I have almost become immune to violence. I can’t even recall the number of death stories, mass murder I have heard in the past few years. But what I can recall is that it made no difference in my life.
As a child, I remember how I used to hide behind my dad and cry upon the sight of the sacrifice of the animal I grew so fond of in the matter of days. Perhaps, this is how a child should react. With time the activity taught me how integral the act of letting go and oblation is in life. But our collective behavior towards the ritual speaks less of oblation and more of how it has become a social compulsion.
Sacrificing animals has become important because the uncles are doing it, because the neighbours are competing. It has become important because sacrificial meat has to be distributed amongst people on the basis of proximity. It has become important because the in-laws have to be treated with a barbecue.
I am sure no one would argue that many find humour in the mistreatment of animals and agitation, dispose their insides on roadsides and let blood stagnate in the streets and eat their organs on the very day of the sacrifice.
Perhaps, a view of children cleaning thrown-away intestines on footpaths, in the quest of finding a living in the mess would explain why a practice that was meant to purify intentions and redistribute resources within society has become just another activity of adding more protein to our already privileged dining tables.
Published in The Express Tribune, October 11th, 2014.
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