This wasn’t the Sanskrit slokas everyone else recited. This was Virutham —a lyrical, free-flowing poetic outpouring, where meter gave way to raw devotion. In Telugu, the language of the masses, the Virutham painted Goddess Kamakshi not as a distant cosmic queen, but as a loving mother, a playful girl, and a fierce protector.
One evening, a young girl named Meena, who had recently moved from Hyderabad, lingered near the steps. She understood Telugu but had never heard a Virutham before. She heard Venkataraman chant: "Kamakshi! Kamakshi! Karunala vela? Nee pada padmamulake nenu johulu." (O Kamakshi! Are you not a mountain of compassion? I bow and offer my salutations to your lotus feet.)
He then explained the next lines: "Mungita ninnu, munigina vaadini Tenchu ra amma, nee vadalakura." (I have sunk in the ocean of life. O Mother, please pull me out and never let me go.)