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Boys will be boys
During my adolescent days, there was no organised poultry farming. Only some people belonging to the lowest rung of the society used to possess some chicken.
- By Lalit Raizada, Special to Gulf News
- Published: 23:32 December 8, 2008
During my adolescent days, there was no organised poultry farming. Only some people belonging to the lowest rung of the society used to possess some chicken. These birds would give them a few white or brown coloured eggs, which would earn them a few coins every day. Unlike today's all-white, most of the birds had a mix of feathers - light brown, yellow and chocolate brown. Their eggs were invariably light brown in colour.
There was little protein awareness among a majority of people. As such, there was little consumption of this powerhouse of protein. Chicken, as meat, was deemed a luxury and was consumed by very few people. In the social set up of those days, the majority of people were vegetarians, who would frown at meat eaters and even at the egg-etarians.
Interestingly, egg was supposed to be meant only for the sick. Only when a doctor would prescribe an egg or two for a patient, it would be bought for his or her exclusive consumption to enable him to recuperate early. Nobody else in the family would think of eating an egg. A widely held belief was that a fertile egg had 'life' in it, which should not be 'killed' and consumed.
Another reason for the general disdain was that the birds were not given proper feed, which their owners could ill-afford. The chicken were let loose in the open to find food for themselves. And they would invariably probe the open sewage drains for anything that would satiate their unending hunger.
In such a scenario, who would have wanted to eat chicken as meat?
Yet, there were youngsters like my younger brother 'R', who developed a craving for consuming murgha (chicken). As a child, he had seen films showing chicken being served and voraciously eaten.
Boys are boys and will always remain so 'R' hatched a conspiracy with a cousin and set out with a big cloth satchel. They had seen a couple of hens occasionally straying close to our house.
The boys tried to corner one of the two birds but it proved to be smarter and gave them a slip by flying out of the danger zone. The boys were not professional bird-catchers. After all, it was their first day at the school for "rogues" to pinch someone else's possession. After another attempt failed, the two brought some birdfeed from our house. It was strewn in a manner that would lure the chicken into a trap. The trick worked and a bird was finally caught and put inside the satchel with the speed of lightening.
The boys quickly withdrew into our house with their prized possession ensuring they did not get noticed. With unusual speed, the twosome rushed to a secluded room on the third floor to make their much-cherished dream a reality.
Problems arise
A knife was stealthily brought from the kitchen, but unfortunately for them, it was not sharp because it was essentially meant to chop vegetables. The real problem arose when the two realised that they did not know the art of dressing up a chicken. They discussed the "problem" in a hushed tone so that they were not caught. Eventually, they decided to do it even if it was in a crude manner "because anyway we have to eat it to the last bone".
The job was accomplished, albeit crudely.
Disposal of the feathers and other roughage posed yet another problem. Meanwhile, the woman who owned the hen had set out on a frantic search for the missing fowl. It still remains a mystery how she hit bull's eye by zeroing into our house and gate-crashed into the living room.
Almost screaming, she accused my brother of having "stolen" her bird. Unaware of what had really happened behind her back, our mother rubbished the charge and defended 'R' to the hilt.
Nevertheless, the chicken meat had to come out of the bag. And it did! Reluctantly, 'R' took it out. Our mother was shocked. Her son had lied and she felt cheated. He and the cousin were both reprimanded. Declaring that the act was unpardonable, she forced the two to wrap the chicken in its own feathers and dump the stuff somewhere far away.
As 'R' went to dispose the concealed chicken meat, the same woman happened to pass by. Seeing the two boys, she muttered just two words - Murghi Chor, which means chicken thief. Discretion being the better part of valour, the red-faced boys did not react and hurried their way to the nearest pail depot. The 'stuff' was eventually dumped.
The two boys returned home with a long face grieving - not over the bird but over the end of a long cherished craving.
Lalit Raizada is a journalist based in India.
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