Being Vegan

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People who find me avoiding non-veg often ask me, “Are you vegetarian?” I say, “Yes”.
“But you belong to a Bengali family.” “So?” “Are others in your family vegetarian too?” “No.”
The same set of odd questions are shot at me at least once a week. Ah! The most senseless question, “Don’t you feel that missing out on something great?” I never understood one thing, why do people overreact at this fact. Few of us are born vegan and some find a reason to choose to be vegan. The only reason I abandoned myself from such stuff at the age of seven is that I feel that I shouldn’t be ruthlessly eating the body of an animal who wanted to live. We are factory farming animals just for our own consumption. Apart from satisfying the burning desire of human beings, they don’t have a reason for their existence.
People who call themselves animal lovers, do you really love animals? Loving animals is simply opposite to consuming them. What are you trying to show by loving one and eating the other?
With the passage of time, I learnt that veganism is a way of life that is not forced on anyone. 🙂 Its you who has to realise the injustice, brutality and the offense.

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Anticipation of Santa

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Yes, I have grown up. Grown up enough to realise how stupid I was in my childhood. But there is something that I still cherish. Those wintry nights…
I wonder why my parents used to do this. Since Kinder Garten, I have been believing in Santa Claus. My parents used to say that if I studied well the whole year, Santa would be pleased, would reach me at midnight and place a gift next to my pillow while I am asleep. As I was too sincere to miss Santa’s gift, every 25th December morning I woke up to find chocolates next to me.
I started believing in Santa. I wondered how did he manage to reach my bed when all the doors of my house were locked during the night. Maybe he had duplicate keys to my main gate, but how did he unlock the doors? Is my roof removable with some screws attached to it which he uses his own technique to get into? No no, that’s not possible. Maybe he hides himself under my bed the previous day and I am unconscious about it. But still that’s not done, I mean he had to distribute gifts to other sincere children like me. So how would he escape in that case, and so on. I also tried to discuss it among my friends but they laughed at me. I wondered, Am I the most studious child among my friends? Numerous fantasies crept into and left through my mind about that old man. And finally, in std 8 I came to the conclusion that Santa is an angel and angels have the power to appear and vanish wherever and whenever they wish to. Even though I wasn’t confident about my assumption, I tried my level best to remain awake to watch out for that angel but my bad, I couldn’t.
At the age of fifteen, I got my mind setup, I was determined that I had to remain awake at any cost to break the suspense. But again I feared that Santa would go away if he comes to know that I am not asleep. So I pretended to be lost in my sleep. Later at night, I heard the creak sound of my door being opened. Oh damn! My dream has finally come true! And then I hear a conversation…
“Is she slept?” “Yes, obviously. Its 1 am.” “Let us keep it here and leave soon.” And the door got shut. Tears filled my closed eyes. My heart broke into pieces. It was my parents. How stupid have I been all these years that I believed in Santa. Was it a dream that I dreamt just now? I have been kept in such darkness and I never tried to come out of it? I cursed myself for being awake that night. I wish I had never got to know the truth.

Lost

I cannot forget that day which could have totally changed my life. I was five years old and that really shows my innocence.
It was the time I had went to visit a fair with my parents. We were having an enjoyable time. The crowd kept increasing. I found myself diverted. As the buzz increased more, my little finger missed the presence of that of my father’s. I started searching for my parents. I screamed and i shouted, but all I could see were unknown faces and hear unknown voices. A man nearby noticed me, he took me with himself to his shop. He asked me who I was, from where I had come and why was I crying constantly. Ignoring all his queries, I continued wailing. He was a salesman and he told me to stay at his shop and he assured me that my parents would find me soon, and he was right. After a while, my father appeared searching for me, and upon seeing me, took me in his arms. I was overjoyed. I clung to him tightly.Till this day, I fear about what would have happened if my father had not found me.