On Being Vegetarian

I am not writing my 2025 review separately, but if I were, one of my top 3 wins for 2025 would be “being vegetarian” for the whole year.

June 24, 2024. That was the last time I ate meat, buff sukuti sekuwa. The dried barbequed buffalo meat. It was at a local Newari Khaja shop on the outskirts of Kathmandu, a didi served us buff Newari Khaja set.

Oh, Newari Khaja set! How I love this amalgamation of spicy meat, beans, vegetables, and beaten rice. This is one typical Nepali cuisine I would never get tired of eating.

But the buff sukuti sekuwa that day was not well-cooked.

I have always had sheer abjection for not properly cooked meat. So, whenever I cook meat, I make sure it’s fully cooked to the core of each piece.

Sukuti, the dried meat, is naturally hard. On top of that, it was barbecued; cooked without moisture. The sukuti sekuwa was hence very hard to chew. When I tried, it felt like it was not cooked at all. I fed the meat to the dog sitting nearby.

June 27, 2024. Two days later, I took shelter in Dhammagar, Kotdanda Vipassana Meditation Center, Lalitpur, for a 3-day course. I took the oath of Panchasila, noble silence, and delved myself in deep meditation for the next three days and returned home on June 30, 2024, with a resolution that I would no longer eat meat.

It has been exactly a year and a half since I became a vegetarian.

Performing a Lie

I lied to my parents.

I told them I stopped eating meat because a doctor told me to, for my health. I told them I would have serious health issues if I didn’t stop eating meat. They had no option but to believe their truthful Yudhisthir-like daughter and an expert doctor.

But that is all a fabricated story I myself created to protect my decision to become a vegetarian.

When I first thought about this plan, I was really conflicted because I had just returned from a Vipassana meditation course where I had sworn a noble precept of “right speech or not telling a lie”. I thought over it, but I also had no choice but to tell this lie.

Certainly, it is a lie. But my intention here is not to deceive, not to hurt. But to protect.

Protect my decision from being overturned. Protect my parents from a lifelong feeling of discontent that their daughter is missing out on the tastiest delicacy in the world. Also, protect them from the pain they would feel had I told them the truth and disobeyed their request to change my decision.

Hence, although it seems to be against the noble precept of right speech, it is, in reality, for the noble precept of right livelihood.

When I broke the news, my parents got a little worried about my health. But when I told them that I would be totally fine if I followed the doctor’s instructions, they became relieved.

But I have shared the truth with my siblings and took their promise to protect it. If you are reading this and know my parents, I hope you’ll also protect it.

The reason I had to make up this story is because I was previously failed by my parents and relatives.

In 2019, I read “The Monk Who Sold His Ferrari,” by Robin Sharma. I was so influenced that I decided to become a vegetarian.

Back then, I had announced it, mentioning my true reasons, but nobody supported it. They mocked at me, laughed at me, pressured me, and my parents emotionally blackmailed me to revert back.

My parents had never known a vegetarian before. First, they thought I was just briefly influenced by the book and wouldn’t be able to keep up. But as months passed and I remained firm in my decision, they began to worry that I would be malnourished and discontent.

Every time meat was cooked at home, my mom would recall how I, as a kid, ate meat even in my sleep, when she woke me up and fed me, and I ate with my eyes closed. And, that’s absolutely true!

My parents and siblings know this for sure. But not just them, my relatives and everyone who has dined with me before know it too. I could eat any type of meat, in any amount, and with full enjoyment.

Whenever I visited my uncles and aunts, I would eat more meat than rice. Everyone was very happy to feed such a great meat-eater. Being a meat-eater was one of the primary identities I had earned for myself among my people.

And one day, I declared that I would become a vegetarian. Naturally, nobody believed me. They thought I was just joking. They mocked me and teased me with the tastiest meat items placed before me.

The pressure was so great that I had to back down from my decision during the Dashain festival, when everyone was together, and there was meat everywhere in the house.

But this time, two Dashain seasons have gone by, and I stand by my choice.

Getting Back in Shape

I gained excessive weight over the past 4,5 years.

I looked so bad in the mirror, in the photographs. No clothes fit me. I felt heavy. I felt lazy.

Whenever I visited my sister’s college as her guardian, people at the front desk would assume I was her mom and call me “aunty”.

Every other person I met after some time told me, “Timi ta kati motaako? Bihe bhayo?” (How fat have you become? You got married?”) I still wonder how gaining weight and getting married are related.

The first few times, these remarks came as a shock! I was angry and sad. But as it continued, I learned to swallow my ego and started to accept my new identity.

