Somewhere along the moral highway of Indian society, we took a dangerous turn — one where we began to believe that a person’s diet could define their character. Particularly, we bestowed an invisible halo upon the “pure vegetarian.” The man or woman who doesn’t touch garlic, shuns onions, and treats egg as taboo — surely, we assume — must also be pure in thought, deed, and intention.
But let’s be brutally honest: character doesn’t grow in a vegetable patch.
Some of the most manipulative, cunning, and corrupt people I’ve come across in life have sworn by sattvic food and chanted Sanskrit shlokas before every meal. While their plates stayed green and clean, their dealings were anything but. They could orchestrate scams over soybeans and lie with a straight face after sipping tulsi tea.
There’s a certain irony in how our society elevates dietary choices to moral high ground. A man can cheat on his taxes, suppress his daughter-in-law, exploit workers, and lie through his teeth — but as long as he doesn’t eat chicken, he’s considered spiritually superior. He’ll quote the Bhagavad Gita between bribes and brag about his ‘ahimsa’ while mentally assassinating his competitors.
And let’s not forget how diet becomes a caste marker. “Pure veg” isn’t just a food preference in India — it’s a cultural caste signal. It’s often used as a silent way to imply “we’re purer, better, more evolved.” Never mind that purity doesn’t show up in one’s conduct — only on the menu.
This is not to say that non-vegetarians are saints either. Corruption isn’t the exclusive domain of any food group. But let’s drop this absurd assumption that vegetarians are inherently more virtuous.
Food goes to the stomach. Character lives in the spine.
Eat what you want — but don’t pretend your plate makes you pious. Goodness has nothing to do with greens.