Col Shiv Choudhary (Retd)
Perched atop a serene hill in the heart of Jammu, the Bawe Wali Mata Temple reverently known as Kalimata Mandir has stood for centuries as a beacon of devotion, offering sweeping views and a spiritual refuge for pilgrims from across the region. Its sacredness is deeply etched in the cultural and historical fabric of the area. Generations have journeyed to its doors seeking divine connection, peace, and a moment of transcendence. But that spiritual resonance is now being drowned by the noise of neglect, crowding, mismanagement and a lack of vision. What once echoed with prayers and chants now reverberates with the cries of mismanagement, overburdened infrastructure, and civic indifference. Despite drawing lakhs of devotees each month, the temple today is more a case study in collapse than a celebration of cultural continuity. What was once a space for reverence is now struggling to hold on to its own identity.
A significant transformation lies at the heart of the problem. The temple’s spiritual magnetism has been overshadowed by the growing allure of its langer, a free community meal service that, in its essence, is meant to represent compassion and equality. While feeding the hungry is a sacred duty in many faith traditions, here it has inadvertently become the central reason for many visits. The promise of a hot meal, especially for economically weaker sections, has now replaced the pursuit of spiritual fulfilment. Yet even this noble tradition has fallen into disrepair. Reports abound of unhygienic conditions, unclean utensils, poor food quality, missing supervision, and a glaring absence of any sanitation or safety protocols.
As footfall increases exponentially, the temple’s infrastructure and physical capacity has not kept pace. Initially built for a few hundred worshippers, it now struggles to contain the weekend and festival rush that easily runs into thousands. There is no crowd management in place, no designated entry or exit points, no organized volunteers to guide or assist, and no clear strategy for handling sudden surges. This logistical vacuum presents real dangers, including the very real risk of stampedes, medical needs or any other emergencies. A site meant for spiritual reflection is reduced to a test of patience and endurance, marked more by human congestion than divine tranquillity. Families are jostled, the elderly are pushed, and in the rush, reverence gets trampled underfoot.
Money, ironically, is not the issue, it’s the mystery of where it all goes that compounds the temple’s woes. Donations pour in daily, often generously, yet there is no system of issuing receipts, no periodic financial disclosures, and no visible auditing process.
Perhaps the most visible manifestation of this neglect is the abysmal state of sanitation. Despite the heavy daily influx of pilgrims, the temple offers no clean restroom facilities or safe lockers facilities. There are no RO water stations. Women, children, and the elderly are left without proper rest areas. The result is a deeply unpleasant, and at times dangerous, experience that disrespects the very notion of pilgrimage. When faith is forced to coexist with filth, when the devout must navigate trash-littered wet and highly slippery paths and foul smells, something sacred is undeniably lost. Hygiene is not a luxury, it is a basic expectation, especially at a place that welcomes lakhs every month.
Outside the temple, chaos continues. The unregulated presence of monkeys, aggressive in search of food, poses a risk, especially to small children and older visitors. Beggars, often persistent and occasionally confrontational, add to the discomfort. Meanwhile, unauthorized vendors have taken over approach roads and walkways and entry points, selling everything from snacks to souvenirs, contributing heavily to litter and clogging narrow paths. It is a complete free-for-all. There’s no zoning, no licensing, and no civic enforcement. The absence of any municipal or security presence turns what should be a serene religious site into a noisy, crowded marketplace riddled with risk and disorder. The lack of public traffic management, inadequate parking space and chaos are another scene to watch and wonder.
Beyond the temple walls, a vast stretch of land with breath taking views and cultural significance lies wasted. This land holds the potential to serve as an extension of the temple experience, spaces for meditation, clean food courts, designated parking, shaded sitting areas, landscaped gardens, and zones specifically designed for the elderly and children. With thoughtful planning, the surroundings could be transformed into one of the finest religious tourism models in the country. Instead, they are marked by plastic waste, makeshift stalls, and random encroachments. The disconnect between potential and reality is stark, indeed frustrating. Here lies not just land, but opportunity, squandered every single day.
The root of this systemic decay is leadership, or more accurately, the lack thereof. There is no known government-appointed board, and no centralized authority overseeing the temple’s daily functioning. Kitchen staff determine food quality, price control and check, there are no sanitation supervisors, and there is no crowd or dedicated temple owned security team. In a vacuum of structure, chaos becomes the default. What should be a place of spiritual order now mirrors the disorganization of a neglected street corner. The spiritual discipline that such a temple should symbolize has been replaced by an absence of accountability, transparency, direction, and dignity.
This is not an irreversible fate. Reform is not just desirable; it is urgently necessary. A formal Temple Management Board consisting of domain experts must be established, preferably under the aegis of the Jammu Tourism or Culture Department. This body should be equipped to take full charge of temple affairs, from financial audits and sanitation to food quality, infrastructure building up and crowd control. All donations must be digitized and made transparent to the public on weekly basis. The langer must function under strict hygiene standards with regular inspections and clear operating protocols. Sanitation infrastructure must be modernized, with trained staff, clean toilets, filtered water stations, and clearly designated rest zones for different age groups and genders.
The temple’s surroundings should be reimagined through an overall collaborative plan involving urban planners, civic bodies, and religious leaders. Proper zoning, regulated vendors, wildlife management, and emergency medical systems need to be integrated into a comprehensive blueprint for transformation. This vision isn’t just about improving logistics or optics; it’s about restoring dignity to a space that is sacred to so many. Bawe Wali Mata Temple can and must serve as a model for how spiritual heritage and civic responsibility can coexist. The road to redemption begins with acknowledging the current decay and then having the collective will to fix it. Government agencies must act, civic bodies must engage, and the local community must come together in a spirit of shared contribution. Such actions will add to the attraction for the tourism.
The Bawe Wali Mata Temple still holds within its walls the power to inspire and uplift. But unless decisive action is taken, it risks becoming a history of astha, a tale of squandered potential and failed leadership. It is time for action over reflection. This temple must not be allowed to fall further into disorder and irrelevance. With structured reform and a renewed commitment to transparency and care, it can once again become a symbol of faith, dignity, and unity. The transformation from chaos to calm, and from neglect to reverence, is within reach. It is time to act before it’s too late.
(The writer is a motivational speaker and a social worker).
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