Dikhyaa Mohanty 
The vast Tirumala-Tirupati temple complex is commonly associated with the laddu. It is difficult to fathom visiting the hill without having to wait in line at some time to acquire a laddu. These days, one of the most widespread activities in Hinduism is probably the offering and ingestion of such prasadam, which is said to represent both human devotion and heavenly grace.
But there were some intriguing side trips in the development of prasadam in Tirupati: rivalry between sects, conflicts between Hindu kings, and changing trade. Through this process, Tirupati’s prasadam changed from being a straightforward gruel of rice and ghee to a savory pongal served with vegetable curries and, at the end, a sweet, dense laddu.
The origins of Tirumala-Tirupati
The Venkata hill has served as a marker for the boundary between the Tamil and Telugu cultural zones for at least the past 2,000 years. The hill has a long history, but it wasn’t until the ninth or tenth century CE that Vishnu revered it as Venkateswara, or “Lord of Venkata.” The god was first mentioned in reference to Tiruchanur, a settlement at the base of the mist-wreathed hill in modern-day Tirupati that was formerly controlled by Brahmins. The sole gifts presented to Venkateswara were lamps filled with strong-smelling sheep ghee and ablutions with water.
However, things began to change with the rise of Chola power further south, in the Kaveri floodplain. From the 11th century, the Cholas unleashed conquests across southern India and lavished Tamil temples with captured war loot, leading to innovations in ritual practices: the procession of bronze idols, the institution of calendrical festivals. The dynasty’s imperial temples, named after their kings, were the prime beneficiaries, but existing local shrines also received a cut, often from local notables or military officers who worked for the Cholas. Tirumala was no exception. By the early 11th century, temple inscriptions first mentioned its processional bronzes and a ritual calendar of just seven days. So, how did the temple grow to its current status, with offerings and rituals and processions year-round?
The decline of Chola power in the 12th century is interesting because it coincided with a period of lavish donations to local shrines by a wealthy class of landlords who were undermining the Chola state. Gradually, Venkateswara acquired lands in various villages and a modest treasury of gold and jewels, and he started to receive offerings of rice, ghee, and curd. As money flowed, innovative religious movements like the Sri Vaishnava order opened temple activities to new groups of people. Tirumala was particularly successful for Sri Vaishnava Brahmins who moved there and formed an alliance with a clan of shepherds turned warlords known as the Yadava-rayar (these Yadavas should not be confused with the Yadavs of North India).
Venkateswara was showered with fresh offerings from the Yadava-rayars, including sugar, turmeric, betel, vegetable sambar, honey, and sandalwood. In Tirumala, they even constructed a palace where they exalted in their victories. Although Venkateswara’s shrine was prosperous by the 13th century, it was still small by Tamil standards. However, Tirumala’s fortunes will soon be drastically altered by a major geopolitical shift.
The origins of today’s prasadam
The main donor to Tirumala was the Vijayanagara court, but it wasn’t the only one; in fact, the temple’s officials, who were primarily Brahmins, thought it was a good place to invest and gave both land and gold. In the 1500s, various accountants, vendors, officers, and scholars gave the temple gifts and investments totaling forty-three percent of its 115 villages, which were managed by the temple treasury office, the Sri-Bhandaram.
Interestingly, though, pilgrims received very little of this at no cost. Instead, Brahmins and temple sponsors received the majority of prasadam, according to Tirumala historian Dr. Thimmappa Valmiki. Following the benefactors’ passing, the food was donated to a number of Sri Vaishnava organizations. Donors have occasionally gotten authorization from the temple to charge pilgrims for prasadam. This might have been the start of the pilgrim prasadam custom in Tirumala.
Not all of Tirumala’s prominence was lost when the Vijayanagara dynasty came to an end in the 17th century. It was still a prominent political center, but it was still visited by pilgrims. By taxing them, a number of early modern Nawabs made money. Only until the 20th century, when Tirumala was ruled by the British, did a significant influx of pilgrims from North India lead to the god’s naming (Balaji) and the introduction of the laddu-making custom.
Laddus took over as Venkateswara’s main prasadam in the 1940s. In the last week, this supremacy has caused a great deal of controversy. Owing to rumors that Tirumala laddus were prepared using animal fat, certain politicians have declared this to be a “stain on the Hindu race,” causing fury on social media.
However, Venkateswara’s prasadam goes well beyond only laddu. It provides insight into the centuries-long cultural and religious development of South India and demonstrates how the development of the Tirumala site was influenced by the interaction of Brahmin traditions and imperial objectives. Tirumala was an elite endeavor when it initially gained prominence, which explains its emphasis on ceremonial purity. However, in the centuries that have passed, its popularity has expanded to include various societal groups, a wide range of devotee types, ethnicities, and dietary preferences.
The purported prasadam scam’s emphasis on ceremonial purity is a political ploy that plays on emotions under the pretext of an alleged insult to the god. However, Tirumala’s past extends beyond naive communalism.
