Sixteen women disassemble themselves almost every night. It goes like this:
Hair first.
Earlobes.
Eyebrows.
Eyelashes.
(Inhale please.)
Nose.
Lips: upper and then lower.
Teeth.
Breasts: right and then left.
Buttocks: the firmer first.
Hips: together, as a set.
Nails of the toes.
Nails of the fingers.
Sex (unhook with caution, only once a month).
And so on.
When they are done, they look as though they have been skinned alive. Each part they remove is returned to a designated place on the shelves, which are in between the statues of the gods, in the temple of women. They return each item to its niche meticulously. Each tooth and fingernail has an individual case lined with silk. Feet are placed on shoe racks. Arms and shoulders dangle off golden hangers. Eyes stare blankly from clear cases that in some other place might have been used for spectacles. Bared, the women walk with the sinuous looseness of snakes. They are unencumbered by the essentials they retain; the gorgeous organs of their transparent bodies quiver with life.
At the end of a river with no name, women built a temple to which only women are admitted. The stone palace on top of the small hill fills up the sky. God crowds this place in many forms; those of women – Saraswati, Lakshmi, Parvati – take the highest places. Around them, the important male gods, as well as the innumerable minutiae of a thousand minor village and household gods, line the altars and carved interiors. The ones everyone knows: KrishnaShivaVishnuGaneshaHanumanMuruganBrahmaRama.The ones no one knows. The women swathe the statues of the nava graha, the nine planets, in silk and gold, anoint them, and leave room for the customary orbits of worship. The festival chariots bend under the weight of too much god. The statues shine immaculate and dustless. Noise remains below a certain level – the almost inaudible echo of bare feet padding on stone beats the most consistent rhythm. The women observe three periods of worship – one at dawn for Saraswati, one at noon for Lakshmi, and one at moonrise for Parvati.