Every time my class comes back to the subject of Indian classical dance Bharata Natyam and the devadaisi, the devotees of the temple who danced it in antiquity, I am attracted. I want the fulltime job of custodian of the temple, of dancing ritual oblations in costumes that take four people to put and paint on, of rigorous physical training, of alternate spaces, of staying in one place, of being outside class and caste, of being a different kind of woman, of always being the other woman, of getting to disappear behind makeup and mask and jewel and inner temple sanctums, of being at the same time exposed for all to see, a public spectacle, of living for my body, of giving my body to the gods, of marrying the gods, of complete devotion to the god, of the discreet unions with human and god that could slip through the cracks.