There is a temple town in the south of India where people gather by the few thousands.
Every single day.
The south of the subcontinent is famous for its places of worship, but not all Gods are created equal. Lord Venkateswara, a permanent resident of the seven hills of Tirumala-Tirupati, is a law unto himself.
Even for a self-proclaimed agnostic like myself, the temple and its surroundings hold a strange kind of sway, and not of the cult variety.
To put that into perspective, my only fond memory of a family temple visit is the Prasadam (offering) at the end of it.
Beyond the sweet jaggery rice or the brown, sour puliogare, my devotion does not extend far and wide.
It is rather surprising,then, that being in the presence of the Lord of Tirupati is a wholly different experience.
I have woken up at 3:30 AM, taken an abjectly cold shower in a hill town in winter, and stood in line for several hours, thoroughly losing myself in the atmosphere of this place.
I have, on occasion, forgotten just how long we’ve stood in line, singing songs with the other devotees and thoroughly surprising myself with the faith I seem to be able to place in this one idol.
What I’m really surprised by, though, is the ability and the willingness I, and thousands like me, demonstrate in the process of getting to the hilltop temple.
On foot.
That’s 3600 steps and 12 kms of walking. Up a hill.
To be fair, the trek is rather comfortable with leafy canopies, drinking water and the occasional monkey for company. But it’s not a test of endurance like most other hikes are- this one is simply a factor of perseverance.
Children as young as 4, and adults well beyond their prime take up this trek every day.
Our reasons are usually always the same. Walking up the hill is the simple, profound act of keeping a promise made to God himself.
You see, when we’re in trouble that’s beyond human comprehension, we pray to The Lord Of The Seven Hills, asking for deliverance.
“This is as far as I can go. Deliver me across the storm and I will walk up the hills to come see you.”
Those in truly desperate situations may take that promise several steps further- I have witnessed people climb the rather unforgiving climb on their knees, heads bowed in reverence for the God who saved them from a life of pain.
The process of Darshan (visitation) itself is rather noisy and abrupt. However, even when being thronged by the millions, the idol at Tirupati has the ability to fix its gaze on you, just for a moment.
And in that moment, your conversation with God is pure, complete and full of gratitude. I am yet to leave that particular Sanctum without tears in my eyes.
What’s also interesting is that unlike most other idols of Gods I’ve seen, the one at Tirupati is rather commanding at a height of eight feet, made taller by the crown.
Usually, most idols form the Abhaya Mudra or the Gesture of Reassurance with their hand. This one, though, points to its feet.
For the spiritually minded, the message is clear- surrender to a power that is greater than you, and you will find peace.
I have had the opportunity to visit Tirupati on several occasions- to mark both periods of celebration and those of desperation.
Every visit shows me that true faith and surrender transcend most boundaries, if not all of them.
We need to believe in a higher power because that’s the only way we ever give up control.
The experience of an agnostic crying in the presence of an idol makes me humble. It expands my horizons. It teaches me that people are allowed to believe in the stories that give them peace.
Stories give us solace, they give us something to count on.
They become a talisman, a gleaming testimony to the fact that we are made up of the storms we weather.
