Meat of the matter

Shiv Sethi

AFTER the rise of the saffron party in the sphere of  national politics, a bigot brand of Hinduism is asserting its religious and cultural supremacy. A man with tastebuds for non-veg food is now dubbed anti-national. Indeed, your choice of food is entirely your personal matter. My transition from a habitual non-vegetarian to a vegetarian, however, was not a result of any influence of any religious cult. 

Years ago, I would binge on meaty delicacies with my insatiable appetite. Born into a staunch Hindu family, where eating meat was considered a sin, I would delightfully, but furtively, savour non-veg food in parties. Eventually, my family declared me an outcast. Uncaring about the stigmatisation, I did not terminate my love affair with meat. 

Once a professor shared a story about his daughter’s wedding, which altered his food choices, once for all. It was the day of his daughter’s wedding, and in order to monitor the arrangements, he reached the venue early. He found cooks in the kitchen mincing raw meat. The sight repelled him such that he could never eat meat again. His narrative was gripping, as was his manner to unfold it. It may have impacted the eating habits of some, but I was not among the converts. 

The aroma of meat always drew me toward the non-veg food corner with a magnetic pull. I was stubbornly immune to the so-called gospel of my stern vegan father, who would often sermonise and threaten me by spelling out the consequences in my next birth. We both remained recalcitrant in our ways, till finally one day, a chance happening brought about a big change in my perspective.  

I was on my way back home from college, when a puppy got accidentally crushed under the wheels of my car while negotiating a sharp turn. In a fraction of a second, the pup lost its life. Mutely, but mournfully, I saw the pup’s mother licking its dead remains. My teary eyes could clearly see the tears in the eyes of the bereaved mother. 

I managed to compose myself and drove ahead to my home, but I was shaken. The following night, I could not get a wink of sleep. I remained wide awake, thinking of the innocent victim and the heartbroken mother. It was no New Year’s Eve, but I resolved to give up non-vegetarian food as an act of penance and atonement. 

Years have rolled by, my penance is still on. Unlike my fanatically religious brethren, I have no hatred for meat-eaters. In a democracy like ours, we must have the full freedom to exercise our will, at least about  meals. When I was a diehard non-vegetarian, it was by choice; and now I am a confirmed vegetarian, by choice again. No State intervention is allowed. And that is how it should be.