- By Laxmi Narayan Tiwari
2025.07.04 (Vrindavan Today News): Every stone is said to echo the footfalls of the Divine in Vrindavan. The Divine manifested to scores of ascetics and they together developed the temple town of Vrindavan. With the recent development of the proposed Banke Bihari Corridor, a serious question now looms large over the future of its spiritual and cultural heritage.
With the land survey and measurements completed around the Banke Bihari Temple by the Uttar Pradesh Government the residents are seriously concerned about the small temples situated around the Banke Bihari Temple. Many of these temples have been demarcated for the demolition to make way to develop the corridor. The demolition will bring an end to the original architectural character of Vrindavan.
The corridor, reportedly planned over five acres of land, is part of an infrastructural initiative to facilitate the movement of pilgrims and streamline the temple experience. However, this modern intervention risks erasing irreplaceable chapters of Vrindavan’s living history.
There are several centuries-old temple structures, including one that deeply stirred concern: the historic Radha Mohan Ji Mandir, located in what is known as the Radha Mohan Ji ka Ghera. This sacred enclosure is not just another site on Vrindavan’s spiritual map—it is a 16th-century precinct steeped in devotion and architectural elegance. The temple is home to the sevyavigraha (worshipped deity) of Thakur Shri Radha Mohan Ji, installed by Goswami Shri Krishnachandra Ji Maharaj, the second son of the great rasika-acharya and founder of the Radha Vallabha Sampradaya, Shri Hit Harivansh.
What makes this temple even more significant is its architectural kinship with the original Radha Vallabh Mandir, which today is a protected monument under the Archaeological Survey of India (ASI). Both temples, built using regal red sandstone, feature similar toranas (arches), doorways, and overall architectural grammar, clearly indicating their shared Mughal-era origin. The Radha Mohan Ji Mandir was constructed right beside the old Radha Vallabh Mandir, forming a twin-spiritual and architectural axis in the heart of Vrindavan.
Historical records, preserved in the National Archives of India, New Delhi, reveal that in 1598 CE, Emperor Akbar issued a farmān (royal decree) granting 30 bighas of agricultural land—tax-exempt and meant for sustenance (madad-e-ma‘āsh)—to the temple of Thakur Shri Radha Mohanji. This land was located near the Dusayat locality of Vrindavan. The decree was part of a broader initiative under which 35 temples in Mathura and Vrindavan received similar grants, acknowledging their importance to the local religious fabric. The name of Shri Radha Mohan Mandir appears prominently in this list, offering rare insight into the syncretic religious policies of the Mughal era.
While Shri Banke Bihari Ji Temple, relocated to this neighborhood from the sacred groves of Nidhivan around 1785 CE, enjoys a central place in Vrindavan’s spiritual map today, it is crucial to recognize that the Radha Mohan temple predates it by nearly two centuries. The area, now known as Biharipura, was once the thriving heart of the Radha Mohan complex long before the rise of Banke Bihari worship in this locale.
Tragically, while the ghera itself has succumbed to the pressures of urban habitation over the centuries, the Thakur Radha Mohan Ji Mandir still stands—silent, sacred, and resilient. Yet today, its very survival is under threat.
According to temples current sevayat, Shri Mridul Ballabh Goswami, the entire temple precinct, including the Radha Mohan Ji Mandir, has been measured and marked for demolition as part of the proposed corridor project. Survey numbers have already been affixed. If the current plan proceeds unaltered, the ancient temple could be razed—sacrificed at the altar of development.
This is not merely a local issue. It is a clarion call for heritage conservation, demanding the attention of national and international stakeholders. The matter raises a fundamental question: Can infrastructural advancement be justified at the cost of irreplaceable spiritual, historical, and cultural landmarks?
There is an old stone inscription on the samadhi (tomb-shrine) of Shri Chain Kishor Goswami Ji, located within the same threatened premises. The inscription, etched in Hindi in the year 1874 of the Vikram Samvat calendar (roughly 1817 AD), reads:
“Samvat 1874, Miti Maagh Badi 5, Hit Chhainkishorji Samadhi. Tajja Matru Mishra Krishna Prasad Ne Banai. Jo Hindu va Musalman ya Samadhi ko vighn kare, so gaya-suar khaye.”
(“This is the samadhi of Hit Chhain Kishor Ji, made by Krishna Prasad Mishra. Whoever, be it Hindu or Muslim, disturbs this samadhi, may they be devoured by cows and pigs.”)
This rustic, emotional plea, rooted in the cultural idioms of its time—might sound folkloric today, but it embodies a timeless spirit of devotion and protection. It stands as a stark reminder of the sanctity once attributed to these places, across faiths and communities. In the current context, its message is nothing short of prophetic.
Let development not come at the price of destruction. Let a conservation-sensitive approach be adopted, where pilgrimage facilities can be enhanced without endangering the sacred legacy. Let Vrindavan breathe as Vrindavan—not as a memory buried beneath concrete.
The Thakur Radha Mohan Ji Mandir is not just a structure; it is an embodiment of bhakti, art, history, and community. To destroy it would be to sever a living artery from Vrindavan’s spiritual heart.
In a world chasing speed and scale, may the wisdom to pause, preserve, and protect prevail.
