Bats are rarely the object of human desire unless parents fall in love over deceased specimens. For Aditya Srinivasanulu, bats were never mysterious nocturnal creatures; they were part of family lore. Before becoming a bat biologist, the researcher, who studied in the UK, grew up with the well-known story of how his parents—renowned zoologists at Osmania University in Chelmala and Bhargavi Srinivasanulu—fell in love because of dead bats.
When they studied together in college, Bhargavi gave Chelmala a dead bat instead of roses; years later, Chelmala repeated the gesture by giving another dead bat on their wedding day. Fortunately, as Aditya jokes, he has no pressure to replicate this romantic gesture. Today, when Aditya is not occupied with academic work, he takes evening walks with bats across the vast green campus of Osmania University.
The location for these walks is a biodiverse woodland area where evening descends over a shrinking summer lake, and the sky begins to shimmer with movement. Aditya notes: "If you stand there and look up, the sky is filled with a swirling mass of bats." He compares it to "a swarm of mosquitoes above the lake—that dense. But these are bats." Most of the tiny fluttering figures are pipistrelles, one of the smallest bats in South Asia. Among the public favorites are flying foxes. Aditya affectionately calls them "big leather boys." These large fruit bats appear in dramatic groups at dusk, soaring overhead while participants stand along a walking path on a mound.
Sometimes they approach a group of only ten feet. "As long as people don't make sudden movements or flash a camera, there's no problem," he says. Myth-busting happens naturally. Bats are not blind or aggressive, and they do not wait to fly into human hair. Fruit bats actually have excellent vision and exceptional sense of smell. Families, seniors, students, and curious residents from all over Hyderabad come to these events. Aditya emphasizes: "Honestly, children are always the main attraction." The team hands out small plush bat toys, and he watches as reluctant children suddenly become completely fascinated. "Children ask the smartest questions. Once a child asked if bats use sound to know where to go, and how they think so fast?" Srinivasanulu recalls being momentarily stunned by the question. "Everything that makes noise at night is immediately associated with witchcraft, bad omens, or danger. Animals like bats, owls, and snakes are burdened with stigma and misinformation," says the 28-year-old representative of the famous bat family from Hyderabad; he is now developing brochures and leaflets about the city's bat diversity, intended for everyone from four-year-olds to researchers.
Bat researchers across India are starting to trade lab coats for headlamps, leading groups of curious observers through darkening parks and ruins, handing out ultrasonic detectors like precious telescopes to catch bat sounds and transform them into a crackling chorus of clicks and static bursts. For most participants, it is the first time they are not just seeing a bat, but truly hearing it 'think' using echolocation. These researchers argue that bats are the unsung workers of the night shift. When birds finish their work at dusk, bats take over pollination of flowers, seed dispersal, and eating insects that would otherwise destroy crops. Nevertheless, in a country that is home to about 135 species of bats—roughly 10 percent of the global total—very few people study them. It is this imbalance that leads many researchers to say that public engagement is as important as any fieldwork.
Nikhil John, a naturalist from the WWF India Nature outreach program, notes: "One of the biggest problems is the lack of data or public participation when it comes to bats. Some scientists cannot track every colony or every park. But ordinary citizens can."
This idea prompted WWF India to conduct recent bat walks in Delhi, organized for International Bat Awareness Day in April. It also marked the launch of the first-of-its-kind foldable guide to bats in Delhi-NCR. It documents 12 of the 15 species registered in the region, including identification tips, habitats, and places where people can spot them throughout the city. The first walk at Sandur Nursery last month gathered about 65 people. The second day, a walk to Tughlaqabad Fort, combined natural history with architecture and storytelling.
Although birds have long dominated India's citizen science culture, bats have remained largely unnoticed. Bird lovers are everywhere. WhatsApp groups exchange photos from morning routes, enthusiasts upload observations to eBird, and entire communities form around identifying warblers and raptors. Bats, however, are heard but not documented; they are feared more than followed, due to myths about haunted houses and vampires. Conversationists hope these walks will be the starting point for a wider base of bat observers. John compares this to the rise of butterfly festivals, which turned an previously ignored insect into a community-led conservation movement. "Now we have volunteers and youth who do not have education in biodiversity or zoology, but they can talk about butterflies and lead walks." There is hope to replicate this energy for bats. "This year we are also trying to hold a three-day Bat Festival in Delhi."
For centuries, movement through Varanasi has been an integral part of the experience of being in this city. Its narrow streets, bustling bazaars, temples, and ghats form the basis of the identity of this spiritual center. However, since Varanasi is one of the oldest continuously inhabited cities in India and receives millions of pilgrims and tourists annually, these same streets have become one of the city's most serious infrastructure problems.
The stretch between Varanasi Cantonment railway station and Godowlia, which serves as the entrance to the Kashi Vishwanath temple and Dashashwamedh Ghat, often suffered from severe traffic congestion. During festivals or peak pilgrimage season, a journey of less than four kilometers could take 40 minutes or more.
