I think it was one of my cousins who euphemistically called the toilet, a temple. It wasn’t supposed to be offensive to the holy institution; just a hilarious way to allude to the place we all needed to visit daily for obvious reasons. The redefinition caught on with me and I gladly propagated it among my folks. In retrospect, it wasn’t entirely out of place. The new ‘temple’ was where I would go to relieve myself of waste, more physical than mental. It was also a place for a spiritual experience, not necessarily of the divine kind though. The ‘spiritual’ high I attained was on account of the many books I loved re-reading in complete privacy. With no one around, the tranquility was unbeatable. As long as I didn’t linger too long, I could read uninterrupted. By the time I emerged, I had won battles, flown to space, dived underwater and romanced an imaginary sweetheart. I’ve travelled in space and time since them. My physical books have made way for digital blips that need to be downlo...