The Maha Kumbh is a unique world, where faith flows through sacred rivers and the air vibrates with the chants of sadhus and aartis. Amidst the silent prayers of lakhs of devotees, the Sangam Snan transcends ritual, becoming a timeless act of devotion that connects generations. The Kumbh is meant to be an experience that clears away worldly burdens. At the Kumbh, devotion has no barriers—no class, no caste, no boundaries. But did we, in some way, steal this magic from Monalisa?
Monalisa came to the Maha Kumbh as a devotee, seeking peace, but overnight became an unwitting sensation. Not because of her faith, but due to a viral fame she never sought. A few YouTubers shared her photos, and suddenly, crowds flooded the scene, eager to see her, not as a devotee, but as an attraction. What began as fascination soon became an obsession. People chased her, shoving their phones in her face for selfies, showing no regard for her personal space or her discomfort. She even expressed feeling unsafe and recounted an incident where she had to snatch a man’s phone and drop it when he kept chasing her. To her dismay, men approached her, falsely claiming her father had sent them to fetch her. Terrified, Monalisa’s father had to send her home, cutting her pilgrimage short for her safety.
Monalisa wasn’t alone in facing this uncomfortable reality at the Kumbh. Another influencer, a woman seen participating in pujas alongside sadhus, found herself in a similar situation. Although she identified as a sadhvi, rather than focusing on her devotion, people were fixated on her beauty. The attention became disturbing when old videos of her were shared, twisting her narrative and turning her into a target of harassment. Eventually, like Monalisa, she had to leave the Kumbh for her safety.
What does this say about society? In a place of religious devotion, is a woman merely existing in public a reason for men to objectify her, turning admiration into harassment? Can a woman participate in faith without becoming the subject of objectification?
One can’t help but wonder: if there had been no cameras to capture every moment, would these women have been able to fully experience the true essence of the Kumbh? Would Monalisa have stood by the river, whispering her prayer, instead of shielding herself from prying eyes? Would the sadhvi have continued her journey without fear?
The Kumbh is meant to be felt, not captured by cameras. Everyone has the right to walk freely and immerse themselves in the grandness of the Maha Kumbh, as it was intended to be. For these women, what should have been a space for devotion, reflection, and spiritual growth became a place of fear. And that should be troubling for us all.
