A development dream linked to Ravana’s birthplace

The Prachin Shiv Mandir at Bisrakh village in Greater Noida.

A day before Vijayadashami, Lekh Raj, 45, a debutant vlogger, eager to go viral, stood outside a plastered but unpainted temple in Bisrakh, a village in Greater Noida, some 30 kilometres from Delhi.

He adjusted the phone on his selfie stick and rehearsed the script his teenage son had drafted. Around him, no festive crowds and no towering effigies were waiting to be set alight; none of the signs of celebration unfolding across much of the country.

In the Hindu mythological saga of the Ramayana, Vijayadashami (victory on the 10th day) is the day Lord Rama vanquished Ravana, the 10-headed demon-king of what is now Sri Lanka. The festival celebrates the triumph of good over evil.

Acharya Ashokanand, priest of the new temple in Bisrakh village.

“What you are seeing behind me is not just any village temple,” says Raj, speaking into his phone camera, turning it from his face to the entrance of the modest shrine called Prachin Shiv Mandir.

Behind him, an elderly priest, his matted locks tied around his head, is garlanding a figure of Ravana carved into the wall.

Raj continues speaking into his phone: “This temple has a legend more unusual than most. It is the birthplace of Ravana, the only place where the demon king is a son of the soil, and Dasara is not a festival.” He adds that the village derives its name from Ravana’s father, sage Vishrava.

Mahant Ramdas, priest of the Prachin Shiv Mandir in Bisrakh village.

For decades, Bisrakh had one temple, a swayambhu (self-born) Shiva shrine, which was known as Ravana’s birthplace. Then, in 2000, the Shree Mohan Divya Yog Mandir came up, barely 300 metres away and contested the claim.

For Raj and several other content creators on social media, this is gold. People have told him that beginning a video at the temple could bring him luck. The algorithm — hungry for online newness that could spiral upward into a trend — may grant him his wish to be famous.

Mahant Ramdas, caretaker of the original temple most villagers regard as Ravana’s birthplace, has expanded the shrine into a sprawling complex. Hailing from Kanpur Dehat in Uttar Pradesh, Ramdas claims to have seen the temple in a “divine dream” over four decades ago. He sought it out and found the place lying neglected in the forest, he says.

It now has three worship areas, residential quarters for 10 priests, a bathing space, a garden, and a large open ground for festival gatherings.

The road leading to the Shree Mohan Divya Yog temple, built in 2000.

He also managed to get huge land donations from villagers to construct another temple, in front of the existing one, dedicated to various goddesses.

He also governs another temple in Rajasthan, he claims, as his students travel across north India to perform Bhagwat Katha (reciting the holy book Bhagwat) and Rudrabhishek (a bathing ritual associated with Lord Shiva).

Pointing towards the dimly lit sanctum, Ramdas says that the Shivalinga inside is “taller than a mountain” and no one could dig its roots out. “When we tried to (during the reconstruction process), snakes started coming out from the earth. This work was stopped, and since then we have locked the basement of the sanctum,” he shares, further emphasising the ancientness of the temple.

The priest points towards a newly constructed section of the temple, where the bust of Ravana is placed side by side with Lord Rama.

“Nowhere in the world will you find Ravana being worshipped with Ram,” he says.

For Raj, this is precisely the kind of image that might attract travellers and pilgrims. As he pans his camera across the complex, he also captures boards bearing the names of donors.

He repeats several of the claims he hears from the priest and residents before pausing to ask Ramdas a question.

“How come Ravana, who was born to a sage in Greater Noida, became the king of Lanka, situated miles away?” he asks Ramdas. The priest offers Raj’s audience a legend.

Shree Mohan Divya Yog temple in Greater Noida.

“Parvati, Shiva’s wife, was adamant about having a palace of her own. Shiva commissioned the job to Vishwakarma, the divine architect, who crafted the breathtaking city of Lanka out of solid gold. To perform the house-warming, Vishrava, Ravana’s father, was called. Deeply pleased with Vishrava’s rituals, Shiva offered him anything he wanted,” Ramdas says. Driven by ambition, the sage asked for the golden city itself, he adds.

Shiva granted it, and that is how Lanka became the inherited realm of Vishrava’s lineage. It was first passed to Kubera, the god of wealth, before Ravana seized it from his half-brother and established his reign.

The Uttar Ramayana, which talks about the lives of Lord Rama and Sita after their return to Ayodhya, describes Ravana as the son of sage Vishrava and Kaikesi, the descendant of Pulastya, who is a mind-born son of Brahma. This claim is mentioned in mythological author Devdutt Pattanaik’s article titled: What is Ravana’s Surname? The article also mentions that the presence of Sal forests in his maternal region has led scholars to question the traditional belief that the early Ramayana’s geography extended far south of the Vindhya and Narmada rivers. Keen to boast of Ravana’s lineage, Ramdas adds, “Ravana was such a wise Brahmin that even Ram had performed penance and prayers after killing him.”

In the newly built temple, Acharya Ashokanand repeats the story of Ravana’s journey to Lanka, adding that it is this temple’s premises that he was born in.

Ashokanand identifies himself as Mahamandaleshwar, a title given to Hindu monks within the Dashanami tradition of Shaivite ascetics. Ashokanand, who usually wears trousers and T-shirts, changes into a saffron robe whenever a devotee arrives at the temple. He also says Bisrakh is mentioned in the Shiva Purana, one of the 18 puranas in the series of religious texts. He immediately opens a page in Kalyan, a book published by Gita Press, which mentions a river called Harnad, which he claims is today’s Hindon and describes Bisrakh as the birthplace of Ravana and his half-brother Kubera.

