By Meera Subramanian       I think too much. For the men who
attend, and the few women who venture out in the night (most
women come in for the daylight aartis), it was just a few
minutes of their time, a few coins from their pocket as
offering. A moment of respite and reverie, god-love and grace in
a messy world. But multiply the moments. The bills and coins,
stacked into a roll and folded deftly into the waistline folds
of the priest’s dhoti. The temple visit, every day or even more
than once, the minutes turned hours turned days of devotion.
Imagine that energy harvested and turned to cleaning up and
transforming a nation, for ridding the waterways of the waste
that causes 1600 people to die each day in India from simply
having the shits[1].  Others are thinking along the same lines.
India’s former environment minister Jairam Ramesh caused a stir
recently when he complained there were more temples than toilets
in India. The Hindu right raised their hackles, blaming the
government for their failed job of he