by Raju Peddada
"The clitoris glans is the wick of Eros, the site where the 8000 nerve fibers are threshed together into a proper little brain."
"My father was not an unregenerate defender of male privilege. He saw the sense of the goddesshead and the unnatural quality of the unrelievedly patriarchal structure of the Judeo-Christian-Islamic axis. We were in the Metropolitan Museum together once, and we passed by a painting depicting the father, the son, and the holy spirit. I don't remember the artist or the century or the country of provenance. In fact, I remember little about the work except my extreme dislike of it. The three omnipotences were painted as identical triplets, a troika of brown-bearded men in long robes. My father, the angry lapsed Christian, sneered at the painting. The Holy Trinity, the supposed creators of life on earth -- and not a female among them, he grumbled. The least the artist could have done, my father said, is to portray the Holy Spirit ambiguously enough that you might mistake it for a woman."
—Natalie Angier, winner of the Pulitzer Prize, Woman - An Intimate Geography, 1999
(Swans - September 9, 2013) "Wait... let's ask her," pointing to Nan, "about that word Shulman had mentioned -- what was it, er, Gar-bhaa-gri-haa or something like that?" Pu suggests.
"Garbhagriha? My mother had explained this to me when I was 15 -- our temple threshold represents the vaginal entrance, with an angel-like entity at the top and center of the entrance, situated exactly like the clitoris. The narrow causeway into the temple is like the uterus, leading to the inner sanctum, the womb -- where god resides -- a miracle in residence -- isn't the child miraculous? Think about it -- the almighty clit is the first to witness your emergence into the world of sadness and death. You live protected in the womb, then emerge only to begin the countdown to your end! That -- is what you call Garbhagriha -- profound symbolism! -- It's not some bearded drip dicks sitting in a mildewed monastery, plotting against the female."
"You put it out so powerfully -- it's so sensual, yet so spiritual! No argument here," Evie and Pu offer in unison.
"I saw my sister deliver my nephew -- my bro-in-law was in Iraq at the time. You know, she came in dilated 5 cm -- they put her on Epidural, as she started to push, the only thing that stayed put was her clit, everything else was bursting at the seams -- can't imagine how our body can stretch so much without tearing -- her tiny vagina, suddenly transformed to a miraculous gateway, for something unfathomable, life -- I freaked out at the unbelievability. Surya's head bulged right under her clit, and I was able to touch his gunky scalp while only his crown had barely emerged. -- fuck, whoever professed it as the original sin should have been delivered through the asshole -- what glorious irony -- what a paradox, think about it! One hole delivers life, the other, waste -- both hardly an inch apart. Do you think it was nature's way of telling us that life is close to shit, if we are hypocrites?"
"Girl -- you make too much sense!" Evie and Pu in chorus.
"Now imagine that! Every goddamn head, from that of Muawiyah to Saladin, and from Uthman to Faisel, had emerged from under their mother's clits, yet some of them want to hack it off, depriving would-be mothers the right to the pleasing experience of being a human being. Mutilation reduces women to incubating and birthing machines, just to populate that religion. They don't want woman to know pleasure -- how insecure can they be? I sometimes fantasize mass castration?! - fuckin' savages! I swear, I am going to father a religion -- and call it Clitoricism."
"Hahahahaha -- that's a big hammer!" Evie and Nan convulse together.
"I always wondered about those women who had given birth to all their saints -- and are unfit to be even a mere friar. My mother confessed that my father had often called her a vessel of sin. The vagina: a vessel of sin -- from where the so-called holy fucking men had emerged? I say their heads are the vessels of sin and the vagina as the vessel of redemption! These hypocrites preach that Mary was a virgin who gave birth -- birth, from where, her ass? You'd believe this only if you are dumb as a post box -- this is why I'm an atheist, and this shit has estranged me from my... aaw, fuck it!"
"Easy Evie -- returning color."
"Shut the fuck up, Pu!"
"Pardon moi -- didn't know a pussy discussion would get you this excited. What am I going out with?"
"Shut up -- it makes me mad, just thinking about all the bullshit me and my mother put up with!"
"Sorry Evie..." Nan interjects. "It's not just religion, it's a larger issue -- men -- most of them, still cannot deal with our sexuality, they think it's something to possess, and constantly lust over -- the laconic spirituality of a woman's clitoris and vagina transcend their functions... which, very few of either gender can understand or articulate..."
"Do you think that our thinkers and philosophers ever wondered about it -- especially, from the age of enlightenment? The clit had witnessed Washington, Franklin, Lincoln, Gandhi, Picasso, Mozart, and every other great head emerge -- would they have considered the clit and the vagina to be the spiritual threshold?" Pu queries.
"It must have occurred to them. Intellectual radicalism is far too dense and dangerous for the public consumption, especially for men -- who are for the most part Abrahamic Neanderthals. I am positive Franklin and Jefferson would have acceded to such an acclamation wholeheartedly. I know for sure that Clinton and Wilt Chamberlain would have!" Evie offers mischievously.
"In all seriousness -- there's got to be a middle ground, and it's not always between the legs. Polarity in values incite wars -- either it's sexual repression in the MiddleEast or indiscriminate sex of the West, it's incendiary and reactionary, causing bloodbaths. I think repression nurtures indiscriminate sex and vice versa, it's a push back -- the Middle East considers it as whoring, the West thinks of it as liberty!" Pu states.
