As Promised by Raja

“Abba[1] when are we going to get our goat? It’s so close to Eid-ul-Adha [2]now,” Majeed’s three children ran up to him excitedly as soon as he entered the house. Over the past two weeks their insistence on getting a qurbani[3] animal had gained momentum as Eid-ul-Adha drew near. 

“Yes, we’ll get it soon enough. Let me catch my breath first,” Majeed replied as he slumped into the three-seater sofa in the simply furnished family room. 

“But Abba, it’s getting very late,” Sameer, his fourteen-year-old son sat at his feet on the small dhurrie. “My friend Amjad was telling me that the animals are getting more expensive by the hour.”

“Yes, my friend Gul was saying the same thing,” added twelve-years-old Hina. “And also, if we get our goat sooner, we can take care of it longer and walk it around in the evenings like all the other kids in the neighborhood.”

“Enough of this animal talk,” Ruqaya entered the room with a cup of tea for her husband. “No sooner does your father enter the house that you all surround him like flies. He’s looking for a good deal and when he finds it, you’ll get your goat.” 

Sameer, Hina, and Ahmed got up with glum faces. 

“I think you’re just going to keep saying that until it’s the day before Eid,” eight-year-old Ahmed said in a disappointed tone, “and then we won’t get any goat or lamb.”

“Yes, and we’ll end up getting a share in someone’s cow, like we do every year, instead of our own animal ,” Hina sighed. 

“No, my jaan[4],” Majeed patted Ahmed’s head, saddened by the despondency in his young son’s voice. “I’ll definitely try to get a goat or lamb this time, even if just a small one. Just you see.” 

Ahmed’s eyes lit up with expectation. “Promise Abba?” he asked gleefully. 

“I will do my best,” Majeed smiled.

The three children left the room, chattering gleefully. 

Majeed sighed. If just the mere promise of an animal was making his children so happy, he could only imagine their joy at actually getting one for real. 

 Despite his average earnings, Majeed did try his best to fulfill his children’s greatest wish on Eid-ul-Adha but the prices of animals were skyrocketing, making it next to impossible for lower-middle class households to afford their own animal anymore. The only viable option for these families was to get a small share in a cow to at least complete their religious obligation of qurbani.

“Why do you make promises you can’t keep?” Ruqaya sat next to him. “You should have told them how we cannot afford an animal but only a share in one.”

“Eid-ul-Adha is all about animals and the fun of qurbani,” Majeed replied ruefully. “I hate not being able to afford even one small goat for my children to experience the true essence of Eid.”

“Don’t worry so much,” Ruqaya told him. “Sameer and Hina are old enough now to understand the monetary situation. Ahmed is young but he can be distracted. You know we have a very tight budget with all of their educational expenses.”

“Ruqaya, I was thinking about calling Raja,” Majeed said thoughtfully.

“Who? Your friend who lives somewhere near Hyderabad[5] ?” Ruqaya was surprised. “Why?”

“Many people at my office who have families in smaller towns and villages get qurbani animals from there since they are much cheaper there than in the larger cities,” Majeed told her. “Maybe Raja can get me a good deal from a farm too.”

“That’s a good idea,” Tahira sat up, feeling a little stirring of excitement. “But you don’t know the name of his village.” Though she never told Majeed, but she too hated making excuses to friends and neighbors every year as to why there was never a sacrificial animal at their house on Eid-ul-Adha.

“I don’t need the name of the village,” Majeed replied. “I think I have his number.” He was already swiping the contact list on his cell phone. Ruqaya fervently hoped that the number Majeed had still worked. Raja was not someone Majeed was regularly in touch with. 

Majeed not only found the number but also called Raja right away. The result was most encouraging. Raja had started his own highly successful cattle business and he had very low-priced goats available on which he was willing to give on additional discount to Majeed ‘because they were old friends’.  

“You called me at a very good time,” Raja told him. “I’ll deliver the goat to you too since I have to deliver three more to Karachi tomorrow.”

Majeed was ecstatic. This was better than he had hoped. 

“So, have you booked a butcher for the goat yet?” Raja asked him. Getting a sacrificial animal was one thing but getting it properly slaughtered and cut was a whole different headache. 

