Only if He looked at us once...

JS Raghavan 

To many devout Hindus, few gods have a more magnetic pull of divinity than Tirupathi Balaji. The essence of the Tamil proverb — If you drop a grain of ellu (sesame) in the crowd, it will land as a droplet of til oil on the ground — will more meet the case of describing the crowd density at the sacred seven hills than probably elsewhere.

One primary reason for such congregation may be due to the preference of multi-darshan through different seva as the electrifying form of the majestic, awe-inspiring, head-to-foot bedecked Balaji is as satiation-free as the temple’s laddoo prasad. One may get pummelled, pushed and badgered by the milling crowd that formed an orderly line until let loose near the sanctum sanctorum where devotees would scatter like berries poured out from a gunny bag. So, it is in the fitness of things for an ardent devotee not to be satisfied by the few seconds available for communion with the deity, while being pulled and pushed by the temple staff with the infamous regimental command — ‘jarugandi, jarugandi’ (move on, move on).

As I was inching along in the serpentine queue that morning, a bare-chested devotee in a silk dhoti draped in Andhra style drew my attention with his freshly tonsured head. ‘Sir, this is my fourth entry into the sanctum sanctorum during this trip!’ he stated proudly. ‘I had ekanda seva last night, the suprabada seva (early morning ritual of the waking up of the Lord), thomala seva and now sahasranama archana.’

But was he not denying or delaying the opportunity to others who were standing for hours for a fleeting darshan once? But who am I to judge the personal choices of worship?

‘I have good contacts at the temple. So, I will have a number of laddoos and special prasad not made available to others,’ he said beaming proudly. Perhaps he was not aware that Lord Balaji — of one of the few richest temples in the world — is reportedly offered only curd-rice cooked in an earthen pot. I wanted to convey the allegory that many of the very rich may roll in wealth, but their health may not permit any fancy food, except the humble curd-rice or an insipid gruel. Furthermore, the Lord of Seven Hills had hardly two hours in the night to have forty winks!

This homily might go over his tonsured head. Instead, I told him, ‘One can have any number of darshan, but don’t you think, it is more important that He looks at us once? A mere side glance will do to liberate us from our tortures and tribulations.’

He squirmed nervously, sensing the complexity of the subject and ostensibly to adjudicate the matter to Balaji Himself, who was nearby, shouted ‘Govinda, Govinda, Govinda!’ with bespoke modulation and moved away from me markedly, managing to lose himself in the advancing multitude.