By Brij Khandelwal
2025.09.06 (Vrindavan Today News): Agra, once a jewel of pride, now mirrors a city overwhelmed by chaos—traffic snarls, garbage heaps, potholed roads, stray animals roaming unchecked, bustling crowds, and a relentless clamor.
This city, famed globally for the Taj Mahal, Agra Fort, and Fatehpur Sikri, now looks less like a bastion of grandeur and more like a monument graveyard, drowning in dust, encroachments, and neglect. Every stone seems to cry silently, every narrow alley whispering tales of squandered glory. Once a dazzling spectacle to the world, Agra continues to yearn for the recognition of UNESCO’s “World Heritage City” status.
Environmentalist Dr. Debashish Bhattacharya highlights Agra’s singular charm: “Within one district, there are three World Heritage Sites, countless historic havelis, gardens, stepwells, and bustling bazaars. Yet these treasures are shackled by garbage dumps, haphazard constructions, and creeping urban sprawl. Whether at Delhi Gate or Sikandra, the narrow lanes of Taj Ganj or the roads to Etimad-ud-Daula—the very soul of history is being strangled. Encroachment threatens to smother monuments, and pollution blackens their once-pristine walls. Fatehpur Sikri, once the vibrant capital of Emperor Akbar, has now been deserted twice—first by its ruler, and now by its caretakers.”
If the monuments are Agra’s jewels, the lifeblood was the Yamuna River. That lifeblood now lies lifeless, a mere seasonal drain rather than the mighty river it once was. Dust from dry river sands combines with vehicular smoke to choke the city’s air. Activist Padmini laments, “The lifeblood running through Agra’s veins has dried up.”* Despite massive funds spent to “save the Taj, the Yamuna remains toxic and barren. Heritage advocates warn that without the Yamuna, the Taj Mahal loses its very spirit. Heavy rains may revive the river momentarily, but soon after, the same cycle of filth, poison, and drought returns.
The tragedy of Agra stems from misplaced priorities. Rather than realizing the dream of a Heritage City, officials chase the illusion of a “Smart City”—embracing high-rises, flyovers, and malls, sacrificing historic neighborhoods in the process. In this race for modernity, centuries-old havelis, gardens, and oriental bazaars face destruction under bulldozers, leaving the Taj Mahal stranded in a concrete jungle.
In 2021, the Supreme Court voiced serious concerns and directed the UP government to draft a vision plan for the Taj Trapezium Zone. The School of Planning and Architecture in Delhi prepared a detailed report, yet bureaucratic lethargy and the empty promises of the Smart City project buried these efforts.
This was not always the case. History recalls an Agra more luminous than London or Paris, where poets, artisans, merchants, and travelers enlivened every street. Craftsmen and carvers created miracles with stone and water. Today, every courtyard and minaret still narrates the story of that lost grandeur—if only someone would listen.
Despite millions of tourists annually, Agra grapples with shattered roads, unsafe travel, confusing signboards, and careless administration. While its name resonates worldwide, its pride remains absent.
UNESCO heritage status would offer more than just prestige; it would erect a protective shield around monuments, markets, and water bodies. It would ensure the city’s growth is sustainable—a goal yet unrealized by the Smart City initiative. For Agra’s ordinary citizens, this could be transformative. Managed tourism would generate jobs, preserve culture, and restore civic pride. Yet today, Agra’s residents feel alienated from their heritage, helplessly witnessing encroachments and external exploitation.
Organizations like UNESCO have extended help. Heritage and tourism experts advocate starting heritage walks that reveal Mughal Agra, colonial Agra, and modern Agra. However, without political will and urban cooperation, these efforts remain mere showpieces.
Agra gave the world the most iconic symbol of love. But love alone cannot save a city. Agra needs respect—respect for its river, for its tombs, and for its living history.
Shri Brij Khandelwal is a senior journalist from Agra. He was associated with different prominent news agencies. He taught journalism at Agra University for the Central Hindi Institute’s Department of Journalism and Mass Communication for over three decades. He is a senior member of ‘Vrindavan Today’s editorial board’.
