The spiritual city of Kashi, home to the revered Kashi Vishwanath Temple, is witnessing an alarming rise in organized fraud targeting unsuspecting pilgrims. While the temple continues to draw lakhs of devotees from across the country and beyond, a parallel network of conmen is thriving in its shadows—duping people through fake websites, overpriced offerings, and impersonation scams, often right under the nose of law enforcement.
In recent months, a series of cyber frauds have surfaced involving fake websites designed to closely mimic the official portal of the Kashi Vishwanath Temple. These fraudulent sites, including names like gharmandir.in and kashivishwanath.in, falsely offer bookings for Sugam Darshan, Rudrabhishek, and Aarti, especially during the holy month of Sawan when the official website suspends these services due to heavy rush.
The scale of deception is significant, with an estimated ₹10 lakh extracted from hundreds of devotees. The Chief Executive Officer of the Shri Kashi Vishwanath Temple Trust, Vishw Bhushan has formally lodged complaints with the police, yet these operations continue to run unabated.
Beyond the digital scams, ground-level trickery has become equally rampant. Around the temple complex, a market of coercion has taken shape. Flower, prasad, and ritual item sellers aggressively hawk their products at inflated prices. A basic basket — typically containing a few sweets, a small garland, and a little milk — is sold at Rs 150 or more, with pilgrims being told they must buy one per person. Those who question the pricing or ask for smaller portions are often met with rudeness or threats.
Another layer of exploitation targets devotees unaware of the temple’s restriction on electronic items such as mobile phones and smartwatches. Upon reaching the temple gates with these devices, many find themselves lost and confused. This is where another group of conmen steps in, offering to store the gadgets “safely” in nearby shops.
These shops, however, compel visitors to purchase expensive offerings or pay locker charges under pressure. Over time, numerous shops in the one-kilometre radius of the temple have set up makeshift locker rooms, capitalizing on this ignorance and anxiety among out-of-town pilgrims.
The manipulation begins much before one even reaches the temple. In key areas such as Godowlia, Maidagin, Dashashwamedh, and Girjaghar, men dressed as traditional pandas — wearing dhoti-kurta and religious tilaks — roam freely. They approach tourists claiming to arrange “special” darshan without queues. Falling into this trap, several devotees follow them through narrow alleys only to be dropped at the general entrance of the temple. By then, the realisation dawns that they have been misled, but there is little they can do.
What is even more disturbing is that these scams happen openly, often in front of police personnel. These fake pandas demand anywhere from Rs 500 per person to Rs 5,000 for access to the sanctum sanctorum. On a busy day, a single operator can make several thousand rupees through such deceit. Despite multiple complaints, pilgrims are frequently pacified or discouraged from filing formal reports, further emboldening the conmen.
To address these ongoing rackets, the police have started invoking provisions under the Bharatiya Nyaya Sanhita (BNS), including Section 170 (impersonating a public servant), Section 126 (wrongful restraint), and Section 135 (attempting to take someone hostage). However, enforcement remains lax and the deterrent impact, minimal.
For pilgrims coming to Kashi in search of spiritual solace, these experiences are nothing short of traumatic. They return with bitter memories of coercion, intimidation, and deception, rather than with the peace they had hoped to find. While the government and temple authorities have taken steps to modernize and beautify the temple area, the unchecked presence of such fraudsters continues to tarnish Varanasi’s image.
The need of the hour is a sustained crackdown on these scams. This includes not only stronger police presence but also awareness campaigns for pilgrims, tighter regulation of vendors, a crackdown on fake websites, and improved signages to guide first-time visitors. Without immediate action, the city risks losing the trust of those who come seeking divine connection. In a place where devotion should rule, the rise of these Banaras ke thug is a disturbing trend — and one that demands urgent attention.
