In my years as a farmer, I’ve seen many things that make me laugh—not because they’re funny, but because they’re so obviously hypocritical that laughter is the only sane reaction.
Let’s talk about meat. And religion. And who does what before your biryani reaches the plate.
Most of the animal farms in my region—whether they rear cows, goats, chickens, ducks, or fish—are run by Hindus. That’s right. The people feeding, vaccinating, and raising these animals are mostly Hindu farmers, like me.
Now, who buys these animals for slaughter? Predominantly Muslim butchers. They do the cutting, the cleaning, and the dressing—something many of us Hindus would never do ourselves, for religious or cultural reasons. But we’re perfectly okay selling them the animal. Business is business.
The next stop? The meat finds its way into restaurants. And guess what? Most of those biryani joints are owned by—you guessed it—Hindus again. They turn that goat or chicken into masala magic, advertised with pride: Best Hyderabadi Biryani in Town! Their clientele? Mostly Hindu families lining up on weekends, plates full, tongues on fire, hearts content.
So let’s break it down:
• A Hindu raises the animal.
• A Muslim slaughters it.
• A Hindu cooks it.
• A Hindu eats it.
• And then some of them go home and post angry WhatsApp forwards about halal meat conspiracies.
This is the great Indian secularism of the stomach. We might debate over temples and mosques, riot over cows and beef, but we forget that at the end of the day, hunger has no religion—and profit certainly doesn’t.
What makes it more ironic is how this quiet interdependence sustains not just local economies but entire food cultures. Yet, it’s never acknowledged. Instead, we wear our religion like a badge of moral superiority, even as we quietly benefit from the very people we villainize.
The next time you dig into that spicy biryani, maybe pause for a second and think about the invisible hands behind it. Maybe, just maybe, you’ll taste a bit of truth in the mix.