Labour union leader, Joseph, was sitting across me in the Registrar’s office with a complaint. Joseph was a tall, thin, fair, bearded man in his early forties who visited me regularly. He always sported a smile, walked with a swag and dressed in a white shirt and mundu (lungi) like all Congress politicians. He was nursing an ambition to become an MLA in future and took keen interest in University labour affairs because our farms were also his incubation ground. He was a loud spokesman for the farm labourers even though he was not a University employee. Whatever be the grievance- real or imaginary – his theatrics were always superlative and his pitch was never in low decibel.

That day Joseph’s complaint was against Dr. Abdul Salam, Associate Professor, Head of Cashew Research Center in Madakkathara. The center was located just a stone’s throw from University headquarters. Apart from conducting research, his center produced cashew seedlings for public sale and earned a good revenue for the university. Dr. Salam had met me a couple of times earlier to brief about his work and his center. He had probably anticipated a face-off with his farm labourers sooner or later. My impression was that he was a logical and sincere scientist who could not only talk eloquently but was also willing to work hard. He appeared to be self-driven with a wish to deliver a good performance for which he took his workers to task, if required. I already knew that few people had a grouse against him. In the past, a couple of years back, few miscreants had torched his house one night in his absence but fortunately there was only property loss. However, it was not clear then whether the arson was done for personal or official grudge.

I did not reveal my impression about Dr. Salam to Joseph who talked at length and painted him as a tyrant for the labourers in the center. The gist of the complaint was that Dr. Salam was high handed, did not bother about the labourers’ difficulties and was not even willing to listen to them. Apparently, the latest provocation and the urgent reason for Joseph meeting me that day was that the labourers- both male and females- were threatened by Dr. Salam that if they did not work as per norms their wages would be deducted proportionately.

With an innocent face, I inquired from Joseph as to why the labourers were not willing to work according to norms and what was morally wrong if the Head of the center wanted to enforce discipline keeping in mind the University’s interest. Interestingly, Joseph had done his homework and was aware of the issue that he came to discuss. He explained that filling polythene bags with soil for cashew seedlings was one job that was routinely performed by the labourers. According to norms each labourer was expected to fill 300 polythene bags in a day and this was the actual bone of contention. Any number less than that would attract deduction of wages under the warning issued by the Head.

Without any further prompting Joseph revealed agitatedly that the university norms were unreasonable especially in view of the fact that the soil provided by the university was having higher clay content and it got hardened due to baking in the open sun. He took the stand that if the soil had been sufficiently loamy and loose, there would not be a problem in satisfying the norms. Due to the peculiar circumstances it was incumbent upon the Head of the center to apply his mind and not insist blindly on meeting the targets. He was going all hammer and tongs and even suggested that if it was expected from labourers to perform then the University administration should also ensure that the soil was sprinkled with water and pulverized in advance. In his role as messiah of the labourers, Joseph kept on cursing Dr. Salam pointing out that it was so unfortunate that the highly-paid officers of the University did not have any heart for the lowest-paid agriculture labourers.

Joseph was simply enacting before me a typical class struggle drama- bourgeoisie versus proletariat. Till now all his rage was against the Head of the Center but it was increasingly become clear to me that if I took side with Dr. Salam then I would also be seen as a heartless highly paid officer in the eyes of the ‘oppressed’ class. It was a bait that had to be manoeuvered delicately without falling for it hook, line and sinker.

Joseph ended his long tirade with a warning. He almost ‘advised’ me that I needed to pass an instruction to Dr. Salam for not insisting on the norms regarding soil filling of polythene bags and consequently not to deduct any wages failing which the labourers were likely to go on strike because of the simmering discontentment. His threat of strike was couched in as polite a language as he could manage in his rebellious mood.

I was aware of the fall out of the labour strike, especially if it was not to remain confined to the Cashew Research Center. We also had farm labourers who looked after hens, ducks, turkeys, cattle, rabbits and pigs that needed to be fed and cared on a daily basis. Forget about feeding, the cattle needed to be milked twice a day failing which they would develop a disease called mastitis - udder-related infections that could prove fatal.

While the worst scenario of various farm animals in distress or dying left and right due to the conjured labour strike was playing at the back of my mind, Joseph looked at me expectantly imagining that he had me sufficiently cornered. I opened my chess move gradually by first of all agreeing wholeheartedly with him and emphasizing that one had to be practical rather than theoretical and in no case the human touch should be lost. Joseph started nodding agreeably with the pleased expression- ‘I told you so’- on his face. After mouthing few similar platitudes, I set the ground for a spectacle. I offered to go to the Cashew Research Center in his company and fill the polythene bags for a day with the same soil and convince myself about the fairness of the existing norms. It was a strategic pawn move and before giving Joseph any time to react I picked up the intercom and dialed Dr. Mohankumar, Director (Research) who used to sit on the same office floor.

I quickly explained the issue to Dr. Mohankumar and also let him know that I intended to fill the bags myself as a way out of the conundrum while Joseph looked at me in disbelief. I asked Dr. Mohankumar gently whether he would like to be a part of this exercise and waited with curiosity for his response.

I must give credit to that plump and bespectacled academician, just next in seniority to the Vice Chancellor in the university hierarchy and near his retirement, who immediately concurred to fill the polythene bags along with me - but with a caveat. He chuckled over the intercom at my bizarre solution and informed apologetically that he had a heart problem therefore he would be able to do the manual labour only for an hour for demonstration. I thanked him profusely and put the phone down after promising him the that I would let him know in advance the day fixed for the exhibition match!

I now turned to Joseph with a satisfied smile and informed him that I was ready with the Director (Research) on any day of his convenience to modify the relevant labour output norm if needed. I fixed the last nail of my argument by stipulating only one condition – the norm would be revised upward if I could fill more bags than the existing target. I suggested, in fact, it should be fifty bags more than my output because I was going to do a manual job that was not mine and the labourers should be able to do better because they had already gone over the learning curve.

Joseph was nonplussed at the turn of events. With an awkward smile, he waved both his hands frantically and meekly suggested that I need not bother to implement my idea. He knew that he had been checkmated by the stronger proletarian response to his problem so the further discussion veered off to other general issues and sweet nothings. Hence, the contemplated public display of the Director (Research) and Registrar filling polythene bags with soil never happened. Fortunately, that labour grievance also never surfaced again for the rest of my tenure.

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