Blood red, Red blood

I am not a person anyone would call not nasty.
I am also not a person anyone would dare call nasty.
This maybe because either people are too terrified to call me nasty imagining the nasty things I might do to them if I find out what they called me or maybe because I am a neutral person – not too nasty but still sort of nasty all the same.
I like to think the latter is true, even though I like the idea of people being terrified of me.

Whatever you have read till now in this post is pure bullshit.
It has no relevance.
Now read on for the bullshit that I don’t think is bullshit.

I am not a hypocrite.
I am not a coward.
I was always sure about the certainty of the above mentioned two statements – until recently when a casual conversation during lunch made me think twice.
This has disturbed me, terribly.

I am a non vegetarian.
I like vegetables.
I love fruits of all sorts.
But basically I am a non vegetarian.

I have never considered myself to be an activist against cruelty toward animals.
I have never been particularly nasty towards animals as such – I think I am nastier towards babies than animals.
A few days back my unit mates decided to take a break from our anguishing lives and have lunch together.
It was a disturbingly enlightening lunch.
For one, I confirmed the fact that I love clear soup way more than any other sort of soup.
My unit mates realised my stomach’s enormous capacity (blush)
I figured out I can talk against cruelty towards animals while eating chicken and still sound reasonable – I think that is quite a talent.

My unit mates wanted to go fishing – fishing for fish.
I thought it pretty cool until they mentioned about hunting.
And then I clearly remember me asking an extremely dumb question (which does not occur too often) – I asked whether they actually killed animals during hunting.
I wonder why I asked that.
It is clearly one of those dumb blonde questions.
The last thing I want is to transform into one of those.
Maybe I asked the dumb blonde question because I was planning on joining my unit mates for their venture and the thought of me having to kill animals seemed pretty difficult to carry out.
I guess I was just confirming their barbarism.

I do not mind eating what is served on my plate.
But when it comes to having their blood on my hands, when it comes to actually taking away their lives – I think that is crossing a thin line somewhere.

One of my unit mates went on about how deer are awesome catches and how their eyes look awfully innocent as they take their last breath.
This is what I refer to as pure brutality – killing for entertainment.
I think talking about killing an animal and then about how wonderful it looks makes you very little different from a serial killer.
Of course my unit mates do consider me a hypocrite – eating chicken and talking about how horrible it is to kill animals.
The point is I did not kill any of them – it might not make much of a difference to you, but it definitely does to me because I do not have blood on my hands.

And then came the topic about how there are hundreds of people out there getting their hands bloody just for me to eat what I eat.
Well the point is I never asked them to kill and maybe if they stopped I would stop eating meat too – I think.
This makes me a coward.
It makes me a coward who wants others to get their hands dirty to satisfy my needs.

I realised I could never take life out of any living being – if that makes me a coward and a hypocrite I guess I will have to live with it.

I thought I would find it difficult to eat chicken after the disturbing conversation.
But I am fine – still a non vegetarian.

The point is my hands are still not bloody.