A STORY ABOUT GLUTTONY
It was at the dinner buffet table that we saw them—two obese, wealthy Indian men at the famous Ashoka Hotel, New Delhi, India. They were drunk out of their minds! Their plates were piled high with masala chicken. Nothing else on their plates…just a huge mound of spicy fowl—enough to perhaps feed 5 people. One of them kept piling the poultry until the pieces on the pinnacle of the mound were unable to stay and started to slide off the plate. People stared in disgust but the two did not seem to notice or care!
They lurched their way back to their table. They were dining together. It was Ghazal night and as the singers warmed up in their back and forth extempore repartee, the two besotted ones cried out “Vah Vah” every few seconds, or so it seemed and threw crisp, one hundred rupee bills all over them, in appreciation of their beautiful rendering.
Suddenly one of them threw out his hands in a gesture of appreciation, saying “Vah, Vah” turned grey, clutched at the napkin around his neck, tore it off and collapsed to the floor. The smashed plate lay fragmented aside his body. He did not move. One last piece of chicken was stuck in his throat. His body had revolted against the gluttony.