9 Just Bread and Butter

M _ _ O _ _ _ R _

Hint: a movement or action requiring dexterity and skill

Devdutt was panting as he felt around for the edges of the study table. The falling of the book from his hand had startled him awake. His face bore cuff and button marks from having slept on his hand. His head was throbbing incessantly, and his eyes were trying to adjust to the early morning light that filled the room. The sun wasn't visible yet, but it was bright enough for him to quickly cover his fatigued eyes.

He shirt was soaked in perspiration and the room smelled ripe from lack of circulation of fresh air. Having realised the staleness of the air inside the room, he opened the left window and fastened it with the stopper to keep it from moving and banging against the frame. As he opened the right one, he was reminded of his duty towards the school's properties and scorned at the thought of being there, on that land, in submission to the white people, like a common servant.

A blast of fresh, morning, mountain air brought him some relief. He looked around for the basin to splash some cold water over his face and found it pushed underneath the bed. He recalled kicking it under the bed, in a fit of rage the previous morning. Temper tantrums were rare with Devdutt. He had always been obedient and respectful of his elders. Guru ji's words were etched in his memory and had calmed him down on so many occasions. "When you find yourself in the grasps of strong, negative emotions, take a step back and breathe. Evaluate the situation, read their expressions and most importantly, listen to the what they are not saying. Let their breath and posture guide your response," Guru ji had said to him, sitting under the Banyan tree at the palace's east wing.

"And what if I don't know how to respond? What if I don't like someone's tone or words? I can have them punished for offending me. I'm a prince, am I not? I have the right to have them imprisoned, haven't I?" Devdutt had asked, mildly protesting the idea of being the discernible one in a confrontation.

"What happens when you pour ghee (clarified butter) over a small fire?" Guru ji had asked him with a smile on his face. "It roars and engulfs the surroundings, son. Do not react to an unfavourable situation and make it worse. You may not always be in a safe environment, surrounded and protected by your loved ones. If you can't think of a way to reason with your opponent, then just bow your head and walk away."

Guru ji's wisdom hadn't failed him yet. Devdutt had a temperament of meditating monk. Guru ji had taught him to keep a cool head in the face of adversity and Devdutt's diligence had kept him safe and unharmed despite the radical changes that had taken place at the palace in the last six months. The King's closeness with the British officers had thoroughly disrupted his state of mind, but he had prevailed. He had been upset with his father, angry at the sudden turn of events and fearful of the future of his Kingdom and his people, but Devdutt had chosen to mask his disappointments. He hadn't given the British officers, the pleasure of seeing him in agony over being displaced by their trickery.

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As he bent over to pull the basin out, his head spun wildly, and he felt incredible pressure and pain in his eyes and head. He went down on his knees and hands and closed his eyes for a few moments. His pounding head was swaying his focus and he moved from being on all fours to kneeling into vajrasana - a seated yogic stance that facilitates proper breathing, posture and focus. Devdutt was told to practice certain calming and restorative yogic asanas whenever he felt agitated. The asanas helped regulate his breathing and heart rate and centered his spirit.

Within a few minutes he was breathing better and felt at ease. It was then that he remembered that he hadn't eaten for more than sixteen hours. His last meal consisted of two pieces of bread and butter during lunch hour at the school canteen. Devdutt hadn't been eating well at all. His first day at the canteen was utterly confusing. He hadn't seen a spread of English foods before. He didn't know their names and couldn't tell if they were sweet or savoury. But there was one thing that he could tell, was unfavourable for consumption - meat. Devdutt was a vegetarian and had never eaten meat before. Standing in a slow-moving line, he had quietly prepared to put up a fight if he was forced to eat any of it. To his relief, the students were serving themselves as they pleased.

There were hard-boiled eggs, sweet smelling, bright-coloured preserves, scones, toasted and plain bread slices, honey, milk, fruit juices, canned fruits, porridge and pieces of cured meat. He stood in the breakfast line, taking his own time, staring at the items on the spread as the crowd got restless. An Indian boy, standing ahead of him, signalled him to pick up bread. He hurriedly picked up a couple of slices and looked at him for further instructions. The boy put his tray down, picked up the butter knife and spread some of it on his bread slice. Devdutt nodded and repeated the action. As he finished buttering his bread, he looked around for the boy, but he couldn't find him at any of the tables. Devdutt understood that he had to manoeuvre himself through the buffet until he got used to it. "I'm all alone," he'd muttered to himself, clutching his Hanuman locket inside his shirt.

Devdutt had sat by himself at the last table in the hall for each of his meals since the first day. He came to understand that the food wouldn't be to his liking. But one thing was certain, he wouldn't starve at the English school. Devdutt also understood that bread and butter were essentially Roti (flatbread made from wheat flour) and ghee in a different form. He had thanked his Lord Hanuman for making palatable food available. He had eaten fruits, bread and butter and had forced himself to drink a glass of milk every morning.

At the palace, Dai Ma would force him to drink milk every day, but he'd ignore her and make funny faces at her. He missed the food back home. It was warm, delicious and comforting and it was made and served with so much love. His stomach growled and his mouth salivated at the thought of food; not the food from the canteen, but the kind that he was accustomed to at home. He looked around for water and poured himself a glass to pacify his stomach. It was going to be a long day and he needed some English food to bolster his body, mind and spirit.