Dad! I am a Vegetarian

Tender at ten, I was tenacious to tissues. I carnivorously dined the pieces. After every Friday from the butcher, father brought sometimes chicken and other times mutton Mother cooked on the firewood, sister served gravy on the plate and I deliciously ate.

The time was about my Uncle’s wedding. Almost at meal, at lunch, at snack and at dinner, I got to chow down goat’s roast. Ah! I was in heaven. Tomorrow at dawn, we were marching in a marriage procession. From Poudyal Gau to  Adhikari Gau, along with us a goat was too going. It was a token of eccentricity to the groom’s family.

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The journey was quite long. Up and down was the hilly trail where the melodious music was making our mood mirthful out of melancholy. We sang, danced and enjoyed the moment. After the hours of walk we reached the destination. Everyone was tired and starving, They decided to eat the goat’s meat we brought with bitten rice. At first I leaped off in delight, I steadily craned my head towards the goat. It seemed vacant and exhausted too because it was resting silently at one corner. It started licking the wall in hunger. The scene sought sympathy; I pitied the goat. Generosity aroused in my heart and tarnished my terrible temperament. I pondered, we were fatigued. What might have become of him at that time?

We were celebrating the ceremony whereas he was attending his own funeral. Shame on us! I heard the khukuri being sharpened and the goat being dragged away. They gave it some water to drink, so the wet neck would be beheaded off conveniently without any choking. While it was sipping water, the slayer decapitated him. He died in intolerable agony. They held the body to pour blood in the bowl. The head was hither, the body was thither but the body was still fluttering to fight back death. I was cooing at the unpleasant picture nonchalantly, naively and numbly. I was sojourning stilly, silently and sensitively. Even after its demise they were hurting it, Oh God! Grant him some relief!

They boiled the water and  dipped the body into it. Someone braided off the hair with a glass harshly and other shaved off his fur with the blade roughly, There, they chopped him not pacifyingly and watching that sinful act my heart ached immensely. A strange sense sprang inside my soul. My father had been despising me from a long time. He had related me about the assassination of a goat. He mentioned, It is an offering to Goddesses Durga and thus he made me meaty. i thought, "If this so then god must be malicious." But the teacher had taught me in school; Gods and Goddesses loathe the butchery of auspicious animals. I know the tutor doesn’t deliver false teachings to his students. Hence, my father must be mistaken.

I was guilty, a demon l went on gobbling veal. I yearned to regret. Instantly, I kept an oath at that very moment, I would not be non-veggie again. Yet they were not finished,  they were still scathing him.One was frying his blood-drops, his liver, and his intestine in the pan, the other was grilling his ears, his eyes and his tongue in the gallows and the next was cooking the rest of him in the big vessel. I was in deep contemplation when my father whipped at me and interrogated why I was so lost. I did answer him. Emptiness had erased my enthusiasm. Eventually, he informed venison would be ready any moment.

Later, it was prepared as everyone seemed impatient to devour the ham like a hypocrite. Father put some motton on the saucer for me and asked how the taste was. I inhaled and exhaled and  dared to speak. I said in a low sigh, “Dad I am a vegetarian.”

Here are some other writings from Ashirwad Paudel:

If a Primative Would Have to Perceive Human?

Life In Gulf.