“I do not contest the ancientness of the Shivlinga in the other temple. It was the place where Ravana’s father used to worship. But my temple was his house. People don’t give birth in temples. They give birth in homes. So the place I own is Ravana’s real janmabhoomi (birthplace),” he says, while drawing a parallel to the Ram janmabhoomi in Ayodhya.

Here, a temple was built at the exact site where the idol of Ram Lalla was placed in 1949. Over the years, it led courts to first lock up the Babri Mosque structure, then allow Hindu worship inside, eventually turning that spot into the legal anchor of the dispute.

In his temple, spread across about 1,600 metres, statues of various Hindu gods, including Rama and Hanuman, stand. Ravana’s is absent. “In 2016, I was the first to propose the installation of a statue of Ravana in the temple. But the statue was vandalised by fringe groups that opposed it. At that time, Ramdas also objected. He said that Ravana could not be worshipped as he was a demonic figure. But later, he himself installed Ravana’s statue,” he alleges. He adds that he has now ordered a taller statue of Ravana, which will be ready in time for Vijayadashami next year.

Claiming that the Ramayana, written by Valmiki, has unnecessarily vilified Ravana, Ashokanand says that the demon-king never abducted Sita with the aim of making her his queen. “He abducted Sita to ensure his own sister Surpanakha was safe. He never touched Sita. She was kept with an all-woman army. He never met Sita in Lanka,” he claims. When asked about Ravana proposing to Sita in Valmiki’s Ramayana, he says it has many flaws.

Over 300 versions of the Ramayana exist globally, ranging from Valmiki’s Sanskrit foundational text to international adaptations like Thailand’s Ramakien. Sri Lanka uniquely preserves this legacy through its own cultural lens, honouring king Ravana as a heroic ruler.

Confused between the legacy claims of two temples situated within walking distance, Raj decides to speak to the residents of Bisrakh, which has a population of around 5,000 people, including Muslims.

In the village, signboards proudly advertise Raavan DJ, Raavan Kirana Store, and Raavan Hair Salon. Sonu, a student from the village, exaggerates for the reel, as he says, “Some villagers have even named their children after him”.

Dishondhi Saifi, 90, one of the village’s oldest residents, says he has not seen a Ramlila in Bisrakh ever in his lifetime. “Some people tried to organise the Ramlila performance, followed by the effigy burning of Ravana here, but young men died in the village mysteriously. After that, no one dared to celebrate Dasara,” he says.

Mr. Saifi’s claim is supported by Ajay Bhati, the last village head of Bisrakh before it became part of an urban civic body.

“Our village holds great religious importance. Despite Ravana abducting Sita, you cannot dispute his dedication to Shiva and his wisdom. I really feel that this place needs immediate attention from the government,” Mr. Bhati says, urging both the Central and Uttar Pradesh governments to include Bisrakh in the Ramayana circuit.

The Ramayana circuit is a religious tourism initiative developed by the Government of India to connect and upgrade the infrastructure of key cities associated with Lord Rama’s life.

“I have met the MP of our area [Mahesh Sharma], who was then an MoS (Minister of State) with the Ministry of Culture and Tourism, but he never paid heed to our requests,” he says, adding that the soil from Bisrakh was sent during the construction of the Ram temple in Ayodhya.

Bisrakh is not alone in honouring Ravana. He is also worshipped in Kanpur, Jodhpur, and Kakinada, where people celebrate his intellect and devotion to Shiva.

In Mandsaur, Madhya Pradesh, locals even revere Ravana as their son-in-law, believing it to be the hometown of his wife Mandodari.

Beyond the mythology and folklore lies a complex web of caste politics. Dominating the demographic landscape of Bisrakh are the Gujjars, a prominent agricultural community in western Uttar Pradesh. Many villagers believe that Brahmin-dominated socio-religious institutions have intentionally suppressed the village’s historic heritage. “We cannot deny that Brahmins claim all religious landmarks. Maybe this is the reason why a Gujjar-majority village never got its due,” Bhati says. He supports Ramdas’s temple as the original birthplace of Ravana.

Not everyone in Bisrakh is interested in choosing a side. Suman Devi, 64, visits the Shiva temple to offer prayers. She lights a diya before the Shivling as the smoke from incense curls through the courtyard. She does not visit the other temple, but believes, “Both temples are ours.”

Beyond the mythology and the rivalry, Bisrakh’s immediate concerns are more practical. Neighbouring areas in Greater Noida have transformed with glass-fronted office buildings and sprawling high-rise apartments, while Bisrakh still looks like a village with broken roads and homes where people cannot afford paint.

“People may disagree over which temple marks Ravana’s birthplace, but all of us want to put Bisrakh on the national pilgrimage map. The prospect of visitors brings the promise of better infrastructure and livelihoods, even if the scale of those benefits remains uncertain,” says Devi.

As Raj looks for one more detail to make his video stand out, he returns to the question that has animated his visit.

“We all know he died on Vijaydashmi. But when was he born?” he asks the priests.

Ramdas draws a blank, waving away the question. Ashokanand offers a vague reference to an ancient divine timeline which, he says, has not been recorded.

As twilight settles, Raj finishes editing his short video, adds a trending soundtrack, and puts it in drafts for a final review. He pulls on the shoes he had left outside the older temple.

On one wall, a hand-painted sign displays a phone number, inviting people of any religion to call and discuss whatever is troubling them.

Raj saves the number on his phone, seeing another possible angle for future content. Then he leaves Bisrakh’s dusty lanes behind.

Edited by Sunalini Mathew and Amarjot Kaur