The Best of The Worst Student (20/02/25)

The Best of The Worst Student 

(In case, some readers take me for a boasty, vain man for sharing the story as I blogged on my blog site on 20th November, 2018, let me reproduce it exactly as it was written in response to a student’s query about the elements of a Short Story with examples. I could have made the ending a little more spicy while posting it here but I prefer not to change it at all. I beg your forgiveness in case I have disappointed you.)

Dear Krishna,

Story writing is fun and the best tip for story writing, the best way of perfecting, mastering the art of story writing is by trying to write stories on your own. You’ll, with each attempted story, get better at it, and a time may come when you will be able to comment on and evaluate your story yourself, I mean, the strengths and loopholes of your story will be visible to you and with a little bit of additions here and a little bit of deletions there, you will bring your story to life.

I’ve been thinking a lot about your request since last night and decided to send, not one of my earlier stories to you but a story written solely for you in the last hour (thank God, tomorrow is the School Picnic and my hands are not so full). You were asking about this character development, so let us start with the

Character first. The character needs a name, so let’s call him Krishna. He cannot be a static, stagnant character. The characters of our stories should be realistic and lifelike and will undergo a phenomenal character reversal at the end. Before we proceed any further, let’s select a Theme for our story. What about the basic goodness of humans for the theme of the story? You think it may be a good idea?

Now before we proceed any further, let me tell you this – like some of our students do it, I don’t like using foreign names.

What’s wrong with Dorji, Deki, Samten or Wangyel, for the matter? The use of these names will make our story look more real. So we will be using Bhutanese names and places. For the Setting of our story, we will be using the familiar surroundings, something we have a lot of knowledge of, right? So, now you have got the theme, setting, characters. I am sure you are aware of the different Parts of the Plot, i.e. Exposition (your main characters need to be introduced at the earliest, most probably through the first paragraph itself), the Opening Incident will point to the conflict of the story (your story will be bereft of all charm if there is no strong conflict), the Rising Action will be the series of actions leading up to the Climax, the turning point of the story, like if we are writing about basic human goodness, we will start by portraying our hero or protagonist in a negative manner– he is very cruel by nature, he loves making fun of others faults even to the extent of being extremely rude and cruel. But in the Climax, he would undergo a change as a result of an experience. And right you are in thinking that he won’t be the same boy again. His basic goodness will come to the fore after the experience or incident as a result of the main conflict within him being resolved in the Denouement.

Now, we’ve got the basic idea, let’s not waste any more time. Oh, I forgot one very important thing – the Title of the story. What would you like your story to be called? You say you are stuck? So am I. Ok, let’s do the easy thing then, something you can do in the exam hall as well without wasting a lot of time in order to think of a proper title. We will write the title once we have finished writing our story together, ok?

The Best of the Worst Student

“Wai, DB, we have English in the next period. Let’s have some fun, yaar. The break-neck speed of the last few weeks is killing me. Let’s have some fun at RNB Sir’s expense…”

The class stood up to greet the teacher as he made his way to the class after the breather. “Good afternoon, Sir. What’re you gonna teach us today.”

Though Mr. RNB didn’t like his tone, he greeted him back all the same. “Afternoon, Krishna. Today we are going to read the next part of the story: Simple Arithmetic. You remember what we learnt from the previous class?”

“Was it not about the girl who was made pregnant by her Science Instructor and committed suicide? Sir, may I ask you a question?

What would you have done to the girl if you were the Science Instructor?” A few giggles were heard around the class. Now a teacher has to be cool and patient under all circumstances. Though RNB knew where the discussion was leading to, he tried answering a beaming Krishna’s question to the best he could: “I’d have married the girl, Krishna. You know, I don’t believe in this one-night stand. Marriage is an union of two souls, something beautiful between two persons. I would’ve married her and tried to provide her all kinds of social security and acceptance. I’d have never let her feel down and degraded …”

“Sir, what would you have done if the girl happened to be your daughter? Would you have accepted her and let her stay with you. Wouldn’t it get your neighbours talking?”

“I know what you are trying to get at, but let me tell you that if my daughter found herself caught in such a complication, I wouldn’t have turned away my face. I’d have done everything in my power to keep her under my roof, no matter what the rest of the world might think about her..”

“Sir, how is your daughter? She’s very beautiful. We’re good friends. Please convey my good wishes and love….”

“I surely will. Now Krishna, if we can proceed with the rest of the story. So, as we learnt from the previous lesson, the girl took her own life. She thought betrayed, besmeared. She felt there was no other option left to her….We’ll talk about the justice or injustice of her situation later, but before that, may I request Pavitra to continue reading from where we left yesterday?”

