In 1994 I visited the Lord Venkateshwara Temple, one of the holiest sites in Hinduism. The temple is located on top of a hill high above the city of Tirupathi in India. The cool, lush location makes the visit memorable. I was seated along with other pilgrims in a group before being led into the sanctum sanctorum for the 3am Suprabatham Seva (”waking up the lord” prayer). It was a peaceful and transforming experience. Among other notable features of the temple is the massive idol bedecked in a dazzling coat of gold and diamonds. It is said to be the wealthiest temple in India.
In 2008 I returned with my wife and daughter for a darshan. This time, my visit was a nearly tramatic experience inducing (in me for the first time) claustrophobia. Though we purchased the Rs 200 cellar darshan tickets, we stood in line for at least one hour before slowly moving into the inner sanctum. Actually, one doesn’t move. The crowd moves you. Once past the security checks, including pat-downs and x-ray inspection (no cameras or cellphones admitted), the surging crowd pushes into the sanctum. There used to be separate male and female lines due to the close contact involved. No longer. One line filled with devotees of both sexes chanting “Govinda, Gooovindaaa” pushes into the sanctum sanctorum, and my family and I were pushed along slowly in the surge. One cannot see ahead. There is only the gold roof to look at while entering the sanctum. The line is controlled for the most part by high steel gates which don’t appear to have a quick release. I barely managed to suppress fears of entrapment. My daughter asked me if we were going to suffocate. I tried to reassure her the crowd was moving.
Just before we entered the innermost sanctum, a priest stepped out of a side gate in the barricade. My family and I took this opening and dashed out. The priest scolded us for not stepping in to the sanctorum for darshan. I informed him that we were claustrophobic and could not manage any further.
The experience was nothing like the Seva I remembered in 1994. Afterwards, I could only feel a sense of escape.
The next day we approached the temple from the Tirumala steps. This was an entirely different experience. There are 3,500 steps in all to the top, each coated with a fresh layer of pasupu and kunkum. There were many pilgrims who climbed with us, chanting as they went. Yet, there was no feeling of crowding as the steps, though covered with a roof, are open on both sides to the elements. The fellow pilgrims appeared to be happy and smiling. Entrance to the steps is free to all. We were enveloped in cool mist about half way up, and a light rain near the top.
One funny aspect of the steps is the tombstone shaped milestone markers. The first said “1/2″, which we took to mean 1/2 the way up. But as we climbed higher, subsequent markers said “1/4″, “2/4″, “2/2″! I don’t know what these markers mean. However, there are numbers every 100 steps or so that increase continually, reaching 3,500. The walk up is 7km long, including the steps and connecting paths.
It took us about 3 hours to reach the top. Our taxi driver, who dropped us off at the foot of the stairs, met us in the perfect spot, right where the stairs end before reaching the Vaikuntala queue complex.
Climbing the stairs is a real Tirumala seva, a pilgrimage whose journey is the reward.
