Devamayi and Mahamaya were the House of Holy Healing’s first devadasis. They were dedicated to Yellamma by their mother in the hope that the fertility goddess would intervene on her behalf and give her a son who would take care of her in her old age, unlike daughters who were nothing but a burden. From then on, the two girls were considered to be married to the goddess (as I was married to the goddess Geeta, a sacred gay marriage), and therefore forbidden to marry any mortal man as long as they lived. This insider connection with the goddess was a devadasi’s greatest asset even after her patron tired of her and dumped her in a brothel; it was a badge of pride and honor even in the pecking order of whores. A devadasi was not a sex slave, she was God’s slave. Yet despite these benefits, there is no question in my mind that the sisters were better off to have been evacuated from the squalor and degradation and abuse of that life. Neither girl remembered much from her initiation ceremony except having the pretty string of beads tied around her neck. Their duties during their novitiate included sweeping the temple, they recalled, among other chores. Sometimes they would perform ritual dances and sing traditional songs along with the other temple girls. They also would serve the priests, whenever they were summoned, day or night.

“Serve the priests?” Charlotte’s eyebrow arched into the punctuation of an exclamation point.

Charlotte, too, like my brother, had taken a serious interest in the sisters and in all devadasis, an estimated quarter million of them still operating in Mother India, even though the practice had been declared illegal, like sati, according to data gathered for her by one of her flunkies sent out on a fact-finding mission. She was already talking about bringing them all to the States and educating them properly. Clearly they were under threat of persecution, which definitely would qualify them for refugee status. She would pitch this idea to Michelle next time they met for hot yoga. Every one of the devadasis would become a member of her all-girls band, Lakshmi and the Survivors, along with its fabulous virtuoso wind player, Monica Lewinsky; they were already in show business, after all, trained as temple performers. It would be awesome, the world’s largest multicultural, diverse, all-female band, definitely a Guinness Book of Records contender.

After Buki enacted the first daring rescues not only of Devamayi and Mahamaya, but also of the two other little girls, Charlotte took on the cause, charging ahead with the full thrust of her formidable energy and resources. She put Buki at the head of the operation, ordering him to focus for the time being on the devadasis rather than the other sex workers, even the littlest girls, practically babies, no matter how pitiful and subhuman their plight, since the devadasis and everything they signified meant so much personally to Rebbie-ji and were so tied into his present mystical studies and teachings.