This’ll be a short one: How to be vegan — Don’t.
There, done.
But smugness aside, this column was planned before the moral police a.k.a. our central government took over. Back when the idea sprung up in my head, this was intended as a poke-fun-mildly sorta’ piece. Who knew that in a few months these waggish words would become a crucial survival guide for us.
So let’s begin by kicking up a serious storm. I, for one, love my meats. Fish, pork, chicken (no, not chicken), beef, yes, beef… I. Love. Meats. Every time I leave the country on work or pleasure — hard to tell when the two are so seamlessly aligned — I make a beeline for any place that will satiate my carnivore cravings. Some of you may be judging me right now, others might be too busy looking for their rusty-but-trusty Medieval Morning Star to bash my head in. Well, I don’t ask others to eat it, nor judge them for judging my diet. Also, since these are ‘crimes’ outside the geographical extent of our used-to-be-a-democracy and no extradition clauses exist for ordering a Wagyu cheeseburger (except that he who thought up a Wagyu cheeseburger should be shot in the kneecaps), I’m good for now.
This piece is to tell you that us omnivores too have feelings. Not just the salivations induced by a rib-eye or a pork chop, but feelings towards animals. I am also a deep sea diver and the tussle of gorging on seafood as also enjoying spending time underwater with them is just too much of an appetite spoiler. So I have drawn some lines: no octopus, no marlins, and definitely no rays or anything to do with shark fins. But I know that isn’t enough, and often I’ve wondered if I could go vegetarian, or ovotarian, or the ‘I don’t eat chicken but will have the gravy’-tarian, or maybe, even vegan.
To be vegan, it is very important to show it. Proud and loud, you can’t be vegan in the corner of a restaurant. You have to be ‘shouting at the manager in your loose-fitting khakis’ centre stage stuff. You need to compel everyone else to feel bad for ordering anything that involves an animal, as an ingredient or even for transportation: ‘accomplice to a crime is as bad as the criminal’ logic. You need to shout, cuss and spit or all three at anybody who sports leather or any other animal product. I know I am cutting a rather stereotypical image, but it’s with reason.
Because all vegans are not like that. In fact, most aren’t; eating that simple a diet probably drains you of all such angry negativity that us non-vegetarians are bursting with. Most vegans struggle to find enough food that meets their standards for what qualifies as acceptable morsels. And you’d imagine that with such a strong movement to ban slaughter, it would be a great time to turn vegan; clearly that’s what the government wants: good saatvik meals with a positive carbon footprint.
But I don’t think the people wielding the hockey sticks know what they want. I know some of them secretly want burra kebabs but they are now stuck eating dal-roti . For the rest of their lives. Which is good because after leading such conflicted lives when death comes, it’s heaven for granted, no matter where they end up.
For anybody else still aspiring to be vegan, as I said earlier, at least for the moment, don’t.
(This column is for anyone who gives an existential toss)
