It was a bright morning, and the divine hills of Tirumala were wrapped in mist and vibes of devotion. It was a special trip for our little daughter — just five years old and already on her second visit to seek the blessings of Lord Venkateswara. Her first darshan was as a tiny one-year-old, head tonsured and eyes blinking wide at a world she couldn’t yet make sense of. But this time, it was different.
Holding tightly to her grandfather’s hand and her tiny backpack bouncing with each step, she was brimming with curiosity. The long queue to the temple moved slowly, echoing with the sacred chant “Govinda... Govinda...”
Her grandfather and grandmother lovingly shared tales of the God, his greatness, his miracles — painting pictures so vivid that her little heart and big imagination believed every word.
As we got closer to the Lord Venkateswara, the inner sanctum, her father gently lifted her onto his shoulders so she could have a clear darshan. The golden aura, the glow of lamps, and the deep chants filled the air. I leaned close and softly whispered to her,
“dear cutie, pray to God... silently.”
What came next left me stunned.
In her soft but audible voice, filled with genuine surprise, she exclaimed:
“Here also the idol of God? Not the real-life God?”
Her words struck like a soft breeze in that divine space.
After the darshan was over, as we walked down the temple steps, I gently asked her what made her say that. With her bright eyes wide and honest, she replied:
“Amma, I thought there will be real Lord Venkateswara here. Because grandfather and grandmother told so many stories — and everyone was chanting with complete devotion ‘Govinda, Govinda’ with so much immersed themselves— I believed God would be really there… like alive.”
In that moment, I saw the purity of her imagination and the innocence of her devotion. For her, faith wasn’t just stories — it was magic she believed in, a truth her little heart held close.
--Devi BS
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