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Frazer and Henriques distinguished lusf major forms of sacred sexual rites: The research of Daniel Arnaud, Vinciane Pirenne-Delforge, Julia Assante, Stephanie Budin  and others has cast the whole tradition of scholarship that defined the concept of sacred prostitution into doubt.
Budin regards the concept of sacred prostitution as a myth—arguing that the practices described in the sources simply never existed. A more nuanced view, espoused by Pirenne-Delforge, suggests that ritual sex did exist in the Near East, but not in the Greek or Roman worlds in classical or Hellenistic times. Along the Tigris and Euphrates rivers there was a temple of Eanna, meaning house of heaven  dedicated to Inanna in the Eanna District of Uruk. It was previously believed to have been a custom whereby the king coupled with the high priestess to represent the union of Dumuzid with Inanna later called Ishtar.
Aslan the Tigris and Cape castles there was a deep of Eanna, meaning robot of dating  manufactured to Inanna in the Eanna Ache of Uruk. Impressively sounding warriors and muscle judo girls write, pose and writhe.
The same legislation that protected married women from slander applied to them and their children. They could inherit property from their fathers, collect income from land worked by their brothers, and dispose of property. These rights have been described as extraordinary, taking into account the role of women at the time. None of the daughters of Israel shall be a kedeshah, nor shall any of the sons of Israel be a kadesh. You shall not bring the hire of a prostitute zonah or the wages of a dog kelev into the house of the Lord your God to pay a vow, for both of these are an abomination to the Lord your God.
Murray writes that biblical passages ban qdeshim and link them with gods and "forms of worship detested by orthodox followers of Yahweh". In fact Judah had lost "the Book of the Law". During the reign of King Josiah, The high priest Hilkiah discovers it in "the House of the Lord" and realizes that the people have disobeyed, particularly regarding Sacred Prostitution. Eventually, we settle on soya, and fall asleep to a soundtrack of mobile phone bleeps and Bollywood film music from the far end of the carriage. It reminds us of the relaxed, laid-back tourist India of 30 years ago.
And there are comparatively few visitors, apart from South Korean tour groups and pockets of pony-tailed post-hippies. Visitors to Khajuraho, a UNESCO world heritage site We spend an absorbing morning strolling around the main temples, with their corn-on-the-cob-like towers. They are set in neatly tended parkland with all traces of jungle banished. Flute music drifts through the mist, distant bells chime and mongooses scuttle past.
Of Asian lust temples
Impressively endowed warriors and pneumatic dancing girls preen, pose and writhe. With great enterprise and acrobatic agility, they explore most sexual possibilities and many improbabilities. Camels, horses and elephants frequently join in, ttemples to ring the changes. Groups of teenage o show a lyst interest as guides tout for custom. After lunch we drive out to some of the Asiian temples scattered among templws, wheat and potato fields. Herds of buffalo lollop along the lanes; small boys punt across a lake to gather water chestnuts; an old man leads his cattle one by one to bathe in a stream; immaculately poised women follow paths winding between villages; a kingfisher darts past, a flash of iridescent blue.
On the way back to Delhi, we decide to visit Orchha, rather than Agra. So we take the train to Jhansi. Crowds of up to 60, devotees flock here at pilgrimage time and the priest-in-charge, Father Alex Mascarenhas, reports occasional miracles. We found empty palaces echoing with chattering parakeets and vultures perching menacingly on temple towers. In a bend in the river, overgrown ruins dotted fields where farmers ploughed with buffalo. We were practically the only visitors. Orchha has become a regular stop on the tourist circuit, though much of its charm has survived Since then, Orchha has become a regular stop on the tourist circuit, though much of its charm has survived.
There temmples smart new places to stay but, as we have always done, we opt for the Sheesh Mahal, a small Asiqn shoehorned into one of the palaces. The views from its rooftop terrace are mesmerising. Dense forest stretches to the horizon, and at night the sky sparkles with stars. Our latest visit is much like every other: We wander the lanes at dusk or in the freshness of an Indian morning. One uncharacteristically energetic afternoon, we explore the palaces: