For nearly 2,000 years, Lohagad Fort has stood as a symbol of the Sahyadris' rich history and heritage. Today, however, the ancient hill fortress finds itself in the headlines for a far more unexpected reason. In the weeks following the murder of 26-year-old realtor Ketan Agarwal, Lohagad has reportedly recorded a 25% surge in visitors, raising questions about what is drawing people to the fort and what may be getting lost in the process.
Ketan Agarwal died after falling from a cliff at Lohagad Fort on 18 June. What was initially treated as an accident has since turned into a murder investigation, with police alleging that his fiancée, Siya Goyal, and her alleged lover, Chetan Chaudhary, conspired to push him off the fort.
Since then, the exact ledge has reportedly become a point of curiosity, with some visitors referring to it as the "Siya spot" and taking photographs there. The renewed attention has also revived demands from locals and trekking groups for railings and CCTV cameras at vulnerable points on the fort.
What risks being overshadowed in the rush to visit the crime scene is Lohagad's remarkable history, which stretches back nearly two millennia. Considered one of western India's oldest strategic forts, Lohagad has witnessed the rise and fall of several dynasties, including the Satavahanas, Chalukyas, Rashtrakutas, Yadavas, Bahamanis, Mughals and Marathas.
Lohagad's most celebrated chapter belongs to Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj, who captured the fort in 1648 because of its strategic importance. Although it was ceded to the Mughals under the Treaty of Purandar in 1665, Shivaji recaptured it in 1670 and used it as a treasury to store wealth from his famous Surat campaign, turning the fort into both a military and financial stronghold of the Maratha Empire.
The fort's military heritage is still visible in its architecture and landscape. Its layered defence system, panoramic views and unique natural formations have made Lohagad one of Maharashtra's most popular trekking destinations for decades.
Historic gateways: Ganesh Darwaja, Narayan Darwaja, Hanuman Darwaja and Maha Darwaja, all designed as defensive checkpoints.
Vinchukada (Scorpion's Tail): A 1.5-kilometre-long fortified ridge that once served as a watchpost and remains the fort's most photographed feature.
Altitude: Situated 1,033 metres above sea level.
Location: Overlooks the scenic Pavana reservoir in the Western Ghats.
Tourism appeal: A favourite among trekkers, especially during the monsoon, when the fort is enveloped in mist and clouds.
Lohagad's association with mystery is not new. The fort has long been surrounded by ghost stories and local legends, including an unverified tale of human sacrifice linked to the construction of the Ganesh Darwaja. Historians, however, say there is no evidence of any supernatural activity, and the fort poses no danger beyond normal trekking risks.
Expanded between the 10th and 14th centuries, Lohagad passed through the hands of several rulers before eventually coming under British control and surviving today as an important heritage site.
Even now, centuries after it first rose to prominence, Lohagad Fort remains more than just a scenic spot, a place where history feels close at hand, quietly reminding visitors of the many lives, battles and moments that have shaped it over time. The question now is whether that history can reclaim its place in the public imagination once the case fades from headlines, or whether the fort's centuries of military and cultural significance will remain, for a generation of visitors, secondary to a single tragic afternoon in June 2026.
None of Lohagad's history requires embellishment, yet the fort has long competed with its own folklore, from unverified legends of human sacrifice to tales of hauntings with no documented basis. That it is now also competing with a true-crime narrative says less about the fort than about the stories the public is drawn to.
The question is not whether people should visit Lohagad, but whether they will leave remembering its 2,000 years of history or a single tragic afternoon. Heritage does not get to choose how it is remembered. People do.