Building wider roads was never considered a realistic solution because much of the corridor passes through densely populated areas and historical zones where large-scale demolition would be not only costly but also risky to change the age-old appearance of the city. Instead, policymakers focused on a vertical solution.
This year, Varanasi is expected to host the first urban public transport system using cable cars in India. This project promises to transport passengers and pilgrims over the city's congested streets in gondolas suspended at approximately 45–50 meters above the ground. Unlike cable cars familiar to tourists in mountain resorts, this system is being built as part of the city's everyday mass transit network.
According to officials, this will reduce travel time between Kant and Godowlia from 40–45 minutes by car to about 15 minutes, while simultaneously reducing the load on one of the city's busiest transport corridors. This project is also a global exception, as urban cable cars are rarely integrated into public transport anywhere in the world.
Indian officials have often described the project in Varanasi as one of the first globally to use cable car technology for mass urban travel, not just for tourism. In addition to providing faster passage for pilgrims to the Kashi Vishwanath temple, the project is seen as a test case for whether aerial mobility can solve transportation problems in densely populated Indian cities with rich heritage, where traditional infrastructure often faces serious space constraints.
If successful, this could influence similar projects planned in cities such as Guwahati, Shimla, Dehradun, and others, as part of a broader Central Government cable car expansion program. Thus, Varanasi is becoming more than just an infrastructure project; it could become a model for a new urban transport paradigm in India.
The Varanasi urban cable car is the first system in India designed primarily as a mass urban transit system, rather than a tourist attraction. The project is being implemented by National Highways Logistics Management Limited (NHLML), a wholly-owned subsidiary of the National Highways Authority of India (NHAI) under the Ministry of Road Transport and Highways. The cable transport technology was supplied by the Swiss cable car manufacturer Bartholet Maschinenbau AG.
Once operational, the cable car will connect Varanasi Cantonment railway station to Godowlia Chowk, one of the city's busiest intersections and a main access point for pilgrims visiting the Kashi Vishwanath temple. The corridor, spanning about 3.75–3.85 kilometers, will include stations in Kant, Vidyapeta, Rath Yatra, and Godowlia, linking the railway station with major commercial, residential, and religious centers.
The project was conceived after authorities concluded that expanding roads through the congested center of Varanasi would be extremely difficult due to dense urban development and heritage sites. Instead of competing for road space, the cable car will operate entirely above existing traffic, providing passengers with predictable travel times regardless of the congestion below.
According to government data, the system will utilize 148 modern gondola cabins, each designed to carry 10 passengers. Gondolas are expected to arrive every one and a half to two minutes, allowing the system to transport nearly 3000 passengers per hour in each direction, or about 6000 passengers per hour in total. Official estimates suggest the network could eventually serve up to 96,000 – 1 lakh passengers daily, depending on operating schedules and demand.
Passengers boarding at the Kant station can reach Godowlia in approximately 15–16 minutes, less than half the time often taken by car during peak hours. The Uttar Pradesh state government has also approved fares for passengers. The minimum ticket is set at 10 rupees, and a trip across the entire route from Kant to Godowlia will cost 50 rupees. Holders of the Kashi Smart Pass will receive a 20% discount, bringing the final cost down to 40 rupees. Premium gondolas for tourists and group bookings are also planned.
Stations are equipped with modern amenities for passengers, including elevators, escalators, video surveillance, a digital ticketing system, fire safety systems, and special infrastructure for the elderly and people with disabilities, positioning the cable car as a full-fledged public transport system, not just a tourist attraction.
The project, valued at over 800 crore rupees, including long-term operation and maintenance, has already undergone trial runs and is expected to begin commercial operation after receiving necessary approvals.
The Varanasi project is not an isolated experiment; it is part of a much larger Central Government strategy to introduce cable cars as an alternative mode of transport in locations where building traditional roads, metros, or railway corridors is too expensive, technically complex, or environmentally harmful. This vision was formed in 2022 with the launch of the Parvatmala Pariyojana, the National Cable Car Development Program, announced in the Union Budget. This scheme aims to develop cable cars in both mountainous regions and congested urban areas through public-private partnerships.
Traditionally in India, cable cars have been associated with tourist destinations such as Gulmarg, Auli, Mussoorie, or pilgrimage centers. However, according to the new policy, the government aims to make them part of the mainstream public transport. Officials argue that cable cars have several advantages over traditional infrastructure. They require significantly less land acquisition than roads or metros, as pylons occupy a relatively small area. Construction is also faster because tunneling, large viaducts, or extensive utility relocation is hardly required. Since the cabins run on electricity, cable cars also produce fewer emissions compared to regular road traffic, making them an attractive option for cities seeking to reduce congestion and pollution.
The city's historic center perfectly aligns with this philosophy. The urban core leaves virtually no room for road expansion without compromising heritage sites and densely populated areas. A metro line would require far greater costs and engineering difficulties. Planners argue that aerial cable cars offer a way to improve mobility while preserving the cultural fabric of the city.
