As I have recounted somewhere, my formative years were spent in listening to lots of songs daily – this intense musical immersion happened for at least six years. The movie theater across the road used to play songs before every show, starting with the devotional songs by Ghantasala. There was no radio at home but occasionally I would to listen to AIR station from Vijayawada across a neighbor’s house. I remember listening to Dr. Balamuralikrishna, Smt. Gopalaratnam, and other vocalists in the morning. Of course, I liked the lady vocalist’s rendition – particularly her sensitive touch with bhakti feeling; her recordings of Annamayya’s compositions are superb. This song exquisitely captures the urgency of a desperate call to the Lord of Seven Hills.
I do not know the author of this lyric. But it has been in circulation widely and the record has been played at events for many decades. The Lord of Seven Hills (we call him endearingly as “Venkanna (వెంకన్న) ” or “Peda Venkanna (పెద వెంకన్న)” is our favorite Lord in the family. Whenever mother made a pledge to the hilly Lord, she would fulfill her vows with utmost fidelity. Even in the midst of a heavy storm with flooded train tracks,
I made a road trip (via Markapuram and Kadapa) to Tirupati to keep father’s word. This song very delicately condenses the feelings of every devotee. It says: “We come to You with our meager savings (and limited energies) to honor our vows. You demand interest, even compound interest from us. But we are hapless people; we have no principal with us. You have to remove our troubles and help us.” Often we overestimate our value, worth, or possessions. Money, health, intelligence, or even family can all be lost in a moment. It could be due to events beyond our control. When we come face to face with life and some of its hard realities, then we realize our utter helplessness. This writer watched at least two terminal patients: One slowly slipping away due to consumption and another succumbing to cancer. Even with ample money, family, and name (prestige) there are times when one is tragically left (abandoned) in a hospital bed or bare hallway. Lucky are those who can recall and surrender to Lord Srinivasa. It is not easy to remember Him when the body is crippled and mind on the verge of losing all its faculties (memory, speech, thought, and imagination).
The Lord of Seven Hills does not need our monies or jewels. He gently instructs us to keep our word and follow at least one moral in life: “Be truthful”. The same message is conveyed repeatedly in the Satyanarayana (of Annavaram) Vrata story.
“You are the majestic steadfast Lord like a mountain. I come to You with high hopes. Give us Your firm support and rescue (protect) us.” Sri Balaji never failed His devotees. Once we reached the top without any prior arrangements. I was in the long queue muttering unpleasant words and hastily finding fault with the clerks at the counter. It was unbecoming of me to complain. Others too were there in the hot sun for hours waiting patiently. I hold no special claim on His grace. Yet, suddenly out of nowhere a gentleman came to us handing a “special quota slip” for a slot in a nice cottage. Srinivasa’s concern for the struggling devotee cannot be explained; you’ve to directly experience it and feel it inside (heart).
“You extend an assuring right hand. You are the Lord of protection and remover of fear. Please shower Your protection on us and (help us maneuver this life boat) show us this precious boat of birth - to cross the difficult currents of life.” Srinivasa’s left hand gestures us this: Seek the refuge of my feet and you do not have to worry about the deep waters of life. The Seven Hills, the surrounding towns and hamlets are very sacred to the faithful. Numerous poets, saints, and gurus treaded on these roads and wandered in the gardens here. I conclude with a very humble experience on these hills. On one of the visits I was thinking about the great composer Tallapaka Annamacharya. A flickering thought crossed my mind: “These roads, brick laden paths, and steps – they are holy. How can I move around with footwear here? Perhaps I should walk on the hill bare feet. But my feet are not as strong as before. Now I get planter warts.” That evening I lost my chappals while returning from dinner at Vengamamba! That night I felt exhilarated at the incident. Left to my own devices I would not have dared to walk with naked feet. Next twenty-four hours I was there on the Hill, limping and walking like a cat on a hot tin roof - remembering Sri Hari at every pebble at my bare feet. I felt so happy at Srinivasa’s intervention and grace. He let me fulfill a small wish. Copyright 2020 by the author
తరణి = boat