“Book a butcher?” Majeed was bewildered. “Why would I need to book one? I’m sure I’ll find someone to come and slaughter the goat since many butchers are going house to house on Eid day.” 

Raja laughed. “No, my dear naive Majjoo,” he said, “that’s not how it works nowadays. Butchers are a hot commodity on Eid-ul-Adha and unless you book one ahead of time, you’ll end up paying a king’s ransom just to get your animal sacrificed properly and in time.” 

Since Majeed and Ruqaya had always taken a share in a cow for qurbani, they had no idea how to handle their very own animal. Majeed was therefore quite thankful to Raja for giving him all the tips. 

“The other thing you can do, if you want to save money, is to let me slaughter it for you,” Raja offered. “I have my own butchers here. On Eid afternoon, I’ll pick up the eight or nine goats I have delivered to Karachi and bring them back to the village, slaughter and cut them at a far cheaper rate, and then deliver the cut meat back the next day.”

“But won’t the goats get mixed up?” Majeed was slightly apprehensive. 

But Raja put all his apprehensions to rest. “Majjoo, just trust Raja,” he reassured him. “I personally supervise the slaughtering, pack the meat in boxes marked clearly with owners’ names, and deliver them to the right homes. There has never been a mix-up. Plus, this will also eliminate the usual mess of blood and gore from your yard and patio."

The deal was too good to refuse. Ruqaya was elated beyond words too. Getting an animal on Eid-ul-Adha did wonders for a household’s social status on the occasion. 

The next afternoon, as promised by Raja, a robust, plump and feisty goat was delivered to Majeed and Ruqaya’s house. In truth, they were taken aback to see the healthy, large animal with clean shiny coat and sharp, bright eyes, ‘maah’ ‘maah’ing’ loudly. It was a steal for the amount they had paid for it and the joy it brought their little family was invaluable. In fact, in comparison to a lot of other goats they saw tied outside several homes in their neighborhood, which had been making their children so envious, their goat was far better looking. With their faces beaming exuberantly and their necks stiff with pride, Sameer, Hina, and Ahmed immediately named their handsome qurbani goat Baboo and promptly took him for a show-off-walk around the street. Baboo was to stay with them for a good five days before he was slaughtered. 

Ruqaya, just as proud as her children, made it a point to ‘hint’ to her friends and close family that they too would be doing a goat qurbani for Eid that year. A qurbani of a goat was impressive piece of news indeed given the soaring prices. Most of her friends and family were relegated to taking shares in cows. However, Ruqaya took care not to reveal how they had procured the animal. No harm in letting people think that she and Majeed had spent a grand sum of money on it. 

“So, should your brother and I expect a whole leg of goat from you after your qurbani?” Ruqaya’s sister-in-law Zahra unsuccessfully tried to keep the envy out of her voice. 

“Of course, Zahra Bhabi[6],” Ruqaya replied sweetly. “I will have Majeed tell the butcher to leave the legs whole.” Indeed, Eid-ul-Adha was a real celebration only with one’s own qurbani animal. 

On the day of Eid, the children were more excited about their qurbani and for the fun they were going to have distributing the meat packets than they were about their new clothes. Early in the evening, Raja arrived in his Suzuki pickup truck, true to his promise, collecting all the qurbani goats he had delivered earlier in the week to various homes. This was an added perk for Ruqaya; not having to deal with cleaning the huge mess of blood and gore, and dispensing with the inner organs, head, and animal skin left by butchers who did the slaughtering and cutting out in the front patio or veranda, as was customary. She made it a point to convey this little piece of news to her neighbors and family too. They were impressed; Ruqaya was getting her goat reliably butchered on order through Majeed’s very good friend who had a trustworthy cattle raising and slaughtering business. Plus, the cost was far less than what the local butchers were charging. 

On the second day of Eid, the family duly received Baboo back, all slaughtered and ready for distribution. Upholding his promise of reliability, Raja had promptly arrived at their house in his Suzuki pickup in the afternoon to deliver three cardboard boxes of cut meat. Majeed had opened a box and inspected the red, fresh looking meat with strong smell. 

“Smell the meat, Majeed,” Raja held up a piece near Majeed’s nose. “Notice the smell? This is from all the fresh grass and natural ingredients the cattle eat in the village. Not like the junk they feed the city animals nowadays.”

Majeed was most admiring of Raja’s expertise with animals.

