Picking bones and beef
Why do men like Qurbani? Why wouldn't they? There's a manly slaughter, lots of beef and sweets to eat and of course there's the whole deal where we get to carry a machete around like real wise guys. It's also the only day when we can go anywhere with bloodied clothes, feeling like Rambo in 2008. So, why on Earth would we not like Qurbani? While the tree-huggers will be ready to state their list of greatest reasons, there's a reason why they are called tree-huggers to begin with; no one takes them seriously. But supposing we did, would we say that they really have a point?
The first argument against the way we conduct the sacrifice is the massacre-effect (aka majkar) we leave behind on the roads where we choose to do our bloody deed. Apparently, we shouldn't do the slaughtering on the road and rather go to a slaughter house. Here's where a Dhakaiya will ask you what a slaughterhouse is because let's face it, we have never seen any.
Logicians posit using our garages for the task. Please tell me how that makes sense. Are we supposed to park our cars on the road? Would a heavily trafficked road be to your liking or would you just go and moan and whine about that as well? Also, why would I move a 20 lakh taka car out on the streets for a two lakh taka cow? Yes, two lakh is what a cow ought to cost, because anything less and you might as well buy a chicken.
Which brings us to the second argument; the amount of money spent. This is the laughable part; buy a cell-phone for the same amount and people will congratulate you on having the determination and hard-working ethics to spend your father's money but spend it on a cow and people instantly lose their minds.
Double standards is only way to describe this behaviour but then again we are addressing a bunch of hypocrites. More important than the price tag of our cow is of course the size. No one wants a pint-sized cow because Qurbani Eid is the best month to overcompensate, so why should we miss out on that opportunity? Everybody knows that the bigger your cow, the better you are as a businessman or an upstanding member of society. These are facts.
The most devastating blow though is when we are nonchalantly told that our sacrifice is not a true sacrifice but rather all just for show. It's almost as if having spent my millions to buy a towering cow injected with more steroids than Hulk Hogan in the 80s is all just a big ego-trip. Well, it's not. A big cow means more meat and more meat means more sharing and after all, nothing beats the feel-good factor induced when handing a carefully wrapped piece of meat to the ravished crowd of underprivileged people ready to riot for some meat.
Granted, handed is a slight exaggeration; we generally toss it in the blur of moving bodies and see who gets to be the lucky one. You cannot play favourites when it comes to poor people and must give each an equal chance and that's what the meat-tossing embodies. When did a tree ever thank you for saving it? For that matter, when did a cow ever really thank you for whatever it is that you are failing to do? Never, and that's because even they don't care.
We all are sent on this earth to serve a purpose. Our purpose is to eat cows and a cow's purpose is to give us meat. It's symbiosis or something. If we didn't eat cows, would they even have a reason to remain alive? Would anyone pay good money to merely conserve cows for the sole sake of conservation? Highly debatable!
For all my real men, who know the testosterone is about to get pumped, turn a deaf ear to these naysayers and hippies. No guilt stands in the way of a good liver and you can take that guarantee to the bank.
By Osama Rahman