A legislation 'well done': Thoughts on Maharashtra's beef ban

So a creation of the 1995 Shiv Sena BJP combine— the Maharashtra Animal Preservation (Amendment) Bill, 1995, has finally received presidential assent, after having been re-sent for approval by the new Government. 

I hadn't been able to get my hands on the Bill as yet, but since when has that ever stopped outrage? In my head, the legislation, its implementation and enforcement, would all pale when compared to the wild turns that my imagination had been taking since morning when the news broke. For when it comes to the contraband, nothing else comes to mind than the Narcotics, Drugs, and Psychotropic Substances Act and the procedures under that legislation. For those not in the know— the NDPS treats cases of personal consumption and deemed peddling (i.e. if you have beyond a quantity fit for personal consumption, it's presumed that you will be selling the same) quite differently. In the former, you have the option to plead addiction and seek rehabilitation. 

So if you were caught with a plate of boti kebabs, or a burger, do you get to claim addiction to beef, and therefore get yourself admitted to a shakha for rehabilitation? Will you have to see your counsellor once a week for six months, and write “Gaay hamari maata hai” a hundred times, and maybe withstand a medium-rare T-bone steak being placed in front of you as the ultimate test? And how much beef is too much beef, that could possibly be assumed to be a “commercial quantity?” God forbid they relied upon measly portions in Bombay restaurants to determine this— my partner and I put away half kilos of tenderloin with ease, and we are hardly big eaters. Which brings up another issue— like cocaine and MDMA, would different cuts of beef have different standards, in such a scenario? Don't you feel fuller eating a 200 gram steak than eating 200 grams of mince?

I imagined defence lawyers having a field day. Throughout my career in Bombay, I marvelled at the amazing skills of NDPS lawyers rattling off chemical compositions of drugs and pointing out additives in cocaine and ecstacy pills which actually brought down the potency of the drug, opening the doors for their clients to claim that the offence was actually not as serious as originally portrayed. Now half of a seized patty would have to be sent to a forensic lab for testing, and lawyers would look to soya content to get their clients out on bail. Does the doneness of the meat count towards a more heinous offence? Would we have therefore new approaches to determining “rarest of the rare” offences? 

Investigative methods would have to step up to the challenge of the meat going underground. Police personnel would pose as beef enthusiasts, and seek entry into closed Facebook groups run by food bloggers dying to reveal the location of the next cowabunga event. These parties would be raided by special task forces, zeroing in on contented folk with the familiar drippings of a medium rare burger, and maybe some mayonnaise and mustard, on their chins and shirts. Would blood samples be checked for elevated cholesterol levels?

Imagine police officers stopping customers stepping out of suspect restaurants—stalls around the Bandra west station, Mallu and Goan restaurants—and running toothpick tests with carefully calibrated wood to pluck out those stubborn fibres of meat that lodge at the back of your molars. Beef enthusiasts would start packing floss as part of their party kits, and if caught, plead bona fides: 

“I was told that it was mutton, sir!”

Followed by a whack from the police.

“Bade ka ya chhote ka, poocha tha kya?”

Unfortunately for my creative musings, from the preliminary reports that I have read (since the Bill was drafted in 1995, we'll have to wait for a scanned copy to be uploaded at some point)  there is still some confusion over what has been banned— and this includes bullocks and water buffaloes. Till now, cattle which were certified to be “fit for slaughter” were permitted to be slaughtered, and this legislation extends protection to all cattle. Will this see an exodus of elderly cattle from the State?

I suppose till we get more details, I can continue daydreaming about the Cattle Investigative Department swinging into action:

“Daya, refrigerator thod do!”
 

(Thanks to Abhijit Kadle.) 

(Amba Salelkar is a lawyer, who moved into disability law and policy after six years in criminal litigation. She works with the Inclusive Planet Centre for Disability and Policy. She tweets @mumbaicentral.