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02.03.25
I have always been annoyed and frustrated by the feeling of standing in a queue, waiting for just two seconds in front of the deity, and then being hurriedly ushered away. That’s why I usually avoid visiting famous temples to seek darshan. For some reason, I never felt a sense of mental or spiritual satisfaction in such moments. It’s not that I have never been to temples—I have visited many beautiful ones, understood their systems, and at times, spent such wonderful moments there that those memories remain fresh in my mind even today. Of course, there must be a special reason for reminiscing about all this today, and that’s why I am writing this.
The subject of Saundatti Yellamma is not new. So much has been written and said about her, her awareness, and the deep, unnamed devotion and faith people have in her that it’s no surprise one feels drawn to her. However, I had never planned to visit Yellamma. Then, yesterday at dawn—around four in the morning—when I woke up, the first thought that crossed my mind was: "We should visit Yellamma today on our way back." There must be a logical reason behind this, which may become clear in the coming days. But originally, our journey was to Ingaleshwar to meet Siddhamma. As soon as I got into the car, I asked, "Will Yellamma be on our way back?" Of course, the two places are far apart, and we had a six o’clock rehearsal. I gave up hope when I realized that it might take too long.
When we met Siddhamma, she said, "Go, meet the Mother. She will take care of you." Writing about Siddhamma will require a separate account, so I’ll move ahead. After getting back into the car, Mithun mentioned that it would take around three hours to reach and at least an hour for darshan—whether we’d get a proper view of the deity was uncertain. I had read a lot about Yellamma and knew that the entire temple complex was vast, her court grand. I told myself that if I could at least catch a glimpse of the temple tower, that would be enough. I said, "Let’s just enter Saundatti. Show me the temple from a distance, and I’ll be satisfied. But no matter what, we must reach Belgaum before six."
Mithun said, "It won’t all happen so easily, but let’s start the journey." Just then, Sanju said, "She will take care of it. Let’s go." I don’t know what magic Mithun worked, but instead of three hours, we reached Saundatti in about two and a half.
"Sir, before entering the temple, it is customary to wash one’s feet at Jogul Bhavi," Mithun mentioned. I had already made up my mind—I only wanted to see the temple tower, so I thought, "Let’s wash our feet and go in." We did just that.
As we reached the hill, Mithun said, "I’ll drop you off at the back entrance. If the queue is short, stand in line; otherwise, just take darshan from outside and return. I’ll wait here. Leave your slippers in the car."
What happened next is impossible to put into words, but I am making this futile attempt so that the experience doesn’t fade away.
As soon as we stepped outside, Sanju and I began running downhill. In that moment, I forgot that Sanju was with me—I was so determined that I ran with full force, and she must have followed with equal intensity. As per Mithun’s instructions, when I reached the speaker near the entrance, I saw a few cows resting near a doorway, making it impossible to enter. We were about to move ahead to check the queue when I told Sanju, "Ask inside the office." The staff checked their phone and said, "The door is open; the temple hasn’t closed yet."
Without thinking twice, we approached the doorway with the cows. If I had been alone, I probably wouldn’t have dared to go through, but Sanju showed me the way. I placed my footsteps where she did, and we entered.
We quickly bought two tickets for ₹100 each and rushed inside. After a couple of turns, we reached a temple doorway, where a constable said, "Come in quickly!"
We stepped inside, and there she was—the Mother herself.
For a continuous, uninterrupted four minutes, it was just me and her. The priest was changing the decorations, so all her jewelry, garlands, and flowers had been removed. Dressed in a grand saree, she stood before me, and we just looked at each other. It was only when a few more people arrived that the priest said, "Now you may leave." We hurried outside, and suddenly Sanju said, "Vaibhav, we got the darshan!" That’s when I came back to my senses.
Later, when we met Mithun, I immediately called Siddhamma and told her, "This happened because of you!" She replied, ""Seeing how happy you are, I feel as if the Mother herself has blessed me with her darshan."
As we got into the car, I narrated everything to Mithun, and he said, "Look, you only wanted to see the temple tower, but the Goddess herself called you in. To be honest, when you washed your feet at Jogul Bhavi, she had already opened the doors for you."
By the time we headed back toward Belgaum, it was five o’clock. Mithun got us there by 5:55, and within twenty minutes, I was already standing for my rehearsal.
What meaning should I derive from all of this?
How do I put this experience into words?
It may take me years to find out. That much is certain.
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