I’ve just returned from Tirupati and the trip solidified an idea that was already coming together in my mind. I will never go there again. I will never visit another temple that has any kind of VIP Darshans. Period.

Because we are privileged and my aunt is a ranking government officer, she was able to get us special tickets to a puja my mother wanted to attend. This same access allowed us to receive Darshan twenty minutes after the puja and leave the Temple complex entirely within a few hours of getting there. A lot of rupees and connections were used to make this all happen.

My very privileged experience, indeed the easiest trip to Triupati I’ve ever had, is in stark contrast to what most people have to go through. Certainly, those with enough money, even without government contacts, will be afforded similar treatment. Most of the temple’s visitors, if the three-kilometer Darshan line is any evidence, have to wait all day, if not days, for a glimpse of an avatar’s stone image. The glimpse is only that, and even if one’s hands are clasped in prayer the guards on duty will angrily shove you through the congested line and yell for you to keep moving. As if there is nothing to see.

There are many among the throngs of people who bare this inequality with awesome devotion, starting waves of “Govinda, Gooovinda” chants, or repeating the name more quietly. There are many who are irritated, angry, push and shove their way forward. I can understand both, revere the former but identify with the latter. Save the setting, nothing about Tirupati strikes me as godly; I have no desire to worship inequality.

I ask my Mom mildy, “So what is so special about Tirupati? Did something holy happen here?”
“I don’t know,” she smiles slightly embarrassed, “it’s just a popular place.”
I ask my aunt the same question, hoping more from her sincere desire to be there.
“I don’t really know what the story is. I’m not sure,” she replies with a confused face.

Horrible Temple practices are enough to make me angry, but the blind adherence to those practices, affirming them with money and time, by educated people makes me furious. What is godly about uncritical attendance of pujas repeated mechanically by disinterested priests?

A more generous narration would attend to the sincerity of my family’s devotion, the serenity gained from being at the Temple, and their belief that real blessings have been gained. But I find this to be too generous. Those benefits of faith are nowhere evident. Instead, those family members who are quick to anger, wear perpetually annoyed faces, carry themselves humbly or too proudly continue to do so even while performing their devotions. Nothing changes. I am often too critical of my family but my criticisms usually center on the same issue, blindness: of critical questions, of self-critique, of learning better methods to achieve a goal, etc. I can’t see why they don’t see.

On a final note I’d like to say, especially for those who may be googling, that The Golden Temple of Sripuram is a spiritual shithole. This gigantic waste of time, space, money, and energy is a tourist destination and nothing more. There is even a “deluxe hotel” next to the temple (note the lower case ‘t’) that is built to look like a temple itself. Their desire to suck the money out of you while giving you a godly excuse is bold enough, but that they succeed is appalling.

Built to anticipate massive numbers of visitors, the line to the actual place of Darshan is almost two kilometers long and traces a star shaped path along lush gardens, which must be quite expensive to maintain in the South Indian heat. Fortunately, there are also stalls selling milk biscuits and water to the devotees. More obnoxious still, numerous signs posted along the way offer “wisdom”. These are little more than “spiritual” platitudes about creating good karma, being kind to others, the necessity of devotion, etc. Pick up a book of proverbs or two from any “Eastern” spiritual tradition and you will receive the same lessons; that is apparently what the self-aggrandizing toolbag of guru did. There are pictures of “Amma,” the aforementioned guru, that literally have him crowned, holding weapons associated with the gods of Hindu cosmology, wearing garlands, and being bathed in milk (again, a tradition reserved for idols). Of all the fake spiritual teachers and leaders I’ve heard about in India, this idiot gets the “blatantly-hypocritical-asshole-who-gives-spirituality-a-bad-name award.” Congrats.

God is a practice. Even without the grand narratives of religion, of which I’m not a fan, one can believe in the divine potential of human beings, of their ability to perform godly behaviors. I am thinking of both great spiritual figures in human history and those minor deities in all our lives whose passion, patience, kindness, or equanimity, inspire us to be better, to practice being divine humans.