Prime Minister Narendra Modi also emphasized this balance between tradition and technology when announcing the project. Sharing details of the cable car on social media in 2023, he called it an 'adbhut sangam' (wonderful confluence) of faith and technology, stating that it would not only make travel more convenient for devotees but also improve access to the Kashi Vishwanath temple.
The government now views cable cars as a solution that can complement, rather than replace, existing transport systems.
The idea may seem futuristic in India, but urban cable cars have been successfully operating in several countries worldwide for many years. The most famous example is La Paz, Bolivia, where the Mi Teleférico network has become one of the largest urban cable car systems in the world. With numerous interconnected lines running through the city and neighboring El Alto, it transports hundreds of thousands of passengers daily, overcoming the mountainous terrain that hinders traditional transport. Another frequently cited example is Mexico City, whose Cablebús system has transformed the journeys of residents living in densely populated hillside settlements. What once took over an hour by car can now be completed in much less time using aerial cabins integrated into the city's broader public transport network.
These examples have demonstrated that cable cars do not necessarily have to remain tourist attractions; they can function as reliable mass transit systems when integrated with buses, railways, and pedestrian infrastructure. Varanasi is now attempting to replicate these successes.
Unlike metro systems that require passengers to travel underground or on elevated fixed corridors, cable cars can fly directly over existing construction, reducing construction difficulties and completely eliminating traffic jams. The continuous movement of the gondolas also means passengers spend less time waiting compared to conventional bus services.
However, experts warn that cable cars are not a universal solution. Their passenger capacity is significantly lower than that of metro systems, making them suitable only for specific corridors, not for serving an entire city. Weather conditions, periodic maintenance, and evacuation protocols also require careful planning. Unlike buses, subsequent route expansion is neither simple nor inexpensive.
Therefore, transport planners view cable cars as a niche solution—best suited for historic cities, mountainous regions, or heavily congested corridors where traditional transport networks are difficult to expand.
Whether Varanasi becomes a model for other Indian cities is perhaps the biggest question surrounding the project. If the cable car successfully reduces congestion, attracts regular passengers, and smoothly integrates with the city's existing transport network, it could become a blueprint for similar projects elsewhere. The center has already identified several cable car proposals nationwide under the Parvatmala program, especially in Himalayan states and pilgrimage sites. Cities facing significant geographical or heritage constraints are also exploring whether aerial mobility can supplement existing infrastructure.
But the success of the cable car in Varanasi will ultimately depend on much more than engineering. Passengers must find it accessible enough for regular use. Stations must have seamless connections with railway stations, buses, auto-rickshaws, and pedestrian routes. Safety standards, maintenance schedules, and operational reliability will determine whether passengers choose the cable car over traditional ground transport. Passenger flow is also crucial. Unlike tourist cable cars that show seasonal demand, a public transport system must attract constant daily riders—office workers, students, residents, and pilgrims—to remain financially viable in the long term. There is also the question of whether cable cars can truly alleviate congestion or merely shift it from roads to stations with inadequate passenger flow management. These are precisely the questions that transport planners and policymakers across India will be watching after commercial operation begins.
In a broader perspective, the history of urban transport in India has traditionally revolved around roads, flyovers, suburban railways, and metro systems. Cable cars rarely feature in discussions of daily commutes. Varanasi may change this by attempting to transport passengers over one of the country's oldest and busiest cities.
[ ]Ahead of the Day of Marine Protected Areas, observed worldwide on August 1st, two divers from Cape Town, Rettaah Curryem and Amin Grey, use freediving, photography, and direct immersion to demonstrate the beauty and fragility of the city's marine life.
They aim to raise awareness about Cape Town's marine protected areas by presenting the city from a new, different perspective. Freediver Rettaah Curryem emphasized that 'Nature is always the main character' and that people do not exist separately from nature but are part of it, which they try to show through their photos and experience.
Curryem, who has been freediving for a year and a half and holds the appropriate qualification, knows the coast well and dives 'as often as possible.' His love for the ocean began in childhood through surfing and snorkeling, but freediving allowed him to develop a deeper respect for the sea.
He noted that the only way to feel comfortable in the ocean is to let go of control, and there is a life lesson in that; to protect something, you must first understand it. Grey added that the ocean is very changeable, and small changes can have a significant impact on the ecosystem, and consequently, on people. He believes that understanding the ocean and our place in it makes even a single piece of trash significant.
Despite Curryem having difficulty choosing a favorite diving spot in Cape Town, he noted that various shipwrecks along the coast are always a pleasant bonus. He described the amazing sight of a human artifact, destroyed by the ocean, turning into a habitat for life, saying, 'The ocean takes it back. It's a full circle.'
For Amin Grey, the start of diving was different: he began diving at the start of the Covid pandemic, and it was diving that awakened his love for the ocean after seeing the beauty of the underwater world. He called his first dive in the A-Frame area of False Bay a 'huge milestone' and 'extremely liberating.'
Both divers recently founded the adventure company Grava, which offers personalized experiences around Cape Town based on diving and mindful interaction with nature. They noted that the underwater beauty is surreal, and for them, diving is comparable to visiting a mosque.
