This incident happened about ten years ago.
I visited the Lord Venkateswara Temple in Tirumala with my family. After the darshan, I went to the laddu counter to collect our laddus. Those were the days when there was a limit on the number of laddus each pilgrim could receive. Depending on the type of darshan, each person would get two laddus or so. The laddus also had to be collected within the specified time mentioned on the darshan ticket.
While I was at the counter, I noticed a woman, probably in her sixties, pleading with the employee. I learned that she had reached the counter after the allotted time to collect her laddus. The employee was firm. He explained that once the time had lapsed, there was no way he could issue her quota of laddus.
Seeing her disappointment, I offered her one of my laddus. She was extremely grateful. Another pilgrim standing next to me noticed this and offered her one more. Her joy was boundless. She thanked us profusely before leaving.
About 20 minutes later, as I was returning to my room, I happened to see the same woman with a group of 12 people. I greeted her, and we got talking. I learned that they were all from Punjab and that it was their first visit to Tirumala. They were unfamiliar with many of the rules and procedures administered by TTD, which explained why they had missed the time to collect their laddus.
It was then I realized that the two laddus we had given her would hardly be enough for a group of 12 people. So I offered her one more.
She politely declined and said,“No, beta. This is Bhagavan ki prasad. Thodi si matra bhi chalegi (son, this is the Lord’s prasadam. Even a small quantity is enough.)”
Her words made me pause.
Two laddus were clearly not enough for twelve people. That was precisely why I had tried to give her another. Yet here was a woman who seemed completely content with whatever little she had received. She was not looking at the laddu as something to be measured by quantity. To her, it was the “divine prasadam.”
We live in a world where “more” often feels synonymous with “better.” We accumulate more than we need, yet we continue to feel that we don’t have enough. Even when we receive something special, our instinct is usually to ask for more, rather than appreciate what we already have.
But that day, in a small exchange outside the temple, I was reminded of a simple truth: contentment is not always about having enough. Sometimes, it is about knowing that what we have is enough.
Perhaps that is what prasadam teaches us. It is not its size or quantity that makes it special; it’s the gratitude with which we receive it. I offered her a laddu thinking she needed more. She declined it and, without intending to, taught me a lesson on contentment.
And even after all these years, whenever I see us craving more, asking for more, buying more, accumulating more (whether it is food, clothes, gadgets, or things we may barely need), I remember that woman and her simple words: “Thodi si matra bhi chalegi.”
Perhaps the question is not how much more we can have, but how much less we can be content with. Because sometimes, having less is not a sign that we have missed out; it’s the quiet realization that we already have enough.
