Ananthalvan was leaving the Hills for the south with Varadacharya and other Srivaishnavas. Hungry, he halted by a watercourse to eat food brought from Tirumala. The rice was swarming with ants.
He remembered Kulaśekhara Āḻvār’s prayer — to be born on the golden Hill as an insect, a fish, or a step in the garbhagṛha, only to keep darśan of the Lord. “It is not given to me to be born here,” he said. “I will not deprive these ants of that enviable distinction.” He returned, left the ants on the Hill, and started south the next day.