Under Mr. Shah’s tutelage, Vandana discovered how to hold snakes, feed them, clean after them, care for them. She was now a different avatar of The Karate Kid. Mr.Miyagi, however, was an Indian Jabba the Hut, and the karate chops were snake cages.
She was a quick learner, and quickly figured out how to be a snake’s best friend.
At long last, she was ready for interview. True, this was not as globally influential as becoming pope, but becoming a Snake Priestess was just as important to Vandana. Before she left to meet the head priests, then, she added one last element to her costume of a cobra skin-patterned black and gold sari: pair of permanent, vertical-slit-snake contact lenses. She was now the perfect priestess of the snakes.
She secured the job immediately, looking like Moses turning his staff into a snake. She moved into the temple; her little room and chamber made of unvarnished wood and a simple, stained mattress, all built under temple grounds.
Vandana soon learned of her duties. She daily performed pujas, or ritual worships, and managed special ceremonies held at the temple for hundreds of people, and conducted prayer sessions to the Serpent God.
It wasn’t too long before Vandana became wealthy as a priestess. Using her skills in handling snakes, she was able to fool unsuspecting, desperate devotees during ritual worships, and in doing so, present an image of a holy woman with divine powers. She told them what they wanted to hear.
“The Great God will grant you children.”
“You will have more many than one man should have.”
She fooled them, and took their money, simply because she could entwine snakes around her bangled arms. After almost a month of swindling these poor religious supplicants of their rupees, she performed a puja for a sexy, well-dressed man from Mumbai with a bushy mustache.
“You are so lovely,” he said during the service.
“Chee, don’t be dirty, I am now bringing you to God.”
“I’d rather you bring me to your bed.”
Vandana blushed, and feigned outrage. However, the transnakesual priestess wanted sex. She had not bedded someone since living as a woman full-time, frightened of telling her lover that she was actually a biological man. As Karishma had refused to have gender reassignment surgery, her male organs were still existent; as a result, she was scared to reveal the truth. But she finally did, and Dikip, though initially nervous, agreed to fuck her. Hard.
For him to do this in the temple that night was sacrilegious, profane, immoral. For Vandana, though, it was bliss. The two fell in love, and within a few months, Dikip asked her to marry him. The priestess agreed to it. So Dikip brought her back to Mumbai. She brought her sunglasses.