"Cow slaughter is an
inhuman practice and should be banned," Reema read from the back of the
newspaper that her brother, Rahul, was reading. "Okay that’s good. I mean, when
cows provide us with milk and plough our fields and all, we shouldn’t eat them
up. Little thanks that will be. But look…"
"You’ll miss the beef," Rahul
interrupted smugly, without taking his eyes off the paper that he was reading.
"Hey, I gave it up long back!" Reema
objected sharply. She hated being accused for what she had not done and her
past mistakes being pointed out.
"Point,
but not after two cows left the Earth and landed in your stomach," Rahul
replied calmly. Reema
was annoyed. She always was when her brother was around. He had an irritating
habit of pointing out all her mistakes and insulting her all the time. "Anyway, you were saying something before I
interrupted you."
"You
always interrupt me. But as I was saying, look at the reasons they gave: cows being a religious symbol for Hindus, the
vehicle of Lord Shiva should not be devoured by man. All that religious
nonsense! What about cows being helpful
and why helpful? As a matter of fact they shouldn’t be killed because they’re
living. We can live without eating beef!" Rahul didn’t seem to be taking in
a word of Reema’s rant. He was reading the article that had caused his sister’s
blood pressure to rise.
"Are you even
listening?" Reema demanded, extremely vexed.
"Nope." Rahul calmly folded the newspaper and looked at Reema who seemed to want to do
nothing more than throw the cup in her hands at his face. Her hands were trembling
in any case. "I wasn’t listening to your banter but I disagree…"
The cup did fall from Reema’s hand and her
face was white with shock.
"That was one god cup," Rahul
whispered, more to himself than to the woman, who sitting shell-shocked before
him, seemed not to have noticed.
When she spoke, it was little more than a whisper, "What do you disagree with?"
"That cow slaughter is inhuman. I
find it to be the most humane thing."
Reema
looked like she was about to faint from outrage. Nevertheless, when she spoke
her voice was steady, "I am ashamed to call you my brother." She was
interrupted again.
"What do you mean by humane?"
"Compassionate, kind, sympathic."
"Wrong. Don’t interrupt me." Reema, who had
opened her mouth to object, closed it limply. "Humane comes from human, so
shouldn’t humane mean the qualities of man?" Reema could see where this was
leading. "Seeing that humans are neither kind nor compassionate, humane should mean apathy, heartless,
inconsiderate. Inhuman, that is, what
is not human should mean kind and compassionate."
A ghost of a smile played on
Reema’s lips. "Cow slaughter is very humane," she said.
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