to reach the Sangam area.
By the time we arrived, over a dozen photojournalists and a handful of video journalists were already there, waiting for the Naga Sadhus. Press passes hung around our necks, hard-earned but seemingly useless as we searched in vain for a designated media area. We were told to stand among the devotees. After a long discussion, the Jal police finally relented, allowing us to quietly stand in the water near the barricades to capture the Sadhus’ arrival.
We were warned not to get too close—Naga Sadhus could become aggressive and push us into the water. The driver of a Jal police boat recounted incidents from the 2013 Maha Kumbh, when angry Sadhus, upset at being photographed, had shoved journalists into the river. Yet, the wait dragged on.
The Sadhus were supposed to arrive at 4 am, but by 6 am, there was still no sign of them. The chaos only grew.
Amid the uncertainty, a woman holding a bag over her head waded into the water. I asked if she knew the area was reserved for the Sadhus. She shook her head. “I’m lucky to find some space to take the holy dip,” she said. She and her husband took turns—one holding the bag while the other stepped into the sacred waters.
“Sadhus are already pious souls,” her husband said with a deep laugh. “We, humans, have committed sins, and we’ve come here to wash them away.”
‘Opium of the masses’
The deaths of at least 12 people in the stampede expose a glaring failure in crowd management.
Last December, the temporary city of Maha Kumbh was declared a district. Lakhs of tents were erected, 30 pontoon bridges were built, and drones were deployed alongside more than 30,000 police personnel.
Detailed plans were drawn up to manage an estimated 40 crore devotees. Yet, the Uttar Pradesh administration was caught unprepared. One thing is clear: religion is truly the opium of the masses.
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(Edited by Aamaan Alam Khan)
@Shivam Vij: Ha…! Now that you begged it, speaking of.. Why haven’t any well-known astrologers spoken-up about this even after the fact? Like.. Aren’t they all about the sanctity of faith through their busi– err.. practice?
Very timely article.
Ms. Kissu is a clairvoyant. A side business of astrology would be a good option for her.