As Pavitra stood up from her chair, Krishna, still standing, looked disappointed. He turned his head, spotted Dil Kumar looking at him, exchanged a knowing smile and sat down. During the interval, both Dil Kumar and Krishna had hearty laugh thinking about the discomfiture posed to RNB by Krishna’s personal questions.

Krishna was absent in the next English class. Naturally, he did not bother to submit his homework using his absence as a lame pretext. Mr. RNB wasn’t exactly happy but being a considerate man by nature, he decided not to press the matter any further, though the class was assigned the task in the previous week. He spent the next half hour or so in explaining the different elements of the story before noticing Krishna sound asleep on the last bench.

“Krishna, what’s the matter? What’s your problem? Why are you sleeping in the class?” RNB finally looked like getting into a temper. Not Krishna though. He was absolutely calm while answering the questions.

“Sir, last night I’d my best friend’s birthday bash at Karma Hotel. The party lasted till 12.30. I’s back home by 1 only. I couldn’t catch the required sleep….”

“This is preposterous, Krishna! If you couldn’t have enough sleep, you should have stayed back home. Why did you bother to come to school today?”

“Sir, I didn’t want to miss your class. English is important, you know.” The whole class broke into a chuckle at his innocent tone. These simple banters between RNB and Krishna became a daily routine as the year rolled around. Though RNB was not firmer with Krishna, some of the friends knew that Krishna was taking advantage of him.

On a Wednesday it was raining like cats and dogs. Krishna was on his way back home after the Club Hour, when something caught his attention. He had left the Tsimalakha market behind, going past the last shop through the short cut with the main road up above and the newly come up carpentry shade with the raw planks left outside on the other. The make shift steps leading down to the Zero Point looked deadly difficult to manage and the plants creeping out on the trail from the fence, made walking even more dangerous when he noticed Mr. RNB trying to walk up the muddy steps. He was completely drenched as normally he did not carry an umbrella. His sweater was soaking to his body with his leather bag clinging by the side. He looked like losing his balance any time soon as his glasses were dripping and hazy. Then it happened, like it happens in the movies. He tried to raise one foot up, not so cautiously either. The other foot became wobbly instantaneously and, low and behold, Mr. RNB was going down like he wasn’t going to get back on his feet again! Krishna stood like a statue. Something in his mind told him – serves him right. He always acts so smart with us. But the other voice, the more powerful one, cautioned him saying that Mr. RNB was like his father. Aged, withered, wrinkled, all by himself in a foreign land. Someone who had spent the better part of his life in teaching young minds like him. Next moment, he found himself running. Yes, you got it right. Krishna was running down the muddy, slithering steps with the grasses and plants snaking out for a hiss, without a care about his own safety. He went down on his knees beside the still body of his teacher. Holding him by the hands, Krishna tried to lift him to his feet, unsuccessfully.

“Sir, are you all right. Can you help me lift you up? Sir, please, can you hear me?” The still body of RNB showed no signs of life. His clothes were all muddied and blood was oozing out of his nose. He also had a gaping cut on his forehead. But Krishna had no time to worry about the bruises and cuts. There was a slight twitch near the corner of the left eye. The rest of the body was defunct, irresponsive. But something told Krishna that there was still hope. The rain had turned into a drizzle by then. He could also hear some voices up above on the main road. Some friends were on their way back after the rain.

“Hello, can anyone hear me? Can you please come down? It’s our Sir, Sir RNB. He’s fallen down, unconscious, badly injured….please. Oh, God, please help us….” Even Krishna was surprised at the trembling voice coming out from inside of him.

They say God always listens to your earnest prayer. Soon help materialized in the form of some students. Someone called an ambulance, someone brought a car. Some other people carried RNB up to the car. He was rushed to the Tsimalakha Hospital.

Krishna became nothing sort of a hero in school from the next day on. The social media was full of his heroics, how he saved Mr. RNB at the risk of his own life. The day Mr. RNB came back to school, he, being a very emotional man, wiped off the tears welling up in his eyes before acknowledging Krishna in the class.

“I thought I knew everything about every student. You proved me wrong, Krishna. You’ve taught me that even those students we do not seem to care two hoots about us, think the world of us. We’re what we are because of students like

Krishna.”                

The End

[That’s the end of the story, Krishna, but something still is left, remember? The Title. From the last few lines it becomes clear that Mr. RNB did not think highly of Krishna. In his opinion, he was just like one of the worst, useless students. So, take note of the word ‘worst’. But this very worst student rendered his best services in Mr. RNB’s hour of crisis. Take note of the word ‘best’. From the worst to the best is a long jump, right? So how about entitling our story as “The Best of The Worst Student”? Please let me know if you can think of any other relevant or appropriate title. All the best in your story writing and love you. ]

The end