Death of a Carnivore

Biting into an animal was never a natural instinct for me. Born into a Curd rice community the only animal produce at home was milk . The closest thing to an animal cooked at home was an egg. The question never rose in my mind as to which came first, chicken or egg. The egg came first and went in as an omelette. I never considered bypassing the egg and biting into a chicken.

And then one holiday I went to Nellore(AP) to my friends place. Was going gaga over golti land and the farm we were staying in. I had always liked the spicy andhra food, now thrilled to be able to gorge in all the goodies for at least a week. Actively participated in chasing chickens thinking we were playing some sort of local sport. Only to be served at dinner a spicy, juicy preparation of the game. Moved by the aroma of spices and avoiding my mothers stare, i bit into a juicy leg piece(mustve been, cos a long bone stuck out). It was deeleeecious. I liked the tough nature, and the bloody feeling. Of biting into something other than veggies. I was hooked. Overnight i had shed my cured rice cloak and had become a carnivore. Or so i thought.

Then came meat at a community feast of a friends' wedding - it was a disappointment. Was tougher than chicken and didnt taste too juicy. Fish - I couldnt stand, the stench, even in a well prepared dish was too much for me to take. Then all sea food was out. For all the pride (misplaced) I claimed to be a non-vegetarian - i was justa chicken eater. Just chicken!

To play along with my friends (thats what you do when you drink) - some who were regular non-vegetarians, i used to order chicken. After a while it became chicken only in manchurian style. Chicken neatly covered in indo-chinese spices. My taste was moving towards the garnishings more than for the main dish. I was losing my carnivorous instincts, if i had had any to begin with.

Then came the last straw - on this trip. My pardner redefined what it meant to be a carnivore. A regular meal for him should have something that was now dead which used to move about. To him it completes a square meal. For me eating non-veg (read chicken) was a luxury, and when drinking. He would be disappointed if we landed up in an all vegetarian restaurant after a hard days ride. And when he was in a gluttonous mood even the bones would not be spared. I could never do that. And it doesnt matter if that creature used to fly, swim, or just graze about -after it was cooked properly - it would all go into his mouth with equal ease. And well appreciated.

I could never do that. In fact i never did that cos it never came naturally to me. I was just a curd rice freak trying to wolf down chickens. My mask is blown. I am back to where i started, only now bypassing the chicken and going to the omlettes. But happy to have taken a trip down the carnivorous lane. Curd rice! Here I come.