“Archaeology, it seems, has unwittingly proven that Vegetarianism is not only unnatural for our species, but a meatless diet is actually counterproductive to our survival. Had our prehistoric ancestors not learned to hunt, kill, and eat meat, we would not be present today to have this debate. The truth lies in the fossil record, eating meat is ingrained in our evolutionary history, and even in our DNA.”

From an extremely well researched and well written post by

Oliver King 

I am a vegetarian which means no eggs, no meat, no fish (if ever you feel inclined to feed me). I was not always a vegetarian. In fact I  was a borderline carnivore till about ten years ago. Why I gave up non-vegetarian food is quite a mystery to me. Every time someone asks me that question, I invent a new answer.

So this post is about trying to discover why I became a dimwitted vegetarian after sixteen years of flesh eating.

There used to be this show on television hosted by animal rights activist Maneka Gandhi. They used to telecast these blood and gory embellished episodes  every weekend, showing how animals are slaughtered for the sake of human consumption. At school, I started to hear of people giving up meat after viewing a few episodes, a student council member and a classmate being among them. This sort of fascinated me. I realized that if I gave up these fleshy pleasures, I might have a real chance at popularity in school. So, one fine day I declared to my parents over dinner that I was going green. My father laughed and my mother stuffed a handful of rice into her mouth to hide her mirth. That spurred me on.

O.K. a little history here is required. I loved all things non vegetarian to the extent that I would kill for prawns and die for mutton chops. As a child, I consumed non-vegetarian food with a passion that made my parents fear for my tiny digestive system. Hence my parents’ reaction when I made my declaration.

Their sarcasm and ridicule challenged my ego. I accepted the challenge and swore off all the temptations of meat/fish/eggs. I was happy in my vegetarian paradise, my friends oohed and aahed, my vanity was massaged. Trouble started two days later, when Amma made my brother an omelet. I tried to ignore the smell, I tried not to stare at my brother’s plate, struggled not to hate my mother but to no avail. Midway through the meal, my mother asked if I would have an omelet. It was seduction, I capitulated to her schemes and before I realized my fall, I was half-way through the egg. From then on I declared myself to be a vegan.

So, I had solved all my problems with a small compromise. Or so, I thought till we had prawns for lunch one day. I of course refused any serving and having learnt my lesson, used tact and strategic seating to avoid a view of the sinful prawns. The meal was over, my father was surprised by my forbearance and my mother puzzled. After the meal, when everyone dispersed from the dining area, I lurked, waiting for my mother to finish up the washing and cleaning (No, I didn’t help, I never claimed to be a good daughter). Finally with that wrapped up, my mother proceeded to her bedroom for her regular afternoon siesta. I saw my chance, stole into the kitchen, spooned out some of the prawns and devoured them with one eye always on the lookout for enemy/my family. It was either stealing from my own kitchen or putting up with my father’s ridicule. I chose the more ego-preserving option.

I was stronger with other fish and meat, though I confess to having stolen a few pieces of fried chicken and on one occasion fried beef when my parents were hosting a dinner. Anyway, this charade was kept up for about two months when my father decided to take the matter into his hands. He took us out to dinner to a favorite eating joint. Their specialty was the “Mughlai parantha”. It’s bread with a filling of mutton “keema” and eggs. Before entering he very innocently asked me if I was O.K. with the choice of hotel. Seeing this as an open challenge, I said yes. I should have known better. My father has been wasting his time at Tata Motors for the past 30 years. He would have made a great politician, a master strategist. He knew my failing and attacked my one weakness, my bloated head, mercilessly.

We went in. The other three ordered the family favorite, the “Mughlai paranthas”. I stoically asked for some boring vegetarian dish which I don’t even remember now. The orders came and we started to eat. However much I tried, I could not block out my father and brother relishing their “egg and keema”. My mother, bless her soul was more considerate. Half an hour into the meal, I broke down. My father, his victory complete ordered another of the paranthas for me. With my head bent in humiliation, I ate like it would be the last thing I would ever eat. I had to steel myself for the hoots and catcalls I would face once we got home so I decided to gorge myself on mutton to at least make the humiliation worth it. I ordered another one. My father raised his brows, I dutifully ignored him altogether. Now, these paranthas were large, about the size of a large pizza, dripping with clarified butter and filled with an eggs and mutton mixture which would be taxing enough to the human digestive mechanism on their own. I had had two of these and one vegetarian dish at one go. Add to that the fact that, I had been off non-veg for almost two months. My body was wont to revolt.

Revolt it did, I was throwing up for the whole of the next day. I missed school for two days.

After this I developed a serious aversion to meat. No matter how my mother fried chicken or how many mutton chops my father tempted me with, I could not have them. I gradually started to dislike fish too; the smell and the flavor would put me off. I continued as a vegan for about six more months more when after eating half of a poached egg, I threw up and had to give up eggs too.

The whole process took about a year and I still cannot enjoy the non-vegetarian flavor in any of my food. I did have an omelet at college as part of a bet (my friend had had to sponsor a whole week’s food for me on losing it). But though I did not become sick, neither did I enjoy it. I have tried having chicken biriyani once, the flavor got to me again and I withdrew.

So I am doomed to be a vegetarian for life, though that is not a particularly bad thing.

And yes, Oliver if you read this, I have to admit that my brain seems to be a little more scattered now than it was when I was a carnivore. Hope I don’t start swinging from trees anytime soon. Now that would be a major embarrassment for me and a heyday for my father.