Sacrifice

I suppose it was partly to satisfy my morbid curiosity that I decided to venture out early this morning (or as early as I could) to Kathmandu's Durbar Square. Along the way, I saw people carrying their roosters and ducks (usually held by the leg and hanging upside down) with them - a common sight over the past few days. I also saw a few headless goat carcasses being skinned close to a little roadside shrine to Durga that had been erected some days ago.

I quietly slipped into Durbar Square, playing with my mobile as I walked past the ticket office for foreigners and looking suitably disinterested in the festivities. Women were lining up outside a few smaller temples with puja plates in their hands. Families were lining up to worship / touch / rub their hands on other temples. But by far the longest line was to enter the Taleju Temple, which is only open once a year to the public.



Of course, the main reason I'd come was to watch the goats being sacrificed. I had expected a lot more temples to be covered in blood, and the thought even crossed my mind that the red brick used to construct many of them was appropriate.

Contrary to expectation, the sacrifices seemed limited to one area at Basantapur Chowk. When I first entered the square, I mistook the sound of the executioner's blade striking the ground for the firing of a bullet. There was already a crowd of people and while I didn't get a front row viewing spot, I was still able to use my camera and outstretched arm to record what was happening and to watch it again later.

The first animal I saw sacrificed was a buffalo, followed by a goat. After that I didn't stay much longer around the square. It wasn't that I was disturbed by the actual killing - in these better organised sacrifices, the method of execution was quick and clean (unlike home sacrifices that can be badly executed and extend the suffering of the animal). The stress of waiting to be killed while the priests do the blessings, could equally be likened to the stress of waiting while the animal in front of you is getting slaughtered at an abattoir (though never having been to an operational abattoir or having had the experience of being livestock, I really can't speak for the goats and buffaloes here). Anyway, while it wasn't enough to convert me to a life of vegetarianism, it was a good reminder of what happens before I select my meat at the butcher's or supermarket.

*WARNING*
Some readers may find the following image and videos disturbing.

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