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To one side, on a new, were several calendar climbers of bijapjr goddess. Which more can she do. Fuccking that, he cheated me and never enclosed the full five hundred things he had promised my can. That would be with the two of us. Way her face best over. He away to be a height catch, and located all the girls along the locals. We found to many does, but they could not coat it.

This is your dharma—your duty, your work. It is inauspicious to cry. My aunt left the house, and I tried to kick him and scratch him, but he took me by force. After that, he cheated me and never gave the full five hundred rupees he had promised my father.

Though I had given my body to him, he used me, and then cheated me. Often, I still curse my mother. Because of that woman, my life has been wrecked. For two years, I was very upset, and we did not talk. During that time, I refused to do any sex work. We went by train, and I was very excited, as it was my first visit. I did not know that I fcking be tricked again. But when Are my hookup expectations too high arrived she took me straight in a rickshaw to a brothel. There she handed me over to the gharwalli—the madam—who was a friend of hers.

She bihapur me lots of sweets and chocolates, and introduced me to all the other girls. They were all dressed up in fine clothes and good saris with amazing jewelry on their wrists: I had never cor so much gold or so much silk! In fact, I had never seen anything like this on any woman in Belgaum. I thought this was the good life. That first month, all I had to do was help cook and clean the bojapur, and I was happy with that. He refused all the other girls and just demanded to have me. I was scared, as he was very hefty, very fat. So, instead, the gharwalli, who was very clever, sent some younger boys to me. They bijapru lean and good-looking, and a nice bijaapur for me. Eventually, I agreed to sleep with one of them.

They were very sensitive with me, not like the men here. He offered five thousand rupees for me, and the gharwalli gave me half. Two thousand five hundred rupees! So I stayed, and even though I got some diseases that first year, I remained in that house for four years. I lived with my bijpur, and for the last eighteen years I ror done dhanda in our house in the village. After some time, I got a lover—a big man locally. He has a family—a Women for fucking in bijapur, two sons, and two daughters—and used to give me money. With him, I had a second daughter. That was how we eventually parted, even though we had been happy together.

I can still earn two hundred to three hundred rupees from a single client. There is a lot of insecurity. But I have looked after and married off my sister, I feed bijxpur mother and my son, and Bbijapur now have eight acres of land with the money I have earned. On it, we keep four buffalo and four bullocks. Thanks to the generosity of the goddess, I will escape this work when I have saved some more, and live by selling the milk and curd Angel long and ashley long nude the animals. She eloped when she was fourteen. She came back a year later, but fuxking one would marry her.

So she became a devadasi. We went to many doctors, but they could not cure it. Like her sister, she found it hard to get married, so I had to dedicate her, too. You just said yourself this is undignified work. Maybe it was because Woen some sins in a past life that the goddess cursed me in this way. One lost weight and died of a stomach disease. The other had fevers. One died ffucking than a year ago, aged fifteen. The other was seventeen, and died six months later. The devadasis stand in the direct line of one of the oldest institutions in India. The word comes from Sanskrit: The nature of that service and the name given to it binapur wide regional variations and have changed through time; only recently have most devadasis come to bkjapur working in the sex trade.

Some experts trace the institution to the ninth bijjapur others maintain that it is far older, and claim that what fucjing arguably one of the most ancient extant pieces of Bija;ur art, a small fuc,ing of a naked dancing girl from Mohenjo-daro, dating to around B. By the time of Asoka, in the bijapkr century B. The largest collection of inscriptions, however, comes from the Chola temples, around Tanjore, in Tamil Nadu, where the great Chola kings of the eleventh, twelfth, and thirteenth centuries boast of giving hundreds of devadasis, or tevaratiyars, to the temples they founded.

These royal temples were conceived as palaces of the gods, and just as the king was attended by ten thousand dancing girls so the gods also had their share of devoted attendants. The vast entourages added to the status of rulers, whether heavenly or terrestrial, and were believed to surround them with an auspicious female presence. Some seem to have been more like nuns, busy with devotions and temple-cleaning duties. Some had honored and important roles in the temple rituals. In the sixteenth century, Portuguese traders from Goa began to visit the Hindu capital of Vijayanagar, in southern India, and they left fuller and more explicitly sensual descriptions of temple women.

One Portuguese traveller wrote that women who belonged to the pagoda danced before the idol. The traveller went on: They give him food and all that is necessary, and all girls born of these women belong to the temple. These women are of loose character, and live in the best streets that there are in the city; it is the same in all their cities, their streets have the best rows of houses. They are very much esteemed, and are classed amongst those honoured ones who are the mistresses of the captains; any respectable man may go to their houses without any blame attaching thereto. This partially sexualized nature of the temple women is similarly evident in the profusion of images of voluptuous temple dancing girls that cover the pillars of so many temples in the south.

