"The Light from the Last Bench"

An old government school used to stand in a small town in the rural Bengal with its weathered benches, filthy windows and stripped walls. Being one of its students, the Class 9 boy was called a naughty kid, a failure, and mostly the last bencher, Dipto was not an exception.

Dipto was born in an impoverished family. His dad was a day laborer and the mum was a domestic helper. He would rather aimlessly wander with his other friends, miss out on classes and doodle in the back of his notebook. long ago he was written off by his teachers--except by one. He was a young energetic person full of hope and saw what the other people could not see about Dipto. He saw beyond the surface where other people saw a troublemaker.

Arif Sir was not in the habit of giving the students complex tasks; once in the classroom, he assigned the students a very easy task: The students scribbled fanatically-some wanted to be doctors, some wanted to be pilots and some even wanted to be cricketers. Dipto however sent a paper consisting of a single sentence: Arif Sir woke up that night and did not get sleep.

The following day, he would call Dipto to stay with him after the class.

Smilingly he inquired, -- Yes, dreams might not fill your stomach but can they fill your soul?

Dipto turned aside and said,

-- Here are rich kids, sir. We sleep with unfulled plates and before we could be filled with them, they shatter.”

Arif Sir put a hand on his shoulder and told him something which would change the life of Dipto forever:

It is not your fault to be poor by the way you were born. And yet to remain poor in dreams--that is.”

You will create your future and I will stay by your side.

That day something changed in Dipto.

Arif Sir now started to spend some additional time with him after school and coaching him and stimulating him. He would purchase him notebooks, loan him books out, and feed him tales as opposed to reprimanding him on not talking. Dipto was a person that hated books and started to fall in love- with words.

He began to read Bengali poems, to write short stories, even to make poems by himself. But one day he plucked up his courage, and gave Sir something he had written. Sir read it, smiled and said,

-- Fire in your pen, Dipto. Keep writing.”

Write he did.

On some days Dipta did not feel such heroism, and the boys jibbed at him because he was the pet of Sir or poet babe. At times when he was faced by the pressure of the poverty, he thought why he needed to study. His parents, who were supportive in their own sense used to say, Find a Job after Class 10. We cannot have it any more.”

Nevertheless Arif Sir did not give up. He actually came to the house of Dipto, talked with his parents and even promised to cover his school fees using his own salary.

It is not charity, he said to them, It is an investment.

With the zeal and ambition, Dipto started to shine. In the following exam he was a topper in Bengali. His essays were performed in the classroom. Gradually, the poor boy, the last bencher, found a lot of people approaching him to seek his assistance.

He began to write in the school magazine. One of his short stories, The Silent Window, was chosen to participate in one of the districts competitions-and it became a winner. At that an ember stirred in him. The applause was the genuine thing. Dipto gained top marks in his secondary examinations. He studied at college and university (major Bengali literature). Serious writing began to take place and his stories featured in local magazines and newspapers. A few years down the line, he released a novel that bagged a national award. On the dedication of the book it was simply written:

In his name I would dedicate it to Arif Sir--who with a single touch of his pen had made a boy sitting in the last bench of school dream, for the first time in his life.

During the award ceremony, one of the journalists asked Dipto, --A teacher,--who in all my trouble never gave bad marks at all,--at least not until I had given up hope of ever getting any good marks at all. It is not only the story of Dipto. It is the story of millions of students who started to flourish as someone decided to believe in them. Others have ink smeared shirts, have ragged books, and can give the right words at the right time. Arif Sir was one of these kind of teachers, he did not teach the lesson, he taught life. He demonstrated how it is possible to start a sunny future even sitting at the farthest seat, but at least a person should believe in something bright inside him/her.