The Killings

The field so open and vast was silent except for the mercy sounds which pierced the air around. Except for the sound of the knife being sharpened, there was no other noise. There were only curious eyes waiting for the blood to be spilled.

A split second later, an old khan sahib, grey with experience in slitting the dumb animals, kneeled by the side of a standing goat, tied and fed, and held it by its neck. Sensing what was going to happen to it, the helpless animal already in a noose, tried effortlessly to free itself from the clutches of the butcher and the sharp edge of the knife which would cut loose the veins and leave it to die.

A tug at the neck with the sharp instrument by the khan sahib made the animal wobble tremendously before it fell onto the ground with still some life left. The blood soaked the dry, parched earth which the rains forgot to fill with and once the animal was dead after a struggle, the butcher dragged the warm body to a place, sat on a bench made of rocks piled up and severed the head off its body.

By the trunk of a tree hung the headless body- freshly executed and peeled off. A man in his late 50’s was dissecting the already dead animal’s internal organs as if it were a science lab and the biology teacher would give grades for the minute dissection and identification of the parts. After he was done with it, he placed all the organs on a platform along with the severed head, as if he were displaying his wares in an exhibition for the public to purchase. The rest of the victims watched their companion massacred, peeled off, slit open, hung and put on for sale by the merciless humans who cared nothing about the pain and blood so spilled.

They saw every part of their companion being offered at a price, which the eagerly waiting eyes were buying and walking away with black poly bags. The torture would not end here for their companion who was subject to such painful death. He would either be deep fried in oil or spiced up on flame for the family members to relish the taste of it.

There was no place where these animals could have gone to complain against these superior beings God created. There was no place where they could mourn the death of their companion and there was no way they could avenge the death in a more painful manner. All that they could do was to bleat and struggle trying to free themselves from the clutches of these deadly superior beings who never feel it a crime to murder a goat and relish it as a food item with their family members.

Thousands of such companions get killed every day in front of those thousand eyes which wait to grab a bit of liver or heart or limbs to be cooked up. Blood so spilled is never considered a crime by any law in the world.  Many argue that they have been created by the almighty to be mercilessly killed and be ending up on our dining tables as a part of our menu; there are groups which oppose to it. While the debate over the fate of these animals continues, several thousands of these innocent animals end up on our tables as an edible item, life no more!

Tear a drop can tell a story, can create history and can even destroy an existence.

Movies depict tears with an emotional touch perhaps greater than what we can think of. While in the world of reels, glycerin is a catalyst which enables the emotions to look real, in the real world it is the relations and the situations which are the reason for tears.

A child born brings happiness, a prize won brings cheers, a praise or hard work awarded brings tears of joy, a departed soul stirs emotions which remind the relations of the bonding that was, a break up (the anchor sheet of many Indian silver screen hits at a point of time or say, family dramas) are some of the instances we come across in our life every day.

Whats so special in these tears which binds or breaks a relationship?  Why is it that we either are swept away by tears or get weak when someone sheds tears before us?