The girl and the priest.

A fable about ancient fear of female power in temples.

The girl was living a miserable life but she wasn’t feeling miserable. She could well see the damp grey walls, the smelly busted mattress on the floor and the broken table in the middle of the tiny dingy room with leaking roof. She knew there was no food, no clean water, clothes were rags and she was shivering with cold and hunger.

The dirty raggedy woman with the messy hair, crouched in the corner was supposed to be her mother, but there were no feelings towards her. The skinny, bad tempered man that was her father was coming only now and then to eat the little stolen bits of food and shout incomprehensible things to the woman. They only needed the girl to bring them food, stolen, begged or pulled from the bins. They would beat her up and send her to steal again.

Despite all that, the girl wasn’t miserable. She had a glowing, warm feeling inside. She knew that her existence was spread over many worlds through time and space. She could feel and see through all of her other selves, and visit other existences as if jumping in and out of puddles of water. This particular life was not of much meaning other than for the experience of living on the verge of dying every day, but she was not ready to go just yet. She was happy for existing. Even in a God’s forgotten part of India, beaten, starved, dirty and cold, she knew how precious was the gift to breathe the Earth’s air and walk her grounds.

Thinking of this and looking through the eyes of another one of her Selves — raising her happy, beautiful children in a different part of the world, playing in the sand amongst trees and grass and flowers, she only partly heard her parents talking something in the corner of the room in hushed voices.

She willed herself back into the dingy, smelly place and listened carefully. They were planning to sell her as a bride to someone!!

“No, you cannot do that! I do not agree to this!”

“Shhh, keep quiet girl” hissed the father angrily, “We are your parents and we can do what we see fit best. The money will keep us fed and clothed for the winter and you will be living better yourself! Now sit down and shut up.”

She took a step towards them standing tall, feeling on her shoulders all her existences, all her lives — past and future, her heart beating fast with the knowledge flashing in her mind at the speed of light and she started talking things she never knew before.

“You do not know what you are doing! A Family starts and ends with the woman’s will for it. If a woman is not happy and curses in her heart the family of her husband on her wedding day, the ritual will become one of a Black Magic of highest degree and no one would be spared. A stone over a stone will not be left standing, and ruin will haunt every aspect of their lives. The priest is merely an assistant in any religion, who sets the rituals, but the real Master in a sacred ceremony is always a woman. For this, to take their power away it has been forbidden for women to enter temples, but the real reason is not because they are impure, but because they can overpower the deity of the temple!

And if a woman is so desperate as to take her own life on her wedding day, the ritual will become a Devi sacrifice! Do you know what that means?! Everyone that had participated in it, their families and their children for generations to come will have their souls damned for eternity!

Why do you think there is so much suffering and misery on the Earth? Because her women have not been respected and for centuries have been forced against their will into things they abhor!”

“What the hell are you talking about, child? Are you out of your mind? We need to take you to the priest! You dare tell him all this nonsense!”

At the temple, a young, smiling priest nodded at what she was saying as one would smile at funny story a kid was inventing for entertainment.

“I want you to call your old teacher.” The girl startled him out of his fake pleasantness. “He should have some memory of the old teachings.

¨This knowledge existed before those temples were built but not anymore. It was well known that when someone suffers, some other is taking over his vital life force. That is more valuable than gold. More valuable than anything in the Universe. There is someone out there who has known for millenniums that enslaving the woman is the key point for enslaving the human race… am I right, old man? If a woman is happy, in love and inspired with her hands free to do as her heart commands, she could lead her family to Paradise.”

The girl was watching the old priest amused. The old priest put a hand over his mouth in gesture of terror, shaking his head in disbelief, walking backwards to hide in the shadows of the temple. The other hand was frantically making signs for someone to shut her up. That knowledge should not have been exposed, not ever! That would be the end of the world as we know it if this got out. They had to stop it at any price!

The girl felt a hand closing tightly on her mouth. The blade was cold and quick, like a burning line at her throat then all went black. She left this existence with a sight and stepped in another one — one of many, halfway across the world, where she was still watching her beautiful kids play in the green, sunny park.

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