Refusing the offer of tea and sweets, Raja rushed off since he had more deliveries to make. Sameer and Ahmed helped Majeed bring the boxes inside where Ruqaya had polythene bags ready to start packing. Majeed and Ruqaya had already made a list of households where the meat was to be distributed. As per religious guidelines, a family’s sacrifice had to be equally divided into three portions; one for the family itself, one for friends and family, and one for the needy in the community. 

Since the children were very eager to distribute to their friends and family who lived at walking distance, Ruqaya made several small bags quickly and put them in a basket. The two boys rushed off excitedly with them. Ruqaya and Hina continued to make the remaining bags.

Suddenly Hina exclaimed loudly. Startled, Ruqaya looked up to see her daughter holding up a tough, grey colored piece of skin or cartilage that resembled a portion of an animal ear.

“Ammi, Baboo had dark brown ears!” Hina said in a loud voice. “This doesn’t look like Baboo's ear.” 

Curious, Ruqaya took the piece of skin from her daughter’s hand and inspected it closely. She then yelled for Majeed who was at the gate keeping an eye out for the boys. 

“What is it?” Majeed came inside. In response, Ruqaya held up the incriminating piece of evidence. Majeed felt his feet go cold. 

“This doesn’t look like it belongs to Baboo,” she told him. “I think Raja Bhai[7] got the boxes mixed up.”

 Majeed didn’t reply. He had grabbed a polythene bag and was scooping large portions of meat from each of the boxes into it. He then snatched the grey piece of skin from Ruqaya’s hand and strode out. 

“Where are you off to?” Ruqaya called after him, bewildered. Hina had also watched her father in surprise. 

“I’ll be back soon,” Majeed replied hastily. “And don’t distribute any more meat until I get back.”

Almost frantic with haste, Majeed arrived at the meat store in the nearby market and was relieved to find Afzal the butcher there. 

“Eid Mubarak[8], Majeed Bhai,” Afzal greeted him cheerily. “Have you brought my share of qurbani?” he joked. 

“I have a question Afzal,” Majeed ignored the greeting and handed Afzal the meat bag. “What do you think about the quality of this meat?” 

Afzal took the bag and opened it. He took a deep whiff of the meat and then carefully inspected several random pieces from the top and bottom of the bag. "Where did you get this?” he asked Majeed cautiously. 

“Someone sent it to my house as qurbani meat,” Majeed couldn’t possibly tell him it was his own goat. He then handed Afzal the grey ear. “This was also in it. It seems like it belongs to a very sick goat.”

Afzal laughed out loud. “I don’t know if the animal was sick or not, Majeed Bhai,” he said merrily, “but it was most certainly not a goat. Majeed Bhai, this is a donkey’s ear and donkey meat.” He waved the little piece of shriveled cartilage in front of Majeed’s pale face. 

Majeed felt his legs turn to rubber. He leaned against the counter, stunned. He had desperately been hoping that he was mistaken and that it was rather a case of swapped goats than a different breed of animal altogether. But Afzal had confirmed his worst fear.  

“A…a…donkey?” Majeed stammered. “Are you sure?”

“My three generations have been butchers Majeed Bhai,” Afzal said. “Even if you hadn’t given me the ear, I could tell by that certain smell and that specific grain of meat. I hope you haven’t eaten any of it?” Afzal was suddenly concerned that Majeed and his family might have ingested the religiously prohibited meat. 

The white faced Majeed quietly shook his head. His family hadn’t consumed it, but for the life him, he couldn't figure out what he was to do about the meat his sons were happily distributing around the neighborhood at the very moment. 

           After telling Afzal to get rid of the meat bag, Majeed immediately whipped out his phone and dialed Raja’s number. There was a recording at the other end. 

     ‘The number you are trying to reach is no longer in service…’

Several people in Karachi were dialing the same number fervently and were listening horrifically to the same recording as Majeed.

[1] Dad. 

[2] Larger of the two main Islamic holidays symbolized by animal slaughter. Eid-ul-Adha means ‘Feast of Sacrifice’.

[3]  Sacrifice.   

[4] Darling.  

[5] A city 3 hours northeast of Karachi. 

[6] Brother’s wife. 

[7] Brother. 

[8] Customary greeting for the occasion of Eid.