Why chicken comes in packets at supermarkets

Chicken: common domestic fowl: a domestic fowl, usually with brown or black feathers and a fleshy crest on its head.
Latin name: Gallus domesticus

(By the way, I have a habit of rambling on and on... If you get bored, just scroll down to the end and read the answer)

Why does chicken come packed at the supermarket? This has been a question that puzzled me for quite some time. To most of the people living in cities, I suppose the definition of a chicken would have been pretty useful. In fact, even though I live in a relatively remote place, I seem to have seen more dead chickens than live ones. (Yes, they do exist as something other than what you see packed in neat plastic covers. No they don't come from a chicken plant... despite that being hard to believe).

Now where was I? Ah yes, the chicken. Now the chicken's been a part of our lives for quite some time. In fact, the chappie who gave it the fancy Latin name probably knew of this and rightly named it Gallus domesticus, which if you haven't noticed already, means it's a domestic something. Frankly, I think chickens were placed on the planet for us to eat. I mean, can you just imagine the ridiculous things running about in the wild? They'd be extinct before you could say "salami". We're doing them a favour you know? Preserving the species and stuff.

But I digress... so the chicken has been part of our diet for quite a while, and though we're eaten it for years together, we haven't quite got tired of it yet. I doubt the chicken is very happy about this, but if the daft thing is too stupid to run away, it isn't our fault is it? I mean, those large seemingly difficult to open mesh cages and stuff are just for show. If a chicken was really determined, it would've managed to get out by itself. It's just nature.

I was walking past one of these chicken shops yesterday. You know, the cheap ones that do the chopping in front of you? And it looked so gruesome that I felt I'd never eat again. The poor things didn't know what hit them. They're put into these tiny cages and stacked so tightly that they can't move. Then they're taken and they're killed. I've been avoiding that shop ever since. It makes me want to puke.

So.. Why does chicken come packaged in supermarkets? The answer is pretty simple... It's so that people like me who can't stand much violence to animals can still eat the chicken and have a good time without a guilty conscience.

The Road Not Taken

Something pretty interesting happened this morning.... Defying all laws of probability, I got lost on my way to school. I happened to miss the bus that morning (the result of my watch being fifteen minutes slow), and decided to leg it. Incidentally, this is something that happens often, but today I was a bit later than usual.

I started walking, and eventually reached a part where the road split into two. Feeling a bit like Frost, I looked down both of 'em as far as I could... One was pretty dusty and I ran the risk of getting run over by sand-lorries. The other one (having perhaps the better claim) was pretty nice, though a bit narrow and one that I hadn't used many times... Anyway, needless to say, I continued down the nicer road...

Now I'm pretty hazy as to what happened after that because I was deeply engrossed in calculating how much coil a pick-up would require... Maybe I took a wrong turning, or maybe I just didn't turn at all... I began to notice, after a while, that the larger houses seemed to give way to smaller houses until I was surrounded by lots of small huts.

Needless to say I was a bit confused, not to say embarrassed. I seemed the only chap in sight wearing a shirt, and people seemed to be watching me in an odd way. I was just wondering if they'd tie me up and roast me when one of the chaps who was brushing his teeth asked me if I wanted to go anywhere in particular. Looking warily at him, I told him where I had to get to. He looked around and pointed towards what I thought was a dead end (which was actually a pile of garbage) and told me to go down that way and take a right. I climbed over and took a right and promptly found myself surrounded by high shrubs and in the sort of scenery you'd expect from Jurassic Park.

I looked over my options.: I could go back, but I risked being laughed at by the tooth-brusher... Or I could die here and/or get eaten by some remnant of the Jurassic age. Of the two, the latter seemed more attractive (seriously, you should have seen that guy.. nice enough chap, but still..). It was here that I noticed the drunk.

He was looking at me, and I had the feeling I had interrupted his up until then peaceful leak. Nevertheless, I asked him for directions. He pointed to a short wall that had hitherto gone unnoticed. He told me that all I had to do was climb over it and walk straight towards the two houses at the distance. His directions seemed sane, which was more than I could say for him.

I tentatively looked over the wall. It was short enough, and so I climbed across... Sadly it was only when I was at the top that I noticed that the other side was not as close to me as this was. Having no other alternative than to be laughed at by the drunk, I jumped down and suffered no (major) injuries. The field in front of me now was, and I'm not exaggerating, wet. I folded up my jeans to the knee and continued walking in the general direction of the road.

