Ahmed was a worried man. The butcher was well-known for his finest cut, in old-town Meerut. They came for his halal, it helped that his father was Imam at the local mosque. But they also came for the Jhatka, he could sever the head in one cold sweep and that made the customer happy, as the animal did not suffer… much. One of those mildly satisfying sentiments.
His second wife was expecting his third child. The child will share the room with the rest, the meat was free, and they could always milk the goat before killing the animal. But the doctor’s bill was to be paid, and in full. This was keeping him up the other night. It did not help that the dog, in the cemetery next door, would not stop barking. The moment he would fall asleep, a sudden howl would shake him up.
‘Bhen Chod kutta! (sister fucker dog!)’, he murmured, and then dozed off again.
‘Howwww, HOW! HOWW! HOWW! HOWW!’ the animal howled after a few moments.
‘Madarchod (motherfucker!)’, screamed Ahmed.
He wrapped his long loincloth around his waist, grabbed his knife, stepped outside and without missing a heartbeat, took a straight aim at the dog, and sadly did not miss. Ahmed removed its head, threw it away, and hung the rest of the carcass to age alongside the other dead cattle.
‘Pritam Singh da Dhaba’ was a stately restaurant, contrary to what the name might suggest. Pritam Singh had served the gora officers before independence and the plaque that said, ‘Dogs and Indians are not allowed’ could still be found somewhere in the attic. The past, did not matter to the patrons though, they frequented the place to enjoy their famous mutton biryani and not to start another revolution.
‘Did the goat get laid before you slaughtered it last night?’ Kartar Singh, could not hide his pleasure, ‘everyone was raving about the mutton tonight.’
Ahmed was scared like a chicken, but the compliment arrived just in time for him to regain himself.
‘Yeah, this was the mountain breed, my cousin wanted me to give it a try. It comes at a premium though.’
‘Of course it does mian, of course it does’
Ahmed could not distinguish between the burly Sardar’s glee and sarcasm.
‘I will tell you what, let’s try this breed for a while, and see how it goes.
‘Pritam Singh da Dhaba’ is always bustling with customers, they say one sample of that biryani and you would be hooked on for life.
Ahmed married for the third time last bakrid, he is expecting his fourth child.