The guides Hyderabad stopped looking for

Several people in Hyderabad who visited Golconda, Qutb Shahi Tombs or other heritage structures did so when they were kids, as part of annual school excursion. Guides who walked large groups of people through old corridors of heritage structures, explained details of intricate arches and other details, was how many have vivid memories of the places.

Guides used to be the first thing visitors looked for, not an afterthought. The structures are the same, but work is slipping away from tourist guides.

Replaced by screens

They knew where to find the best lac bangles, which biryani shop had a hidden crowd, and which parts of the city weren’t in any travel blog. The guides weren’t optional; they were how people started a tour.

The local guides are losing their ground for a host of reasons: history vlogs which people can watch at will and convenience, digital tools which churn out details in a span of few seconds, people seeking certainty booking everything in advance before stepping into a city.

Several guides in the city watched this shift happen up close. Mohammad Gaush is one among them. Every day, he finds his regular spot and waits, just as he’s done since 1975. In good years, he made ₹500 to ₹800 a day. Now, it’s ₹300 or less.

The guides at this and other structures are licensed by the Ministry of Tourism, trained, and regularly renewed to work at protected sites. According to Mr. Sudhakar, Marketing Executive at the Telangana Tourism Development Corporation, getting a license is not a simple process. “They go through a tourism management course, formal training, and in recent times, an interview as well,” he says.

 Abdul Kareem has had his license since 1989. He taught himself English and learned about the city in ways most visitors can only glimpse in a weekend. “Google gives you information,” he says. “But we make you live with that information.” Now, he’s one of the senior guides. Each year, there are fewer.

Earlier they came looking, now they come knowing

Until a few years ago, a few of the guides from the city used to scout for potential clients by waiting at toll plazas on highways. “Now people book everything online, hotels, guides and other services they need during their tour of the city. We lose out on clients before they enter the city,” said Mohd. Azgar Khan, one of the experienced guides who was forced to make the profession a side gig.

The tourists who walk past them aren’t indifferent. They’re just prepared differently. Meghna Rao, visiting Golconda from Bengaluru with her family, had already watched three YouTube videos about the fort before arriving. “I didn’t know guides were still available here,” she says. Lucas Müller, a traveller from Germany, had a similar answer. He used an audio guide app he had downloaded the night before. “I didn’t think I needed one,” he says. “The app had reviews, maps, history, everything felt covered already.” Neither of them felt they were missing anything. A guide just didn’t feel necessary anymore.

Over time, the profession gained a reputation it didn’t deserve. Accounts of touts overcharging, leading visitors to shops for commissions, or failing to keep promises became the usual image of a tourist guide. Even licensed guides who train and renew their credentials were seen the same way. Venkatesh Ganesh has been a guide for over 30 years and is a member of an association of about 150 registered guides in the city. Sudhakar confirms that the government no longer offers any salary or facilities to these guides. “Earlier, tourists came looking,” Venkatesh says. “Now they come ‘knowing’.” That knowledge is often less than it seems, but it’s enough for most.

When a profession became a side gig

Azgar Khan used to coordinate guides across heritage structures, assigning clients and keeping everyone busy. As tourists stopped seeking out guides, the community he had built around his work quietly fell apart. The guides didn’t really quit; they drifted away when the work wasn’t enough. Most started driving, and some left the city.

At the Qutub Shahi Tombs, Mohd. Javed Khan has spent 28 years in the same position his father held before him. He learned three languages and some French, earned a degree meant for another field, but stayed. “Our ancestors rest here,” he says. “I want to rest here too.” The tourists who find him now stay longer and leave with something unexpected. There are fewer of them, but they still come.

A walk for the curious, from tourists to students

Suresh, one of the guides at Charminar, said that schools from other States hire his services. He leads a heritage walk that is organised from 7:30 to 9:30 in mornings, beginning at Charminar and heading toward Chowmahalla Palace. Along the way, participants visit several spots such as Laad Bazaar, Mehboob Chowk, the Unani Hospital, and Purani Haveli. The walk ends with breakfast, and later in the day, there are evening snacks.

Most people who join the walk are interested in more than just the structure. They come for the culture, the stories, and the everyday life that exist alongside the historic buildings. The walk usually attracts both domestic and international tourists, and the number of participants changes each week, from as few as 10 to as many as 50 people.

The walk becomes especially popular in November and December, when schools from Hyderabad and other states such as Maharashtra and Jammu & Kashmir organize it as part of their educational trips. During this time, larger groups of students come to experience the old city in person.

The guides are still there

Each of these guides found their way to this work in different ways, through family, years of practice, or shrinking teams. What they share is simple. It’s a skill the city no longer seeks out. Gaush, still waiting at Golconda, sums it up. “If someone asks,” he says, “We tell them.”It’s the asking that’s different now.