Now I don't suppose I would be asking for too much to hope that what looks like firm ground continue to be firm ground irrespective of if I'm on it or not. I do not believe I'm exaggerating when I say I was quite surprised when I suddenly found myself knee deep in a hole filled with water, where I imagined land.... Dunno how it happened. Probably got something to do with quantum. Cussing and muttering at all depressions of any sort, I climbed out and continued walking...

The rest of the journey was pretty boring. Turns out the drunk gave the best directions and I found myself a little distance away from the school... I was a bit late, but nobody noticed, so I don't suppose it mattered.

She said she wanted to go to the beach...

She said she wanted to go to the beach. I told her for the umpteenth time that it was a waste of time. She asked me why was I so against the beach, and I replied it was because of the sharks. She said I had nothing to worry about, since the sharks hadn't bitten anyone at the beach for years. I replied that that was precisely the point. I mean what's the use of going to the beach if you can't see a decent shark-goring-innocent-beach-goer scene? She told me she didn't know why she'd married me, and I reminded her that I was rich.

She told me that going to the beach would be a good way to spend the weekend. I told here there was nothing there that we couldn't get in our backyard. She told me, yes there was and where was I going to get a beach in our backyard? I told her I'd leave the hose running and take some sand from the kitty-litter and spray it around. She told that would be different. I asked her how. She replied that, for a start, there wouldn't be any salty air. I told her that I was willing to throw an entire bag of salt into the air. She told me to stop fooling around, and that the beach was a good place to enjoy oneself. I asked her but what of the sharks? She replied that there wouldn't be any of them around, and I told her that it wouldn't be much enjoyment without seeing anyone being eaten alive by sharks. She told me I was a perverted, sadistic man. I pointed out to her that her brother was a lawyer who'd be glad to handle a divorce.

She told me that the beach would be a good place to expose the kids to other people, and I told her I wasn't going to risk them seeing a man being eaten by a shark. She told me there wouldn't be any damn sharks in the beach and I replied ah, but then we aren't going, are we? She told me that the sand and the salty water would be good for my health. I replied that I hated it when the sand got into my underwear, and I wouldn't go near the water for all the gold in the world. She asked me why not, and I replied it's because of the sharks. She told me if I loved her, I'd take her to the beach.

So we're going to the beach now. But I've taken a pair of binoculars with me just in case. You never know when a shark could decide to eat some unsuspecting person. I could be lucky today.

Exercise

I was at my native village for the vacation, spending time at my grandparent's house. It was a change from the strict boarding school atmosphere and one that I welcomed. I hadn't been here for a long time, and only had hazy memories of my last visit, but it was amazing how everyone here knew who I was. I couldn't walk down the street without someone telling me how much I had grown or narrating some curious incident that happened the last time I was here.

Something that I had gotten used to in boarding school was beginning the day with an early morning jog. So it was only natural that I got up early the next morning, put on my tracks, t-shirt and jogging shoes, and stepped out of the house. Standing at the door I took a deep breath and looked around. In the cool light of the morning I could see the farmers getting on their cycles, ready to go to their fields.

Smiling to myself, I began jogging down the cart-track. Before long I heard a cycle bell behind me, and turned to see a farmer pedalling frantically after me. Confused, I stopped and turned around.

" Are chota sahib, where are you off to so early in the morning and in such a hurry?" He asked, looking concerned. "Here, take my cycle. You will get there faster if you use it."

It took me a bit of time to explain it to him. I don't think I'll ever forget the incredulous look he had on his face throughout the ordeal.

Banished From Eden

The hill looked beautiful from the distance, with the flowers covering it in a blanket of purple. I simply had to see what it was like up close and so I began to walk towards it. Up close, with the flowers completely covering it, it looked even more spectacular and the sight held me completely mesmerised. The sheer magnificence of the hill drove me to try to climb it.

Folding my dhoti, I began climbing. The branches of the plants and their flowers brushed against my bare chest. Nothing that I had ever seen was as beautiful than this.

Reaching the top I breathed a sigh and looked around me. For miles around all I could see was the purple of the flowers fading into the blue of the skies. To my left, however, I saw a strange sight: A man was kneeling by the flowers and plucking them one by one, looking at them and throwing them away, as he muttered under his breath. The man himself looked strange: He was wearing sahibs' clothes and looked totally out of place here.

Filled with curiosity, let down my dhoti and respectfully went up to him and asked him what he was doing.

With hardly a side-ward glance, the man simply replied "The perfect flower. It must be around here somewhere." He then took another and examining it closely, threw it away muttering something about the petals.

I stood and watched him for a while, thinking. Then I turned around and walked back down the hill disconsolately. I didn't bother to look around. I knew I'd never appreciate the flowers ever again. Behind me, the man continued to pick flower after flower.