"Yeah -- sex is indeed the center of conflict in society and more so in religion. What is the major friction between liberals and conservatives -- our sexuality, the body of men and their sexual preference, and the body of the female and her control over it -- I think the truth settles somewhere between both camps, but the baby always gets chucked out with the bath water," Evie responds. A mufflerless motorcycle distracts them for a moment.
"What are you thinking?" Pu and Evie to Nan.
"Look, sexuality is the central force of our existence, it's the pivotal power -- because a healthy society emanates from it - contrary to the damaging and destructive religiosity that denigrates it. The Christians' burden and shame the woman -- the vessel of sin, the Muslims use them as slaves and chattels, the Hindus revere the female body, but exploit it nonetheless -- there's got to be a happy medium here. We must work on what works and what is healthy -- abolish or reform all major faiths -- accept that a woman is neither a vessel of sin, nor a birthing robot, that must be deprived of the fundamental pleasure of sex. Accept that the female is equal to the other gender, if not better, and that it is the temple of untold and unheralded potential..."
"... and that threshold, the vagina, being the symbol of survival -- a worshipful and honorable planter, where the future is sown, grown, and delivered," Pu again concludes Nan's thought.
"Yeaah -- thanks!"
"Religions, particularly the Sinai variety, have whittled away the intellectual-moral strength and stature of men, making them weak and insecure as a gender -- as evidenced in their warped mechanisms of control on a gender they cannot exist without. These insecurities, over time, have calcified into resentment of the feminine ascendance in the ability to not only give birth and nurture, but rule as well -- like Elizabeth I, Catherine the Great, or Victoria. Has there been any ruler, especially male, who could compare favorably to Elizabeth? Men of religion, in their brutish absolutism, have lost all perspective -- that growth resides in reformation, adaptability, empathy, compromise, and generosity -- it's surprising how many nations exist on the basis of such absolutism -- an anathema at the very least, to the very idea of civil existence."
"Gosh, you sounded exactly like Shulman!" Both Pu and Nan to Evie.
"With your passion on feminine issues... folks might think you are either gay or a feminist," Nan nods at Pu.
"No -- I am neither a feminist nor a chauvinist swine, I am a naturalist -- I love feminine beauty... an awesome gift of nature to man -- the only solution is reshaping our notions on sexuality and gender equality. This can be done without wars -- replace, not fight should be our goal. The way to change is to do something really well -- do it so well that it replaces the bad and the ugly, especially.... girls -- I have an idea! Let's establish a nation that'll stand tall -- replace and render places like Saudi Arabia, Iran, Pakistan, and Afghanistan obsolete -- it's Clitoristan! Home of the free sexual spirit!"
"Clitoristaan! Godd... only women?" Evie and Nan pursue.
"No -- it's for those who will revere the anatomical superiority of the female -- The constitution will be referred to as Clitoristution. Clitoristan will be in Greenland -- cold? No! It'll be the warmest fucking stan for all the love we'll have for each other -- immigrants can be persecuted-abused woman -- also men, who accept, and can live with woman's superior sexuality. The architectural ordinances will honor the vagina. We'll have a flag with pink-red chocolate. Our statue will represent the true sexual liberty, with a perfect nude, epitomizing not only the sexual magnificence, but maternal benevolence. Men from misogynistic nations will be barred -- no vagina asylum will be given. The guillotine will be reinstated as the official equipment to execute only the penises of men, convicted of misogyny -- woman will be the executioners -- there will be no killing, only castration, for the reduction of woman -- anything else I missed? But, I cannot be the founding father of Clitoristan -- being a dick?"
"You're a fuckin' visionary! It's a beautiful dichotomy, that a man would be the founder of Clitoristan -- one who will defend-protect the gender, and would build temples for us!" Evie and Nan gush and blush.
"Thanks-a-moon! Evie, after all this foreplay -- will you give me a darshan... pleease?"
Evie evicts Pu's paws while Nan giggles -- her phone starts to ring.
"Hello -- oops, I'm sorry, got wrapped up in fab-gab, I'll be right over and explain." Click. Guys, I gotta scoot, but this was such an effin' blast -- let's get in on it again!"
"Bring Dave along sometime -- let's do a D-D and munchies."
"Sure lovers -- later!"
"I want to visit your garbhagriha... may I?" Pu implores Evie, with kinky eyes.
"Why not, Lingam?" She flutters her eyelashes, reaches over and kisses him; both their lips in that sunset appear as two hearts rendered sideways, pressing against each other.
When our scatological gender mindset, chauvinistic beliefs, and fear is pissed away by our pathetic peckers, only then -- only then will we realize that our all natural condition is attraction, procreation, and survival -- and both the clitoris and the vagina, despite all our pretensions and misogynistic malarkey, will be there to ordain and sanctify our arrival, and our very survival.
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About the Author
Raju Peddada is an industrial designer running an eponymous brand, purveyor of ultra luxury furnishings of his own design (see peddada.com). He is also a freelance correspondent/writer for several publications, specializing in commentary, essay, and opinions on architecture, design, photography, books, fashion, society, and culture. Peddada was born in Tallapudi, a small southern town in south India. He's lived in New Delhi and Bombay before migrating to the West Indies and eventually settling in Chicago, Illinois, where he worked in corporate America until he chose to set up his own designing firm. He lives with his family in Des Plaines. (back)