A Vegetarian's Non-Vegetarian Dinner

The saddest man at the dinner table at a Muslim wedding is perhaps the one who calls himself a ‘total vegetarian.’ He’ll find there’s nothing on the table before him that can be called as ‘vegetarian’ even remotely. Fortunately I do not call myself a ‘total’ vegetarian nor I intended to be any more sad than I am. In situations like this where I do not have any choice I eat non-veg stuff without qualms. Last week I was in such a situation. I broke a personal rule and tasted several tasty delicacies at a dinner at a wedding. We had worked together in another Department earlier and later at Nalgonda. So even though the venue was somewhere far away I went to the trouble of going several kilometres out of the way just to attend the marriage of the daughter of a colleague in the Department..

An important thing to remember about Muslim weddings, especially in Hyderabad, is that they begin quite late in the evening. I failed to keep it in mind and hence landed at the venue rather too early, so early that apart from me there was only another person who just reached. Luckily, he was another colleague who worked with me at Suryapet. So I sat talking with him for quite a long time. I did not notice that two hours had passed and the marriage party had yet to come. My colleague was so excited at thought I was posted at the Secretariat that when others asked where I was now, my friend told them rather proudly that I was at the Secretariat like it was the Pentagon.

Ultimately, it was eleven in the night when I sat down for dinner with my colleague. On the table were spread an astonishing variety of dishes. There were large bowls filled with chicken curry, fish fry, mutton biryani, another mutton dish, two varieties of roti, raita, two varieties of dessert and other stuff I did not even recognise. There wasn’t a single thing a vegetarian could eat without feeling guilty. Those at the table were already attacking the food with gusto and giving me odd looks. I was damn hungry and decided to go the whole hog. Until I finished the dinner I forgot I was a vegetarian. The kheer was the best dish and I had it in the end. Afterwards we had a cup of Irani chai that taste of which still lingers. It was the perfect chai but there was still something I felt was lacking - a paan.

It was almost midnight when we hit the road. I looked for some place where I could get a paan to round off the fine meal. Everything was shut down and I almost lost hope and was reconciled to going to sleep without tasting a paan. But I was lucky. Near home a paan shop was open, its shutter open just a few inches. The guy bent down and peered out to ask what I wanted. When I told him I wanted a paan he quickly made one and gave it to me. Only after I put the paan in my mouth not only did I feel like I would be able to digest all the stuff I had eaten I also felt glad that I had something leafy for dinner even if it was just a paan.