The Meaty Story

Unlike several other items, no one has yet stated that "red meat is harmful to health." However, for the past several years, doctors have been doing this in their own manner by advising patients or the general public to avoid too much red meat or give it up altogether because, according to them, doing so is bad for health, especially heart health. Many people, even those of us who are mere mortals, do heed the advise; some do it extremely rigorously and completely disregard it. We didn't completely stop eating it, but we cut back and limited our consumption of red meat.For the majority of us in India, red meat refers to "mutton" or goat, sheep, or lamb meat, while some people have switched to pork. To the best of my knowledge, the latter variety has not received any certificates of "eat" from doctors, but it is obvious that the latter variety is much less expensive than mutton. Due to the potential for political incorrectness, I'd prefer to avoid talking about beef.

However, back when we were kids, there was less of a focus on health, and doctors were less likely to preach about what to eat and what to avoid. So, Sundays were the day we looked forward to as kids since we usually had mutton for lunch on Sundays. Of course, there were some delectable exceptions, like on rainy, chilly, or snowy nights. Because mutton was more expensive than all other meats of its kind at the time, some individuals consumed it more frequently as often as they could. And it was widely believed—and still is, according to the majority of people—that no other beef or chicken curry could compare to that exquisitely prepared mutton curry.

As we previously stated, once the new generation of doctors came into being, we rarely ate mutton and instead generally stuck to our regular diet of chicken and river fish. This does not imply that we ever forgot the widely held belief that mutton curry was the finest of all, and that our grandmothers and mothers, as well as the older generation of women, used to prepare it extremely well.

We made the decision to have mutton that particular Sunday morning after I convinced my wife that we had almost forgotten when we had last enjoyed it. So, with a cheery heart, I ventured outside to the neighbourhood market. I approached the shop I typically purchased from after climbing the broken steps up to the meat and fish market, which was housed in a decaying concrete structure. He grinned warmly as he welcomed me and didn't fail to tell me it had been a while. I nodded knowingly as I busied myself picking out the pieces of the hanging meaty bodies that he had ripped out. Because butchers are exceptionally skilled workers, you must use extreme caution in this position.

He adhered to my instructions and placed the precisely cut beef pieces in a dark-colored polythene bag. When I paid, I was shocked to learn that the price had increased once more. Even now, I'm not sure how the market's lowest demand can support the highest prices. The butchers may only slaughter a small number of animals to satisfy the demand for that portion of the market, which would allow them to retain higher rates even when normal casual diners like myself also frequent the establishments.

Something strange occurred when I descended the building's steps and entered the confined concrete passageway leading to the road.

reached home pressing the doorbell. My wife noticed my empty hands and looked up inquiringly at me. I walked in and sat down heavily on the sofa. In an air of suffocating suspense I narrated what happened to me or rather to the meat. She was so shocked at the peculiarity of the incident that she forgot to scold me or do anything of that sort. After a few fearful, for me, moments she started laughing. Immensely relieved, I joined her too in this merriment of tragic proportions. However, deep inside my mind I decided not to visit that cursed shop for a long time, and asked my wife if I'd rather go for chicken now. She said no still laughing, and added that an egg curry would do for lunch.