Every weekday morning class-three student Abdur Rashid, who attends Jessore Government Primary School in Dinajpur's Bochanganj upazila, gets ready for school. He knows he has to be on time for class, with homework done. Abdur's daily routine is one many primary students would recognise. There's little to distinguish him from classmates, apart from the fact that he's 62 years old.

“When I first told the headmaster I wanted to enrol he refused on account of my age,” recalls Abdur, “but eventually I convinced him. I wanted to learn how to read. I would do the same work as the children in my class.” That was two years ago.

It's for the first time in his life the farmer is studying. Born into a struggling family there wasn't an opportunity for schooling during his youth. There wasn't even a village school. Abdur grew up without an education and never so much as thought to learn basic reading. “The years passed that way,” he says. “I couldn't understand writing at all.”

Then in 2012 he faced financial crisis. “Being from a farming family a lack of money wasn't uncommon; from time to time crops incur losses,” Abdur explains. “But in 2012 I decided to pawn 40 decimals of land to raise funds for a new paddy crop.”

That he did. But after selling the crop, when he returned to the pawnbroker to repay the money to retrieve his land, the broker told him that he had sold it to him.

“It was a big disaster in my life,” Abdur says. “It was late but I properly understood that illiteracy is nothing but a curse. I resolved then and there to go to school.”

Upon entering the classroom, with eight-year-olds for classmates, Abdur was nervous. “It took a few months to settle in,” he recalls. “At first to understand the letters of the Bangla and English alphabets was quite difficult.”

Initially too he wore lungi to class, until his teachers requested that he wear trousers like the other students do. “I bought and experienced the feeling of wearing trousers for the first time in my life,” says Abdur with a smile.

There was also the matter of how he would relate to his much younger classmates. “At first we felt shy when he joined our class,” says ten-year-old fellow student Jharna Rani, “but now it's normal. He is our classmate and our friend.”

“The children in my class are very good to me,” says Abdur. “They call me Bondhu and I call them the same.” In Bangla, bondhu means friend. “Maybe our ages are different,” he continues, “but academically we're the same.”

There is no difference either between Abdur's other school activities and those of his friends. On days when they have a physical exercise lesson he does it too; like his classmates, every afternoon means attending a coaching centre.

Thus, despite initial apprehension his academic career is proceeding nicely. “Abdur has done well in all his exams,” says Anil Chandra Roy, the school's headmaster. “He has also established good rapport with the other students.”

“I can read and write now,” says Abdur, proudly. “It's been my greatest joy. I'm determined to see it through and complete my Primary School Certificate.”

There is, however, an age limit for Primary School Certificate candidates. “We are really impressed by Abdur Rashid's enthusiasm,” says Saifuz Zaman, an officer of the district's primary education department. “If needed, we will be happy to write a special request letter to the ministry to ensure he can sit for his certificate exams despite his age.”

Of course in other ways his life is more usual for a sexagenarian. The widower, whose wife died of sudden illness in 2001, has one daughter who he supported through her own schooling. He has a granddaughter too, currently studying for her Higher School Certificate.

In Jessore village and beyond, Abdur Rahim's determination and passion for learning later in life have inspired. From his example many local parents have come to better appreciate the benefits of their children's education, best completed now, while sons and daughters are yet young.