The Saint Who Climbed Bhooloka vaikuntam (the Holy hills) everyday
“Love never asks how far the journey is. It only asks whether the Beloved is waiting.”
Yesterday…
I stood before great Acharyas Swamy Periya Nambi , Swamy Māraṇēri Nambi.and Swamy Tirumala Nambi
I witnessed a friendship that dissolved every worldly distinction.
I saw an Āchārya who honoured devotion above birth…
and a disciple who joyfully accepted unbearable suffering to spare his Guru.
As I walked onward… the luminous path became steeper.
Ahead… I could see hills. Not earthly hills…yet strangely familiar.
My heart immediately whispered… the holy seven hills
“Śeṣhācala…”Neelachala · Garudachala· Anjanachala ·
Vrushabhachala Narayanachala· Venkatachala
The cool breeze suddenly carried a camphor fragrance I had known all my life.
Wild tulasī. Moist mountain earth. Temple flowers. Camphor smell all over .
And somewhere… the distant sound of devotees
“Govindā… Govindā…”
“Govindā… Govindā…”
“Govindā… Govindā…”
“Govindā… Govindā…”
At once… my entire being trembled.
How many times had these feet climbed those sacred hills?
Sometimes in youthful strength. Sometimes slowly with age.
Sometimes carrying vows. Sometimes carrying tears.
Sometimes carrying nothing…except His holy Name.
As those memories arose…
I saw a radiant elderly saint descending the celestial pathway.
His face shone with quiet simplicity. Across his shoulders rested two
Water pots suspended from a bamboo pole. Every drop inside them sparkled like liquid light.
He smiled. Not as one meeting a stranger.
But as one welcoming someone who had walked the same road many times.
I knew immediately.
This was our Śwamy Thirumalai Nambi. And how many occasions
I must have seeked his blessings at Tirumala in a small temple for darshan of Supreme Lord Venkateshwara.
I recollected those divine pastimes I shared with my children when Lord himself called Swamy Thirumala Nambi Grandpaa…
He gently placed the pots upon the ground.
His eyes reflected only affection. “My child…” he said softly,
“Did you enjoy climbing His hill?”
I could not answer. Tears answered for me.
How many thousands of devotees… for centuries…
have reached the Lord only because this great Acharyar first served Him?
Every single day… without complaint…
he climbed these sacred hills carrying water for the Lord’s Tirumañjanam.
Not once. Not occasionally. But every day. The hill never became smaller.
His love simply became greater.
As I gazed upon him…another flood of memories returned.
For almost four decades… the Lord had repeatedly called me to Tirumala.
Each ascent felt new. Each darśhana different.
Knowing about the great acharyas Swamy Ananthalwan , Sri Hathiraam baaba , Yogini Tarigonda Vegamambaa , Annamaya and many more seeking their grace to be always in the Lords service in all ways ….
By His unimaginable abundant mercy…I was blessed to witness HIM from
Suprabhāta Seva
Thomala Seva ,
Archana Seva ,
ArchanaAnathara Seva ,
Kalyanotsavam ,
Uunjal Seva ,
Arjitha Brahmotsavam ,
SahasraDeepalankara seva .
Vishesha Pooja ,
Astadala Pada Padmaradhana Seva ,
Sahasra kalasabhishekam,
Nijapada Darsanam
Thiruppavada Seva until Ekāntha Seva
Importantly to behold the sacred
Thirumanjanam /Abhiṣekam.( Vastralankarana Seva) twice
To stand before Him in silence while thousands waited behind.
To climb the ancient footpath again and again… never because my legs were strong…
But because my heart kept hearing His invitation.
Many thought I was travelling to Tirumala.
Today… I realized… He had always been calling me upward. Every step… was another lesson in surrender.
Swamy Thirumalai Nambi smiled knowingly.
“The Lord never measures how fast we climb,” he said.
“He treasures only whether we continue climbing.”
Those words pierced my heart. How many times had I thought,
“I have completed another pilgrimage.”
Now… standing beside this immortal Acharyar .. I understood.
No one ever completes a pilgrimage. The pilgrimage completes us.
Then another memory blossomed.
I remembered the countless devotees climbing beside me. Children joyfully chanting. Elderly pilgrims refusing to stop.
Unknown strangers offering water. Someone encouraging
another exhausted traveller. No one asked names.
No one asked status. Everyone shared only one destination.
The Holy Hills itself had been teaching equality.
Then Swamy Thirumalai Nambi turned back toward me.
“So many times… you climbed thinking you were seeking Him.
But every ascent was My Lord teaching your feet…
how to continue climbing even when the journey became difficult.”
I bowed low. How many unseen hands had guided every pilgrimage?
How many Āchāryas had silently shaped my life without my even realizing it?
Our revered Pūrvācāryas present Śwamy Thirumalai Nambi as the very embodiment of unceasing kainkaryam.
His daily service of carrying water for Lord Śrī Veṅkaṭeśwara became a living commentary on devotion.
Later, he instructed the young Swamy Rāmānuja in the sacred Rāmāyaṇa,
helping prepare the one who would become Jagadācārya for the entire world.
Looking back… I no longer remember the fatigue of climbing Tirumala.
I remember only His call. Every stone upon that sacred path…every chant of “Govindā”… every glimpse of Ānanda Nīlayam… was quietly preparing my soul for this Eternal Ascent.
Today… meeting Swamy Thirumalai Nambi…
I understand that every climb was itself an Āchārya’s lesson.
“The Lord does not ask how many hills we climbed. He asks how much love we carried while climbing.”
“Every step taken toward Tirumala becomes a step taken toward surrender.”
“A pilgrimage ends at the temple. An Āchārya’s teaching continues forever.”
Perhaps… the hills of Tirumala were never merely mountains.
Perhaps… they were classrooms. Every climb… every pause… every whispered “Govindā”…
“Every hill I climbed… Every darśhana I received…
Every ‘Govindā’ I cried… Had quietly been preparing me…
Śrī Maṇakkāl Nambi placed the greatest treasure into Swamy Āḷavandār’s hands. Not gold.
Not a kingdom. But the Lord reclining upon Ādiśeṣa.
Yet the river of compassion was only beginning to flow.
For the truths received from an Ācārya are not preserved merely by learning…
they are preserved by living them. Ahead…
I can already see two radiant souls walking together. One was born among the most learned.
The other among the most forgotten. Yet before their Ācārya…
there was no high. There was no low. Only love. Only surrender. Only service.
The entire path before me seems to pause… as though eternity itself wishes me to witness a friendship that changed the destiny of Śrī Vaiṣṇavism forever.
Tomorrow…
I shall walk beside Śrī Periya Nambi and Śrī Māraṇēri Nambi…
…and discover why the Lord Himself stopped His chariot before the house of His devotee.
“Knowledge may reveal the Lord…but love alone reveals the heart of an Ācārya. Tomorrow… I shall witness a friendship that erased every worldly distinction before the Lord.”
To be continued…
Śrīmate Rāmānujāya Namaḥ
Adiyen Ramanuja dasan
Pictures : Courtesy Google Images
