Rishiraj's blog

How do I eat Meat being a Brahmin

I was recently at a Google's dinner party in Bali, Indonesia when someone from Pakistan pointed at my plate and whispered, "Wait, aren't you a Hindu? How are you eating chicken?"

It is a question I get often. It comes from the same place as the question about my atheism. People like to put Hinduism in a neat little box.

But just as I told my father that you can be a Hindu and an atheist, I have to tell my friends: Yes, you can be even a Brahmin and eat meat. In fact, if you look at our history and our geography, the idea that all Hindus must be vegetarians is a relatively recent myth.

The Myth of the "Vegetarian Religion"

Where did this idea come from? If you go to the US or the UK, the image of the Hindu is often shaped by the immigrant communities there. Many early Indian immigrants were Jains, Gujaratis, or South Indian Brahmins - communities that historically practice strict vegetarianism.

Then came the Yoga boom. In the West, Yoga was packaged with a lifestyle that promoted "Sattvic" (pure/calm) food like salads and fruits, and rejected "Rajasic" (passionate/excited) food like meat. Slowly, the world started believing that to be Hindu meant to be vegetarian.

But this ignores the reality of India. According to recent data, nearly 70% of Indians eat meat in some form. To say Hinduism is purely vegetarian is to erase the culture of the majority of Hindus.

Geography Over Scripture

Hinduism isn't ruled by a Pope; it is ruled by geography.

If you go to South India, the Brahmins there have a long tradition of being strict vegetarians. They were the scholars and mathematicians who migrated to cities early on, creating the stereotype of the "Curd-Rice Brahmin."

But travel to the East, to Bengal or Odisha, and the rules flip. In Bengal, a Brahmin wedding is incomplete without fish. They even have a clever workaround where they call fish "Jal Pushpa" (flower of the water) to make it ritually acceptable. They sacrifice goats to Goddess Kali.

Go North to Kashmir. The Kashmiri Pandits, who are Shaivites (worshippers of Shiva), have always eaten meat. They offer meat to Bhairava, a fierce form of Shiva.

So, who is the "real" Brahmin? The one eating Idli in Chennai or the one eating Rogan Josh in Srinagar? The answer is both.

What Does History Say? (The Vedas and Mahabharata)

If we stop listening to modern politicians and start reading our ancient texts, things get even more interesting.

The Rig Veda, our oldest text, is full of references to animal sacrifice and consumption. The Vedic gods, especially Indra, were not mild-mannered yogis sipping herbal tea. Indra is described as having a voracious appetite for the meat of bulls and the intoxicating drink, Soma. The Ashvamedha Yajna (Horse Sacrifice) was a ritual of kings. You cannot have a history of animal sacrifice and claim a history of eternal vegetarianism.

Even the sages weren't exempt. There is a famous story of Sage Agastya. The demon Ilvala tried to kill the sage by feeding him his brother, Vatapi, who had turned into a goat. The plan was for Vatapi to burst out of Agastya’s stomach. But Agastya, knowing the trick, simply digested the meal, effectively eating the demon.

While modern Vaishnavism depicts Krishna as strictly vegetarian, there is a specific section in the Mahabharata called the Vyadha Gita (The Butcher's Song). A pompous Brahmin ascetic, proud of his fasting and rituals, is told to go learn true Dharma from a butcher. The Brahmin is shocked to find his teacher selling meat in a bloody market.

The butcher teaches the Brahmin that Dharma isn't about what you eat or what rituals you perform; it is about doing your duty honestly and serving your parents. The butcher was attaining the same spiritual heights as the ascetic, despite his "unclean" profession.

The Hunter and the Priest

One of my favorite stories about this comes from the Tamil tradition, regarding Kannappa Nayanar.

The story goes that there was a Shiva temple in the forest. A strict Brahmin priest visited every morning. He performed the perfect rituals, chanting the right mantras and offering fresh flowers.

But a tribal hunter also visited the temple. He didn't know Sanskrit or rituals. He just loved Shiva. He would bring the best meat from his hunt. He carried water in his mouth (because his hands were full) and spat it onto the Lingam to bathe it. He offered the meat, which he had chewed first to test if it was tender enough.

The priest saw the leftovers the next day - bones and chewed meat - and was disgusted. He thought the temple was being desecrated.

Shiva decided to test them. One day, the Shiva Lingam began to bleed from its eye. The priest, terrified by this bad omen, ran away. The hunter, however, panicked out of love. He tried to stop the bleeding with herbs. When that failed, he gouged out his own eye to replace Shiva’s. Then Shiva’s second eye began to bleed. The hunter put his foot on the idol to mark the spot and prepared to gouge out his remaining eye.

Shiva appeared and stopped him. The hunter, who offered "impure" meat, was the superior devotee because his offering was made with total love, while the priest was obsessed with rules.

The Problem with "Purity"

So, why the obsession with vegetarianism today? It often has less to do with non-violence (Ahimsa) and more to do with ego and caste superiority.

We often confuse "Pure" with "Superior." Many people use their diet as a badge of honor. They look down on meat-eaters as "polluted." This is the same logic that created Untouchability - the idea that dealing with blood or death makes a human being lesser.

But is a vegetarian businessman who exploits his workers and pollutes the river truly practicing Ahimsa? Is a soldier who eats meat to build strength for protecting his country "bad"?

Ahimsa means not causing harm in thought, word, and deed. Farming kills millions of insects, rodents, and snakes. The tea we drink comes from land cleared of forests. Violence is inherent in existence. To think that simply cutting out chicken makes you a saint is a delusion.

Conclusion

Hinduism is a search for truth, not a checklist of dietary restrictions.

The Goddess Durga eats meat. Shiva accepts whatever is offered. Vishnu, in his incarnation as Rama, hunted deer. If the Gods are not bound by these rules, why should I be?

I eat meat because it is part of my culture, my region, and my choice. I don't let a narrow definition of "Brahmin" define my Dharma. Just like the butcher in the Mahabharata, I believe my conduct matters more than my kitchen.

You can worship the divine with a flower, or you can worship with a feast. The food is just matter; the devotion is what counts.