Adopting Philosophy

The brown haired, brown eyed, tall, history teacher, with a short, stubbed beard, wearing a  light blue shirt, black tie that hung down, just below his collar bone, and grey trouser, walked around the class  room, as he waited for his students to finish making their notes. Moments later the bell rang, indicating that it was the end of lesson

“Remember after lunch we will be studying Mahatma Gandhi and none violence movement against the Empire,” announced James Masters, the history teacher.

“I am starving,” said Prashant Shah, as he and his friend, Roger Smith walked out of the class room and headed for the dining hall for lunch.

“Me too,” replied his friend, as the two walked into the hall and waited in the queue. Lunch consisted of Steak and Kidney pie, vegetables, mashed potato and gravy.

“Not bad,” said Roger Smith, as he dug into his lunch.

Being Wednesday meant that the classes would start at 2.00pm and would go onto 3.30pm and after that there would be a bus into town for the students for their weekly shopping, returning at 7.00pm. But the two best friends decided not to go into town and instead complete their assignments.

“I am off to get some coffee,” said Prashant, as he got up from the table at the library and walked towards the door, “Want some Rog?”

“Get me one as well,” came the voice of a fellow student and friend, Hatim, an Arab, who had stayed behind to complete his assignments as well.

“No I am fine,” said the English boy, as he looked up from the books and gave a naughty smile, “but get one for that no good for nothing, lazy Arab.”

Before he could witness any physical retaliation from his Arab friend, the Indian boy made a rapid exit from the library and went into the college kitchen.

“Can I have three mugs of mugs of some of your excellent coffee, Manuel?” he asked, as he looked around the kitchen and saw what was being prepared for their evening meal.

“I bring it to you library,” replied the Spanish part time cook with heavy Spanish accent, “You go from here now,”

At that moment something caught Prashant’s attention. The food that was being prepared seemed to have been mixed with something and did not look right.

“What’s this?” he asked the Spanish cook, as he walked over to where the food was being cooked and saw some pieces of Roast Chicken had been mixed in with Pork and Bake Beans.

The cook put up his hands, as if to indicate that he was surrendering. Something was not right.

“I tell Mr Henderson that not enough food but he say mix everything,” replied Manuel, as he looked concerned, “Chicken! Three weeks old, Pork! No mention to any Muslim and Bake Beans! Well ok but serve yesterday. Only Gravy fresh!”

Prashant dashed out of the kitchen and went straight into the Library.

“We have a problem,” he told his two friends, “and it needs to be sorted immediately.”

He then informed them what he had seen and what he was told.

“May be he is lying,” suggested Hatim, as he looked worried.

“No,” said Roger Smith, as he looked around the library, “Manuel would never tell a fib. Let’s go and see Mr Masters, the House Master and see what he can do.”

The three went to the staff room and asked to see the Master. He was not in, they were informed.

“Try his room,” suggested the female teacher, as she closed the door on them. She was right! He was in his room.

“I will speak to the Headmaster and see what can be done,” he replied, “It’s probably a mistake.”

The three students then left it at that. But three weeks later.

“Any coffee for us, Manuel?” asked Roger Smith, as he walked into the college Kitchen.

“Si,” said the Spanish cook, as he handed him three mugs full of the caffeine drink, “But food same. No change! All mixed as always.”

The English student became concerned now, as he realised that no steps had been taken to sort out the food problem.

“Direct action,” suggested Prashant, as he and his friends sat in the library, over their files and text books, “Our parents pay thousands of pounds, not including the extras, for fees and in return, what do we get? Dog’s food!”

“What can we do?” asked the Arab, as he looked around to make sure that no one was hearing.

“Food strike,” replied Prashant Shah, as he turned and looked at his other friend, “We get our own food from the town and if that fails, then we buy packets of crisps and sweets from the college tuck shop. But no college food until this is sorted now. Do we agree?”

The three looked at each other and slowly shook hands as an oath.

“Good,” whispered Prashant Shah, “Now! Let’s start passing the word around. Remember what we were taught in History when we were studying Mahatma Gandhi. Now if anyone can’t afford to get food from town, we will buy it for them and if not, then snacks from the tuck shop.”

Soon the word began to spread like wild fire burning in a dry forest. At morning break time, the queue outside the college tuck shop was longer than normal as the strike began to take effect.

“It’s solid,” reported Hatim, as he walked into the study, “There’s no queue outside the dining hall. Not one student is there – maybe a few teachers but not a single student.”

There was no turning back now. The protest was now in full swing. At dinner time it was the same and many of the teachers were taken by surprise as they realised what was happening.

“I want to meet the students who have instigated the protest against college food,” announced the Head Master at the end of one of the morning services, “Be in my study after lunch.”

With that the assembly was dismissed.

“I would like to see you separately. Prashant,” said James Masters, as he pulled the Indian student to one side and took him to an empty classroom.

“You ate not to attend the meeting this afternoon,” he told him, “It’s a matter of, how should I say this, almost like “divide and rule.”

“Just as I thought sir,” said Prashant Shah, as he began to make his exit, “But at least, we are being heard now.”

He walked out of the classroom and went to inform his friends and then gave them instructions on the demands being met as well as a list of demands on improving food hygiene and quality.

“Our demands have been met,” yelled out Hatim and Roger Smith happily, later that evening, as they, along with the teachers, came out of the Headmaster’s office, “The Headmaster’s wife will be cooking from now on and she will make everything fresh.”

“Thank god,” thought Prashant, as he thought of how the Indian leader may have felt when he took action against the British during struggle for Independence, “The policy of non - cooperation has worked.”