I wouldn’t have been so greatly aware of being vegetarian - and the consequences of it - had it not been for the effect it seems to have on hard-core meat eaters I encounter from time to time. When I gave up eating meat at the age of 11 or 12, it was a plain, matter-of-fact decision that my parents whole-heartedly encouraged even though they were non-vegetarian. If it has now - and in this piece - attained dramatic proportions I would put the blame squarely on the kind of alarmed reactions I have received in this matter.

In fact, I often struggle to remember how I managed to ward off the oh-my-god-how-do-you-stand-being-a-vegetarian looks shot at me through my teenage years, a presumably more delicate age than at the moment. However, it seems worse now than ever. Somehow - and I’m sure many of you non-veggies would know where this is coming from - self-declared meat-lovers just don’t seem to be able to digest that it is wholly possible to enjoy food in all its glory, so to speak, while being vegetarian.

If I have ever suggested that I could eat all day long, or that I love to try out new places to eat, or that I find the idea of food trails extremely exciting - it never really goes down well with the meat-eaters. Their now predictable response is, while scoffing, - “What? How can you claim to ‘love’ food if you don’t eat meat?” If there is a worse question someone can ask me at that seething moment, it is, “So you probably are a big paneer-eater?” For the record, I am not. And not because I don’t like paneer per say, but because I have been stuffed to death with it over the years since it’s considered the next-best thing to chicken everywhere I go.

On days when I am in a pleasant enough mood to explain, I say gently, “I seriously like most vegetables. I enjoy eating and cooking them. I’m not fussy when it comes to the kind that people usually avoid - lauki, tori, saag, kathal.” There is either a resigned sigh at that explanation or a completely unconvinced stare. Not that it would it would bother me ordinarily, but the repeated pity I have received at many-a-meals - from aquaintances to colleagues to those I have met not more than once - has sort of put me in a place where I would rather keep this piece of news to myself. Unless, of course, I’m asked vehemently why I’m not keen on chicken tikka or why Karim’s isn’t on my list of favourite places.

It gets progessively worse. If I happen to mention that I am partly Bengali, then a “You are a Bengali vegetarian???? Goodness, the first I’ve met!” is not an unusual response. And oh, if I go on to point out that I actually like Bengali food, then what-is-Bengali-food-without-its-fish follows. Agreed, fish cooked in Bengali style is delectable, but veggies cooked in Bengali style is NOT a non-entity!

On many occasions, when I was younger, I had even wandered as far as to share why I had turned vegetarian - when asked the usual question - “So are you ‘veg’ by birth or by choice?” I would groan inwardly, and reply, “By choice.” “But whyyyyyy?” Eyes would widen but I would have my answer ready for it had been said several times already, “I prefer to not kill animals” …which would be followed by a heated argument/many sniggers/dismissive gestures of “So animal rights, huh? You know then you should not be eating eggs either….” Which is why I now avoid these discussions altogether. A simple explanation doesn’t do, a longer one gets too tiresome and only takes the flavour out of a meal - for most often neither party is convinced either way. In any case, my intentions have never been to impose my ideas on anyone or try to convince them to give up meat.

In fact, once I was even asked by a friend if I would consider turning non-vegetarian for half the month if he considered not eating meat for the other half. Even if it was meant to be taken lightly, I wasn’t amused and it so happened that we soon fell out of touch. Not that I pick my friends based on what they eat - all of them, I’m happy to declare - are ones who enjoy their greens as much as they do their meat. They graciously, and genuinely, suggest we eat order only vegetarian if we need to share a dish at a restaurant. I’m equally adamant that they order what they wish to and not change their mind because of me - and it is, thankfully, a meal eaten in peace and mutual respect.

And I suppose my woes are also largely balanced out by those who have been pleasantly surprised to find that I haven’t felt the need to reverse my decision, or been seriously tempted to. “Wow, you managed to stay vegetarian for so long?” - “It wasn’t hard at all,” I insist, it isn’t a feat, really, but for the few flashes of tandoori chicken that also eventually faded.