Perhaps the "best language" is one that can freely borrow from others to compactly express an idea, as I did. In this regard, French is the WORST language. The French Academy sees to that - carefully trying to keep all foreign words out.
But they're a bit schizophrenic about it. They don't have a problem with modern technical words built artificially from Latin and Greek roots like telephone and automobile. I think their main goal is to avoid the wholesale importation of English words, since they haven't gotten over the ascendence of English over French in international culture.
The Germans are more even-handed about it, trying their best to avoid even Latin and Greek. Since German is an analytic (word-building) language they do pretty well at coining their own words. "Telephone" is
Fernsprecher, a perfect translation of our Greek-Latin hybrid "distance-speaker," and "automobile" is
Kraftwagen, "powered wagon." (All German nouns are capitalized.) The Chinese do the same thing out of necessity, since the language's phonetic structure makes it impossible to assimilate foreign words in any recognizable form. "Telephone" is
dian-hua, "electricity (lightning) speech," and "automobile" is
qi-che, "powered vehicle."
Sometimes the resistance to foreign borrowings can be humorous. Italian nationalists once tried valiantly to fend off the invasion of the word
hotello for "hotel," since it came from French, English and several other languages. They wanted to resurrect the old Italian word
albergo. Their scholars had to set them straight and explain that "hotel" comes from the word
hospitale for "guest room" in Latin, the ancestor of Italian and all of its "national" vocabulary.
Albergo, as it turns out, was a word borrowed in the middle ages from German!
BTW, studies have shown that the Indians not eating cows is very productive.
Beef is one of the least resource-efficient sources of food, even compared to other mammal meat such as mutton, pork and goat. You get something like nine times the return on your investment in feed if you let a cow live a normal lifespan and collect the milk, than you do by slaughtering it when it reaches adulthood and eating the meat.
Most horses are eaten, but by dogs, perhaps cats too, in canned dog food. Very few horses in the US are given a burial.
Even just a few decades ago, horse carcasses were used in the manufacture of glue. (I think the primary material is in their hooves.) It was a staple joke on TV westerns in the 1950s, for a cowboy to tell his horse, "If you don't stop being so ornery, I'm going to drop you off at the glue factory."
I do not know who was the owner of the horse, but admired his "horse knowledge" and how cleverly he transferred the problem of a dying horse to someone (me) who could solve it.
I visited Bulgaria in 1973--a very poor country at that time, and horses were in common use. My friend told me that even if a horse were killed in a road accident and the meat was perfectly healthy, they would not eat it.
Dogs have a special place in our collective unconscious. They were the first animal that volunteered to be our companions without having to be "tamed"; most human cultures, and all of the prosperous ones, do not consider them food.
But it's hard to explain our disgust for horsemeat. The horse was not the first large domesticated animal; that was probably the sheep. They did not come to us voluntarily and to this day must be "broken" for domesticity; it was the goats and pigs who walked right into our lives, scavengers (like dogs) attracted by the bounty of perfectly edible garbage we leave on the ground. They were not the first animal we were able to use for riding and pulling carts, that was either the ox or the donkey, and in the New World the llama.
But even people who have never seen a live horse love horses in a way that no human being has ever loved a sheep, goat, ox, donkey or llama. It must be an archetype, I'll have to look it up in our Jungian material. (Today many people do keep pet pigs, who are both sweet and intelligent.)
We used to buy horsemeat to feed our cats. We had to drive way out into the remote, quasi-agricultural suburbs of Los Angeles, to a little nondescript shop that kept it in a freezer in the back room. It was like buying whiskey during Prohibition. We figured that when our cats went outside and the other cats smelled their breath, they would grovel in awe and say, "Wow, you guys are the best hunters. You killed a horse!"