Woman in truth is the sacred fire,
Her lower limbs are the fuel,
The hairs of her body the smoke,
Her vulva itself is the flame,
The act of entering is the kindling,
The blaze of pleasure is the sparks that fly up:
In this fire the gods offer up the seed of humanity.
From this sacred offering man is born.
He lives for as long as he is destined to live.
And then he dies.
—Brihadaranyaka Upanishad

Three old women garbed in ankle-length white tunics hurried down the stone steps of the imposing mansion to meet Ishvari. They wore no jewelry and their skulls were shaven clean, indicating they were either celibates, or widows, bound in service to the Great Gods. Bowing low in unison, they raised their shrewd ey...

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