BUSINESS IDEA TO SUPPLEMENT INCOME

Let me share with you an autobiographical story with you that involves Business. Yes, you heard me right, it is Business at the root of it. I was feeling sick of being taunted for being dependent only on my fixed salary income and not coming up with a business idea that could supplement my income. I decided to come out of my shell and show the world that I am not feeble minded at all and that I am gifted with real Business Plan when it comes to my prestige.

Big Eid day (Baqr Eid) was approaching and people had started buying sacrificial animals. I was just wandering in my street to have a look at people who were enjoying the feast even before that big day. It was fun watching some young boys running their bulls and goats. Suddenly an idea struck my business obsessed mind. I smiled at my own tentatively planned scheme and returned home to take notes of it.

On the Eid day after Namaz, I changed my dress to look like a professional butcher (Qasai) holding a tool kit with me and stepped out. On my bike, I reached a place where I was sure nobody knew me. I found a seasonal butcher talking and bargaining with a gentleman who seemed undecided about accepting the price he was demanding. I quickly moved to them and introduced myself after greeting the gentleman with Farshi Salam (A Humble Gesture to Greet Elders). Without giving him a chance to recognize me, I told the man that I had been called by his son to slaughter a goat, so I am here.

Man: So, it is you finally reached, see the time.

Me: I apologize uncles, actually many people were after me to down their goat first and I had to settle the dispute by engaging some of my boys there thinking of you to do the favor first.

Man looked obliged and took me into the house saying goodbye to the other one. I looked back to throw a proud smile to the surprised butcher who had lost the bargaining battle versus me.

As I entered the house, my sweet smile quickly turned into troublesome gesture blended with fear. It was a gigantic goat looking extremely arrogant. I somehow managed to smile again and asked if it was the only animal they wanted a slaughter of. He nodded in positive and asked me about the fee. I thought of telling him a price that he cannot agree on; I wanted to go back to find an easy target as I had already lost the battle before a bull-like goat. After a careful thinking for a moment, I told him the price that he happily agreed upon. I wriggled, thinking I should have asked for more. Anyway, the deal was done with no room for escape.

I turned to open my tool bag and as I bent, the goat hit my buttocks with utmost power. I rolled over with a loud shriek and when I got back into senses, I found out that the rope of the goat was long enough and I was in its range so it announced its disapproval for me. I did not take it seriously; the gentleman was quietly sitting in a corner of the yard enjoying the first attack by the goat.

I got outrageous by the foul play shown by the goat and planned to attack it right from the front like a brave soldier. Ouch! I received a big head hit in my belly; the jerks were felt across the rib cage. I recovered quickly this time than before and held him with his horns. A battle started with the contribution of both the sides. I was holding the horns like a fierce warrior while the goat was struggling in my hands ferociously desperate to cast another blow. I tricked it and pulled its body toward me while hitting its feet with my foot. It fell over. I was out of breath. I took a half sigh of relief and went on for the next phase of gripping its legs. My hands were proving to be insufficient as the goat was trying hard to get itself free from my hands. Eventually, I won the battle, picked up a strip and tied its legs and fell down to the other end, as relaxed as if my job was over. This was the first time uncles registered his presence by clapping for me. I failed to understand if it was a heckle or praise. I took a couple of deep breaths and stood up to mark my dominance over the animal. By the time I ripped off its skin after slaughtering, I was almost done. I was sweating all through and asked for a glass of water. My hosts gave me a glass of water and a cup of tea. I rested for a while after taking tea. I was not completely aware of the technique of cutting the flesh into pieces, however, refreshing my memory with all those incidents where I was an eye witness of goat slaughtering, I started using the heavy cleaver to chop off the pieces. At one point I got stuck and asked for help from my host in a hope that he will extend a helping hand to hold the leg of the goat so that I could easily run the tool to finish off my job, but sorry to see that the host was unmoved. He looked a huge counselor of self-dependence and wanted me to go ahead at my own. I received a silent message in the eyes of the host, “Will you share the butchering fee with me or anyone, of course not, so why would anybody share your job.” It sounded justified and I, in a decisive mode, stood up to hold the leg with my chin and let my wrists do the rest. I do not know why but I had a feeling of losing something out of me. What was that? The question remained unanswered. I tried not to pay attention to this bizarre feeling and finished off my work. Once the job was done, I collapsed in a corner taking long breaths to restore my energy. I felt badly tired. I realized that the hit the goat had made in my back was far lesser than the trial it made me go through after its slaughter. In ten minutes, I got myself ready to collect fee and take a leave from the host. He not only paid me the due amount but also some additional amount as a gesture of appreciation for my good services. I had no energy even to count the money. I came out dangling in search of my bike which luckily had not changed its shape and position unlike rest of the things around me. I settled over it and started searching for my abode which I finally found. I went straight up to my room and fell over the bed. In the evening, when I woke up for dinner, I felt as if something is missing in my body. Oops! I found out with some effort. My wonder found no bounds when I found my left hand devoid of the small finger (the last one) which had been taken away in the hustle of slicing the meat into pieces. I rushed back to the place where I had given my services and found out that the yard had been cleaned up well. Nobody had a clue where my finger was. I am still looking for it, something that I had to sacrifice as a cost of my income supplement plan. If you ever find it, send it to me, it is mine.