“Oh dear... those pieces of meat will NOT get fresh anywhere or anyhow... regardless how you examine it !”
Of course I kept this line to my heart, when the scene -- of a young lady picking up a package of beef, turning it left and right, up and down, in attempt to verify the freshness of those beef pieces --caught my sight.
It's one of the scenes that would keep me reminded, all my life.
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How can the slaughtered meat remain “freshed“ --*in it's true essense* --when the animals are already dead ? The slogan on the shelf puzzled me.
Of course it's only the ice of tip bergs. People have been doing this for generations. East and West countries. In Developed and some Third-world countries.
Look at the picture above. Do you see a striking resemblance to *something* ?
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My recent assignment puts me at a supermarket store in one of the famous shopping malls in town. The place of my duty at there depends on the current conditions. Cubicle-free, mobile and flexible.
Just 1 week ago, my “duty station” was next to the merchandise shelf of some Japanese cookies and household peanut butter, with a rather spacious walkway in between both rows of shelves.
And last weekend when I arrived, I trolled my way around, only to find that my “duty station” was automatically switched to somewhere else, as a result of temporary shelf relocation within the store to cater for some minor store renovation.
An exclamation mark knocked my head when I found my new “duty station” is right before a shelf with rows and rows of packaged meat. Beef. Lamb. Chicken. Pieces of slaughtered legs, thighs, bodies. Newly cut meat pieces. Meat hams. Meat sausages.
Next to the meat shelf is the butcher department where corpse meat are further chopped, weighed, pre-packaged or customized-package according to customers request. Oh yes, you read it right. I mean -- *corpse meat* -- all dead and slaughtered animals left only corpse. Yes ? No ? ; )
Despite the air-cond is strong enough every now and then the smell of bloodshed would still leak out thru the walkway along the butcher department counter, and fill the air of the spaces around, at least 3 feets away from the butcher department.
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It's not a new thing. The scenes presence before me now are really not much different from those at butcher stalls somewhere at Petaling Street that I occationally passed by from the roadside, as a kid, 2 decades ago.
Similar scenes. Exactly the same bloodshed smell that raised goose bump.
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Customers who buy meat at there consist of some westerners and majority Malaysians, and especially --majority customers are female. Sometimes while I was on duty, there would be a customer or two asking me where the meat are placed. And for courtesy reason I would politely show them the direction.
Staffs at butcher department there consist of male and female workers. They deal with the cut and chop and split of meat pieces every single day, 11 hours a day. They're just following the standard operation procedures, the one of a butcher department. They're just doing their job for a living.
I was wondering if any of them had ever felt “weird” doing these tasks all day long. But once a while I noticed the frowned eyebrows that could not be hidden on the face of one of the staffs there, despite her very professional performance whenever dealing with customers at the counter.
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Sounds of brushing and washing floor space from inner side of butcher department could be heard, about 3 or 4 times within the day. Yet the bloodshed smell still would not completely vanished after each session of cleaning.
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It's not a new thing. People have been doing this for generations. As meat buyers. As meat eaters. Or at even limited choices, as butchers. Our parents had been doing it. Most of us were fed and raised from a family background like this.
It cycles through the entire food consumer market.
And I strongly believe that most of the meat buying customers here are good people. Caring and responsible mums and dads. With kind hearts and kind actions for other people. Would not hesitate to contribute in saving people's life whenever possible.
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Whenever I passed by walkways that are alongside meat shelves at other supermarkets, I would always move quickly and recite prayers for those already cut animals on displayed.
What's the difference between graveyards for human and graveyards for dead mutilated animals ?
Why would people be scared of passing by graveyards for human, and not for graveyards for dead mutilated animals ?
I was wondering.
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I took a little time, after my duty hours finished, to take some glimpse at the meat shelf. For a long time I had been avoiding to confront with meat pieces such as these, every time I visits supermarkets. But this time I have no choice. Things happened for some reasons, I guess.
I stared at the plastic-packed meat pieces rows by rows. Pieces of chopped legs, thighs, and other body parts. Each of those package speak of the shattered families of the lambs, cows and chickens.
I heard the children's cry and mothers' scream echo silently, through the spaces around the meat shelf and butcher department.
“Na Mo Ami Tuo Fo.
Na Mo Ami Tuo Fo.
Na Mo Ami Tuo Fo.
May these animals free from suffering of this Samsara and live happily forever.”
I recite prayers silently.
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Is every family precious ?
Is every mother/ father love the same ?
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■ More related read
HERE>> Soul-crunching Lines from the Mothers
HERE>> Soul-crunching Lines from the Mothers
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“In the silence of #Love ( #compassion ), you will find the spark of #Life” - Rumi
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