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As Saptagiri Express nears the seven sacred hills, pilgrims stretch to look at the parade of temples fleeting by the windows. They prepare themselves for the altitude of piety as the train halts at Tirupati. Though we decided on this trip only last night, Ganesh has been planning it since his father was diagnosed with cancer.

Seven hills and a divine republic

Don Sebastian
2006-03-10 10:42:35

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the starry sky. We hopped over the steps and soon exhausted ourselves. As we sat panting, an old woman with a sack on her head climbed past us ceremoniously. She stepped over each slab unhurriedly, like reciting a prayer. We had just overtaken her in the first lap and would do that again soon.

The old woman never looked around or stopped. Many others were striving along the pilgrim's path. Some resting, some sleeping at the mandapams. We kept on climbing, in different paces, until we bumped into a milestone saying 8 km! Tired and frustrated, we knew that we cannot make it to the top. Calf, thigh, hip...I could feel every muscle in my body throbbing.

But we could not return. There were promises to keep and vanity to fulfil. The call of the peak was irresistable. Like tired old men, we resumed our journey to what we thought was the summit. The illuminated U-shaped Vaishnavite symbol (kuri), which seemed so close from the valley, once again became visible. As we covered each mandapam, the shining symbol grew in size.

Relieved, we crossed the grand entrance beneath the symbol. The pavement ends nowhere. It dissolves into the darkness. Vendors sleep in stalls on its sides. Three young men from Hyderabad explained that Kali Gopuram is only an entrance to the temple, another milestone. The temple is a few kilometres away, but the ascent is less demanding.

Our extended group traversed the remaining stretch, sometimes covered with mesh. This is tiger country. TTD officials in a jeep warned us not to walk alone or rest on the unprotected road. We thought we heard a growl. But all we could see was deer, protected from man. At the next mandapam, we decided to rest. I lie down and slept for an eternity of half an hour.

A bigger group hasten to their destination. We resumed our journey. Woods on either side and the silence pervading the darkness add to the mystic ambience. Travellers are in top gear knowing that they are approaching the end of the winding road. Sound of spirited feet and the vehicles which came through another route. Light ahead.

Suddenly we are in a township. Petrol pump, bus stand, shopping complex, pilgrims' quarters...Venkatadri is no forest shrine. It is a huge temple complex which fortifies the deities. The menu displays the cost of visions. Proximity to the god costs you. But there is no dearth of the rich, who can't wait for the sacred hour of darshan.

The tireless old woman and the kid with the big sack too, were eager to this appointment. The men in charge lead us to a hall from where you can see the god free of cost. Almost everyone who travelled with us are bundled together until morning when the god finishes with the profitable appointments.

The old woman is patiently resting in a corner. But we can't wait for we have to catch the morning train back to Chennai. I felt sorry for Ganesh. But he looked at the golden dome above the god's abode and smiled. He knew his vow has been fulfilled. He might lie to his mother that he had had darshan: one of those true lies.