I am death, shatterer of worlds,
Annihilating all things.
—Bhagavad Gita

That night Ishvari dreamed of the sadhu of the valley and Inanna dancing wildly around the blazing figure of a man she discerned to be the Maharaja. With an ugly cry that rent the skies, Takshak dissolved into thick spirals of smoke, whereupon Inanna jubilantly drew the sadhu into her arms, inviting him to suckle at her milk-swollen breasts. Wide awake now, Ishvari replayed the dream sequence several times in her mind’s eye. Finally, unable to make any sense of it, she drew the quilt over her head and slept until the chanting of the monks wafted into her room at daybreak.

She had to force herself out of bed—Inanna had stripped away Melukhha’s spark...

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