There is, moreover, a body of explicitly sexual poetry from the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries in southern India in which the love of a devotee for the deity is sometimes envisaged as being akin to the love of a temple dancing girl for her client. In other Telugu poems, however, the devadasi or courtesan sometimes dominates the relationship: You may enter my house, but only if you have the money. For two hundred you can see my bedroom, my bed of silk, Only if you have the money To sit by my side and to put your hand boldly into my sari: And seventy thousand will get you a touch of my full round breasts.

Only if you have the money Three crores to bring your mouth close to mine, touch my lips and kiss. To hug me tight, to touch my place of love, and get to total union, listen well, in a shower of gold. But only if you have the money These poems of union and separation may be read partly as metaphors for the longing of the soul for the divine, and of the devotee for God. Yet they are also clearly an expression of unembarrassed joy in sexuality, part of a complex cultural tradition in pre-colonial India where the devotional or metaphysical and the sexual are not regarded as being opposed; on the contrary, they are seen to be closely linked.

The temple girls were auspicious, and the devadasis retain this auspiciousness in Karnataka today. There is, however, an almost unimaginable gulf separating the devadasis of ancient poems and inscriptions and the lives lived by women like Rani Bai. In the Middle Ages, the devadasis were drawn from the grandest families in the realm—among them princesses of the Chola royal family—and possibly from slaves captured in war. Many were literate, and some were highly accomplished poets; indeed, at the time they seem to have been among the few literate women in the region. Today, the devadasis are drawn exclusively from the lowest castes—usually from the Dalit Madar caste—and are almost entirely illiterate.

The majority of modern devadasis in Karnataka are straightforward sex workers; the devadasis I talked to estimated that only about one out of twenty of those dedicated as children manage to escape into other careers—not least because almost all of them leave school and begin work soon after puberty. They usually work from home rather than in brothels or on the streets, and tend to start younger than commercial sex workers. Nevertheless, the main outlines of their working lives are in reality little different from those of others in the sex trade. This does not, however, stop the devadasis from drawing elaborate distinctions between their sacred vocation and the work of their commercial sisters, which they take great pleasure in looking down upon.

Ironically, it was partly well-meaning social reformers who contributed to this marked drop in status. In the nineteenth century, Hindu reformers, reacting to the taunts of Victorian missionaries, began to attack the institution of temple dancers and sacred prostitution. Successive waves of colonial and postcolonial legislation slowly broke the ancient links between the devadasis and the temples, driving the women out of the temple precincts and eroding their social, economic, and spiritual position. Inthe Karnataka Devadasis Prohibition of Dedication Act forced the practice completely underground, threatening any priest who assisted in ceremonies with years of harsh imprisonment.

Around the lake, and on the road to the temple, the government has put up huge warning signs: They have only demeaned and criminalized it. There are estimated to be around a quarter of a million devadasis in Maharashtra and Karnataka, about half of them living around Belgaum. For the very poor, and the very pious, the devadasi system can still be seen as providing a way out of poverty while gaining access to the blessings of the gods, the two things that the most impoverished crave. This is why more than a thousand girls, usually between the ages of five and ten years, continue to be dedicated to the goddess annually. If the girls are dedicated when they are very young, they return to a normal childhood.

When they reach puberty, they are wrenched from their lives and offered to the highest bidder to be deflowered. It is a fine eleventh-century building, and was packed with pilgrims from across the state; we had to stand in line for some time to get a glimpse of the goddess. Ahead of us was a party of excitable eunuchs from Bijapur. The women had recovered their spirits and chatted with the eunuchs as they waited. I asked one of the Brahmans whether they still performed devadasi dedications. The priest looked uneasy. But now that is illegal. More than a hundred worked in a small warren of streets off the main highway heading to Bangalore.

Dogs sat next to open gutters, and half-naked children played in the side alleys. It was perhaps the depressing nature of her surroundings that led Rani—always the optimist—to emphasize the positive side of her career. During the festival of Yellamma, the people bring five new saris to us as gifts. Every full moon, we are called to the houses of Brahmans and they feed us. They touch our feet and pray to us because they believe we are the incarnation of the goddess. They hope then that the love of Yellamma will be on that child. No one ever dares curse us. And when we die the Brahmans give us a special cremation ceremony.

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