Soliloquy

If vegetarianism were to be an integral part of man’s social nature, it shall fall by the wayside soon enough. While killing a sentient being to fulfil one’s sensory nervous system may seem unintelligible to the devout, the concept of pleasure – so varied yet intense – intermingles one’s control and leaves no prominent residue behind.

Southeast Asia, widely Buddhist despite the presence of pockets of Islam, is perhaps the best example of how one’s cultural beliefs may not always shape their practical vision. In Indochina, where I am travelling now, it is quite apparent that religion maintains a wide berth from culinary joys and fastens its saddle upon the seductive decrees sent forth by modernity.

I experienced this first-hand in Saigon, where, dodging ways and means to understand what bo (beef), ca (fish) and thit ga (chicken) were, and how I was to avoid them without causing offence. Op la (omelette) and trung (eggs) were welcome, and with this – along with the usual pleasantries one exchanges with one’s hosts – I picked up a handful of Vietnamese.

From Saigon, the hodgepodge of culture, modernity and enterprise, I have now travelled northeast to Hue, the ancient city of the Nguyens. The emperor Tu Duc, who was a romantic but weak king, used to compose poems while travelling astride River Perfume every evening. Tu Duc was every inch the Zafar of Vietnam – their last king before the French invaded. I too shall write some poems in Hue.

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