No discussion of South India is complete without mentioning the Tirupati temple and Lord Balaji. My first visit to this sacred place was around 1961 or 1962. Traveling to Tirupati was not as easy then as it is now, with trains, buses, and taxis readily available. 

In those days, there was no direct train from Chennai to Tirupati. We took a long-distance train to Renigunta and then transferred to a shared tempo, packed with other passengers. It was late at night when we arrived in Tirupati, where we stayed in a simple choultry, sleeping on the floor with whatever we could find for pillows. 

The next morning, we queued for a bus to take us up the hills—a thrilling experience for my brother and me. The winding roads and steep U-turns kept us on the edge of our seats. Watching the drivers skillfully maneuver their buses added to the excitement. Some passengers struggled with motion sickness, making the journey even more eventful. 

In those days, people often saved a portion of their salaries for trips to Tirupati. It was believed that you couldn’t plan such a pilgrimage—it had to happen when the Lord called. Whatever money remained after the trip was offered to the temple’s Hundi as a gesture of gratitude. 

Upon reaching the top, we found that the temple was not crowded. Unlike today’s maze-like queues, we could enter the temple with minimal waiting. There were fewer than 100 devotees present—something unimaginable now. 

Monkeys roamed freely, often snatching food and belongings from unsuspecting visitors. I was terrified they’d grab my glasses, but local handlers were quick to retrieve stolen items—for a fee, of course. 

Was the temple crowded inside?

Contd. 365. Steps to the Sanctorum - Part 2