Yesterday…
I remembered standing before Śrī Viṣvaksena.
The great Commander of the Lord’s eternal realm welcomed me with compassion that words cannot describe.
As I continued walking along the Archirādi Mārga today…
another fragrance gently surrounded me.
Not sandalwood.
Not tulasī.
The delicate fragrance of fresh jasmine
“The Lord often answers one prayer by planting another. What we call fulfillment is sometimes only the beginning of a deeper longing.”
One memory lingered.
It carried the fragrance of jasmine… the melody of Tiruppāvai…
and the smile of a little girl who entered my life unexpectedly.
Soon…
I could hear familiar words floating through the luminous breeze.
For many years, one desire quietly rested in my heart. “Mārgaḻi tiṅgaḷ madi niṟainda nannāḷāl…”
During Mārgaḻi, we recited Śrī Āṇḍāḷ’s Tiruppāvai every morning by the dawn at temple and later in devotees houses
It was Tiruppāvai.
Immediately…
my heart knew.
Another precious memory had awakened.
Like countless devotees, I longed that Āṇḍāḷ should not remain only inside the temple.
She should lovingly visit all around the temple prakaram like the Lordships and may be every devotees home.
She should bless elderly devotees who could not come to the temple.
She should receive flowers from little children.
She should become the Daughter of our community.
When I discussed this with the temple authorities, there was hesitation.
The traditional pañcaloha utsava vigraha was beautiful, but heavy.
Taking Her every day through the temple and later into the streets…
lifting Her repeatedly.is always a bit challenging and bringing Her into homes…would be too difficult.
Some wondered whether it could be done at all.
But my heart refused to let go……
Surely the Divine Mother who walked through Śrīvilliputtūr for the sake of the
Lord would not mind walking among Her children once again.
Then…
the impossible quietly became possible.
Someone introduced me to a beautifully crafted papier-mâché Āṇḍāḷ during my Navaratree shopping
She was light enough to be lovingly carried from house to temple and then to houses of devotees .too
Yet when I first looked into Her eyes…
I forgot the material from which She was made…
I saw only Āṇḍāḷ….She came home.Not as an object.
Not as an ornament. But as our dearest Daughter…
From that day onward, every morning during Mārgaḻi, she travelled with us. First to Temple reciting Thiruppavai and circumbulating the temple amidst recitation of Vishnu Sahasranamam and Govinda naamavalli and then later to devotees houses as per pasurams devotees choose house after house… street after street… the sweet sound of “Mārgaḻi Tiṅgaḷ…” filled the dawn….
Children waited at their doors with flowers
Elders folded their hands with tears.
Many who had been unable to visit the temple in the earloy mornings felt that the temple itself had come to them…
Every day, as I gently carried Her, one feeling grew stronger…
I was no longer carrying Āṇḍāḷ.
A father was carrying his daughter
Every dawn of Mārgaḻi, after adorning her with fresh flowers, I would gently bring my face close to hers and softly recite each verse of Tiruppāvai into her tiny ears.
Not loudly……
Not as a ritual…
But as a father whispering timeless secrets to his beloved child.
Sometimes I would pause between the verses, with transcendental tears simply gazing into her gentle eyes.
Her little smile never changed…
Yet my heart always felt as though she was listening.
Whenever I looked at her…
I no longer saw paper and colour.
I saw innocence.
I saw surrender.
I saw the little girl who taught the world that loving Kṛṣṇa is life’s greatest purpose.
Then…
I would lovingly ask,
Child” Am I reciting it correctly Are you happy child ,, Please forgive this Appa if he offends you .
Days passed… The Margazhee month was coming to an end in a few days as we were planning Thirukalyanam in a grand manner to utsavar deities ..
Then one morning…
after the recitation…
I looked at Her innocent face..
A strange feeling arose within me.
It was so gentle that I almost ignored it.
Yet it would not leave.
one quiet morning… as I gently placed fresh jasmine before her…
a thought pierced my heart. I looked at her smiling face…
and suddenly felt something was missing. Very softly…
almost as though she herself were speaking…
my heart heard the words…
“Appa… where is My Kṛṣṇa?”
I stood frozen….
How had I never thought of this before?
It seemed as though those silent eyes were asking only one question….
“Appa… you have brought me home… but where is My Kṛṣṇa?”
I smiled.
Then I became silent.
How could Āṇḍāḷ remain without the Lord for whom she sang all thirty Tiruppāvai pāśurams?
The longing that had filled her heart in Śrīvilliputtūr had now quietly entered mine.
That evening… I stood before her again. With folded hands I whispered,
“Forgive me, my child ...
A father should have thought of this earlier.
I promise you….
I shall search until I find your Kṛṣṇa.”
I had no idea then……
that this promise would become one of the most emotional pilgrimages of my life..
The Āḻvārs teach us that Bhagavān first awakens longing, then fulfills it.
Āṇḍāḷ herself never desired ornaments or comfort.
Her only desire was Kṛṣṇa.
Sometimes the Lord places that same longing into a devotee’s heart—not through philosophy, but through divine love.
Looking back today, I smile.
I thought I had brought Āṇḍāḷ into our home.
In truth… …. . Āṇḍāḷ had entered my heart. And once she entered…
she gently began preparing me for another search. Not for a doll.
But for the Bridegroom she loved and each of us loved eternally..
“When Āṇḍāḷ enters a home, she does not ask for comfort. She asks only for Kṛṣṇa.”
“The Lord often begins His miracles by placing a holy longing inside an ordinary heart.”
How many desires in our lives truly belong to us?
And how many have quietly been planted by the Lord…so that we may one day discover Him??
My promise had been made……. Now the search began. Every temple street…
every pooja shop… every temple town… carried only one prayer.
“Little Āṇḍāḷ…wait a little longer.
Appa will surely bring your Kṛṣṇa home.” And for that Krishna only must help as it’s HIS Andaal and her prayer .Am just a small instrument in this divine leela.
Sometimes the greatest pilgrimage is not the one we make to the Lord…… but the one we make on behalf of someone who loves Him even more than we do.”
As I resumed my journey upon the radiant Archirādi Mārga…
that promise echoed through my heart.
Perhaps…
every promise made in love… is first heard by the Lord Himself.
Śrī Āṇḍāḷ teaches us that bhakti is not merely worship. It is longing that refuses to settle for anything less than the Lord Himself. True devotion slowly transforms every object, every song, every flower, and every day into a remembrance of Him.
Looking back now…
I realise that little Āṇḍāḷ did not merely come into our home.
She came to teach us how to wait…“The Lord often comes into our homes quietly… so that one day He may gently lead our hearts to His own.”
“The purest devotion begins not with scholarship… but with the innocent longing of a child.”
how to love…and how to long for Kṛṣṇa with the simplicity of a child.Perhaps…
every home becomes a little Vṛndāvana…
when someone within it begins waiting for Kṛṣṇa.
The promise has been made.
But where would I find Him?
The search would lead through countless shops…
endless online pages…
an unexpected stranger named Mary…
and a journey through the skies…
before little Kṛṣṇa finally came home.
Tomorrow…
A Promise That the Lord Himself Fulfilled.
“When a promise is made for the Lord’s sake… the Lord quietly begins keeping it long before we can.”
To be continued…
Adiyen Ramanuja dasan 🙏
Śrīmate Rāmānujāya Namaḥ
Pictures Courtesy Google images
Pictures Courtesy Google images
