There may be many reasons why some people don’t have chicken. In my family, we don’t have it because as a matter of fact, we consider hens relatives. It was my great grandfather, who first started a relationship with a beautiful hen.
My great grandfather was happily married to his wife, my great grandmother, when she fell ill and passed away. He married again, but his second wife too suffered the same tragic fate. He had children from his previous two weddings to look after and he wanted to marry again. But he was scared his next wife too would die after their wedding. So, before nervously proceeding with the third wedding, the astrologer asked my anxious great grandfather to first marry a hen, to ward off any threat to life to his would-be wife. He dutifully married a beautiful, healthy hen and made her his third religiously wedded wife, my third great grandmother.
Then his fourth wedding was solemnised with a woman, who thankfully survived and recently even marked her eightieth birthday with her smiling centenarian husband, all courtesy that beautiful hen. And the members of our family can’t have chicken all their lives, thanks to that hen.
While sitting on the mantap with the hen for the wedding, my great grandfather didn’t even think of how his future generations will never be able to feast on chicken all their lives.
He didn’t consider how his great grandchildren will have to think of different excuses at different parties to refuse chicken, while inhaling the irresistible, yummy non-vegetarian aromas. And he didn’t even think of how his progeny will have to look at all the hens with respect, because once upon a time, a beautiful, healthy hen was their relative.
I often wonder that if instead of marrying a hen and thereby making all hens our relatives, my great grandfather would have pityingly spared a thought for the gut pleasures of his lineage, and would have married some non-edible bird, namely a sparrow, or maybe a pigeon.
Then, just like the rest of the world, his family too, would be savouring delicacies such as chicken tikka, kebab rolls and butter chicken, instead of wondering how they taste. Cheers to healthy hens that we can dine with, but can never dine upon! The only non-vegetarian thing his family can relish, thinking and hoping it tastes almost like chicken, is fish.
And I hope no one in the family ever has to marry a beautiful fish.
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