OG Tirupati - The Real Travel Experience

It all started suddenly. We were debating where to go for our winter vacation. Rameshwaram, Pazhani, Coorg, Ooty… Every place was either booked or it was too late to plan. We did not want to waste our vacation, so we took polls, weighed pros and cons, made decisions and unmade them. Nothing felt final until the last day when Tirupati entered the conversation.At first, it seemed impossible. Tirupati would be crowded, especially since it was the Sabarimala pilgrimage season, and it was far. I was hesitant because my last visit to Tirupati had been difficult. The crowds, the heat, the metal cages, and the long waits had made the darshan feel fleeting. Yet, somehow, we all agreed. I thought someone would cancel at the last minute, but perhaps the Lord had already set His eyes on us, because that very night we began our nine-hour drive towards Him. We arrived in the morning, and it felt as if all of India had decided to come that day. I convinced myself that we would wait, get darshan, and leave.Then came the next dilemma. There were no tickets available. Free darshan meant either waiting in cages for eighteen hours or taking the walking path, which would take three to four hours. The walking route carried warnings for age and health conditions, and security repeatedly advised against it. That made the cage wait seem safer, but the next day, my father and brother had to work, leaving only one choice: the walking path. Two thousand steps lay ahead.My parents hesitated, worried about the warnings, their age, and the risk, but somehow, the Lord felt bigger than all of it. We began our walk. I believe my real journey started even before the steps, when we locked our phones in the car. It was the longest I had been without my phone in years, and the feeling was surreal. I did not feel refreshed or enlightened. I wanted to scroll, to check messages, wanting instant gratification. I felt restless.I looked around. I observed strangers, the diversity of people walking alongside us, all somehow chosen by the same Lord. I silently raced them, vibed to Suprabatham playing through speakers, drank water directly from taps. I watched people perform rituals, rubbing kumkum on the steps, kneeling throughout the climb, whispering prayers with every breath. I wondered what they were praying for and silently wished they would receive it because none of it looked easy.We reached His abode, thinking a few more hours would bring the darshan, but we were wrong. We joined the queue and moved forward, running, pushing, then halting. Hundreds of people were behind us, and thousands ahead. Panic set in as we realised we had unknowingly entered the twenty-four-hour queue. There was no going back..We waited, power-napped, complained, and slowly accepted our fate. As boredom settled, the Lord entertained us with small fights among devotees and dialogues we did not understand. The crowd moved more slowly than Bengaluru traffic. My restless mind searched for distractions, for escape. Then the gates opened. Ten hours had passed, and somewhere in that waiting, my mind had become quiet. I had realised a simple truth: we would not spend our lives here. We had come in, and we would go out. Looking back, we were already closer than those who had just started, and that thought gave me comfort.The last hour was chaotic. The crowd roughened, security tightened, and the shoving increased. Then I saw the golden temple gate shimmering in the dark night. Inside, it was smoky and dim, lit only by diyas. The crowd pressed from all sides, yet none of it mattered anymore. My heart only wanted to see what I had waited for. My eyes searched, my lips chanted Govinda with the crowd, and everything else stopped.And then I saw Him. For ten seconds, I smiled, refusing to blink. I absorbed everything like dry soil soaking in water. In that dark, smoky sanctum, He stood there, close yet distant. It felt as though He was seeing us too, waiting for us to realise something deep and important. Before thoughts could form, I was pushed out, back to reality.I felt light, as if something had been lifted off my shoulders. Not once did I regret the hours I had spent waiting for those ten seconds. I felt grateful, small, and humble, a speck of dust before the Lord. I would not call it happiness. The closest word is bliss, an emotion that cannot be explained, only felt.And perhaps that is what Tirupati teaches, not patience or devotion, but surrender. The Lord does not meet you when you arrive. He meets you when you finally stop resisting the wait. You do not get to choose when you see Him. He chooses when He will see you..Thank you, Lord, for letting me see You and for letting me re-live that moment while writing this. May these words lead the reader to the same experience, or to one even greater.

OG Tirupati - The Real Travel Experience

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