In response to daily post’s prompt : Daring
It was my final year in Dhaka University Bangladesh, I felt good my education in this particular university was coming to an end. I could feel the cool breeze telling me, ‘twelve months and then you’ll be free.’
Suddenly I noticed a lady on campus, whom I never saw before, I asked my friends, ‘Who is she?’
‘She teaches French.’ They told me.
‘I want to register in her class.’ I told them.
They gave me a look of, ‘Surprise.’ ‘Do you have any basic knowledge in French?’ They asked me.
Of course I don’t but I can learn I said. To them it was a very bold move. They dared me to go and talk to the teacher, they were sure I’d be rejected.
Next morning I went to the university early to see if I could talk to her. Lucky me, she was standing in front of her classroom. I went towards her and without any introduction, I said, ‘I want to register in your class.’
Immediately her reply was, ‘No you cannot, you are two months late.’
I pleaded with her, promised I’ll make up the months I missed, she looked at me and said, ‘I will give you one week, if you don’t show progress, I will not let you register.’
She asked my name, I told her, it’s Chaman Ara. She wrote it in her book. She accepted me in her class. I was thrilled.
From the time I started attending her class, she would say okay, Shaman Agha in her French accent, you answer the question. I was always alert, I knew if I wasn’t able to answer her questions she’d get rid of me. She asked me more questions than anyone else she wanted to be sure I was learning.
The year passed quickly, she took me aside one day and said, ‘I’m very pleased with your work.’ She even invited me to go to Paris and study French. It was not possible financially, I was happy she liked me.