After the long hours of waiting and anticipation in the famous queues of Tirumala, as the golden doors of the sanctum of Lord Venkateshwara come within view, a great surge of positive energy sweeps through the waiting devotees, suddenly and collectively. It is a gust of fresh air flooding the huddle of anxious minds, brushing away the debris of doubts Like a barely comprehended miracle, the aching feet, knees, necks and thoughts are replaced with incredible, overwhelming hope. "Govinda, Govinda!" exults the chorused chant, rising like a heavenward prayer. And heaven is so close at hand. At the entrance to the sanctum, 3-m high metal statues of Jaya and Vijaya, the dwarapalikas of Vaikuntha, stand eternal guard. They herald the moment, that most precious moment of darshan, which is somehow bestowed with timelessness in ispite of being terribly brief. The crush of the crowd is a rage now, seething and mindless. The queues have joined and all are not only equal, they are almost physically one. Your feet are not yours, your hands don't belong anymore. What is more, it doesn't matter. The mind has surrendered to the vision head. Lord Venkateshwara stands before us.

He towers, resplendent and absolute, in the sanctum lit dimly with oil lamps. He is exactly how you imagined him to be from the countless images that you have already seen. Later, you realise it was the aroma of camphor and burning oil, which lent such intimacy and immediacy to the life-size image of the lord. The diamonds glitter, the gold glows and the flowers paint striking finishing touches to the picture-come-to-life. Equally clear is the woman in the yellow sari, who was trying so hard to get a letter view by climbing upon whatever little elevation my feet afforded her.