I killed my own food.
“You have to kill to survive. People have been doing it forever. I eat meat, and I eat fish. If I were on a deserted island I would need that to survive.”
— — — Benicio Del Toro
I am sitting in my room from a shower. The hair is wet, my feet are moist and I am observing at a recent act of killing a fish.
I killed a fish that me and my friends caught on our recent fishing trip. We caught a big catfish. In an instant, I knew I had to kill this creature because I am an ignorant and arrogant human being who doesn’t respect nor cares about how he gets his meat.
In spite of the so-called “humane” feelings of not harming others, I knew for a fact that if I am consuming any kind of meat product that means I am a part of an inhumane act. So what makes me assume a higher moral ground? If I do not even accept the fact that I am killing many creatures from different hands and preparing them from different hands.
So I hammered a knife on the fish’s head and hammered it repeatedly until I severed its head. The blood was spilling all over the floor. I observed my trembling hand and a racing heart.
I realized, “I took a life”.
I put the head aside then ripped the guts out of the fish. The body was still warm. I took a moment of silence to be aware of this piece of life. Without any sorrow to take it nor desire to have it. I simply stood still to take in this experience of killing a piece of life.
I shared a similar dilemma about consuming meat in my previous chapter but this was a step deeper. To actively kill a piece of life was truly terrifying and somewhat enlightening.
I still remember the sensations in my hand. That slippery feel on its skin, the smell, the vibration of the strikes, and the cuts on its body.
Now some people will find this act to be gruesome and monstrous. But for those Nobel people who consume meat, we are not any different from a farmer who raises them, the butcher who slaughters them, the cook who prepares them and finally you who forks them.
Just because you do not see the killing doesn’t mean you are not a part of the killing.
My take on killing my food makes me accept my role in its killing. I am aware of the killing and give my respect to the life who shall become a part of this body. Suddenly I remember a ritual that my grandfather used to practice before eating every time.
He used to take a leaf from the garden and put a tiny portion of his food as an offering. As a child, I was always amused by this act and was very fond of it. But maybe he was offering his gratitude to the food he was consuming.
Now please do not misunderstand my take as if I am shaming meat consumers. That is not my intension. Neither am I promoting a vegetarian diet. Being a vegetarian means we erase the emotional and digestive complexities but beyond that, I have no experience. And for those proud vegetarians, our ancestors wouldn’t have survived in a purely vegan diet. I understand the optionality modern life has offered in our food choices and you are free to ridicule my stand.
My take on this article is the price of that fish is not 9$, 10$, 1500$, or whatever dollars. That piece of life is worth my gratitude. The price of the fish is accepting my role in killing it. That piece of protein did not fall from the sky. It was born, it grew and it was served. But to take it as just another piece of protein is utter arrogance and fucking ignorance.
There is no such thing as humane killing.
So what do I do now? I am somewhat disturbed about killing a fish but I knew it was necessary. Will I keep killing animals? well, not directly but I will still be a part of the killing. But what if I get out of this whole process?
Next time before you have your fried fish remember to say, “This is my food and I killed a life for it. Thank you.”