During those days, I realized how deeply such body-shaming remarks can affect people. But it seems we have internalized them so much that we make them without even realizing it. I have caught myself making similar remarks to others. I consciously try to avoid being that kind of jerk, but it’s not easy to unlearn.

And one fine day, I decided to trim myself down.

First thing, food control. But food is probably my #1 weakness. Not just meat, I can eat any food joyously, be it ghiraula or lauka (sponge gourd or bottle gourd, least favored by many).

Being a vegetarian came in handy for this! As I stopped taking meat, I automatically ate less. In addition, I ate less in the evenings. I went out for hiking more often than before.

In just 1 year, I lost 8 kgs of my body weight, and I’m in my current shape. Still slightly overweight, but I feel much lighter!

Suffering from Vitamin Deficiency

Just as I lost weight, I also lost other things from my body.

In March and April, I wasn’t feeling well. My joints ached, and I felt unusually sleepy all the time. I mentioned this to a friend from the hike, and he suspected it might be a Vitamin B12 deficiency.

Later, I consulted an orthopedic doctor, assuming there was a problem with my bones. He recommended a few X-rays and blood tests. As my friend had guessed, the results showed a severe deficiency of Vitamin B12 and Vitamin D.

I feared the doctor might advise me to eat meat, as everyone else had. But to my pleasant surprise, he didn’t. He only prescribed supplements.

Instead, I myself thought about reconsidering my vegetarianism. Taking pills for vitamins felt very unnatural. Why not organically absorb them from your food rather than taking them chemically?

But that felt like an easy excuse! I doubted the strength of my own decision.

My doctor helped me stay committed to my plan. He was very non-judgmental about my being a vegetarian, even though it had caused some health challenges.

He assured me that supplements would resolve the deficiencies and never once suggested that I should start eating meat.

And he was right. I recently retested my vitamin levels, and they’re now normal.

My simple approach has been: eat well, stay hydrated, and avoid junk as much as I can.

Reading The Vegetarian

In 2025, I read The Vegetarian, a novel by Han Kang, twice.

I first heard about the book after it won the 2024 Nobel Prize in Literature. At that time, I had only recently become a vegetarian, and probably so the title had immediately caught my attention.

I first got the book in the first quarter of the year, borrowing it from a library. I found the novel fascinating, but I couldn’t fully understand the plot, let alone its theme.

In the last quarter of the year, I bought my own copy and read it again. This time, I could relate much more to what Yeong-hye, the novel’s protagonist, was going through. Maybe because, by then, I had already experienced some of the social and medical challenges of being vegetarian for over a year.

The novel tells the story of Yeong-hye, a woman in South Korea who decides one day to become a vegetarian. In a culture where meat is central to every meal, her seemingly small and personal choice sets off a chain of unexpected consequences for both herself and her family.

Through her story, the novel exposes how patriarchy exerts control over women’s choices, thoughts, and life trajectories, revealing multiple forms of violence along the way.

More broadly, it explores how deeply human existence is entangled with violence, leaving us to question whether true non-violent humanity is ever possible.

Will I Ever Eat Meat Again?

I may. If I ever find myself in a situation where I have no choice.

Broadly speaking, becoming a vegetarian in Nepal is not very difficult. Vegetables are affordable and widely available.

In fact, vegetarianism is encouraged in Hindu and Buddhist traditions as a righteous way to live. But, it’s rare to find people who actually follow it these days. Instead, our so-called modernity often leads us to dismiss or mock our traditional practices, simply labeling them as outdated.

Still, in my personal context as a daughter of the Kirat Rai family, the decision was unexpected, as meat is an essential part of our cultural and social life. So, choosing to become a vegetarian in that setting naturally drew disbelief and teasing:

“What kind of Rai are you if you don’t eat meat or drink liquor?”

“A vegetarian meal is not a meal at all.”

“Veg momo is no momo.”

“You grass-eaters.”

Even so, I see vegetarianism as a matter of personal choice. I chose this path, and I am committed to it for now.

But I cannot, and do not wish to, claim that it will be permanent. Life does not always grant us the freedom to choose.

For me, it is less about rigidly following rules and more about holding a mindful intention: to avoid killing, or eating food that comes from killing, whenever possible.

As the Buddha taught, when you have no choice, you may accept what is offered as alms. If you eat with equanimity, without craving or attachment, it does no harm.

In that sense, vegetarianism is about intention and awareness, not judgment.

I do not hate meat-eaters, nor do I hate meat. But if I always had the freedom to choose, I would remain vegetarian, not out of obligation, but as a mindful and compassionate choice.