It’s a given fact that most people sleep in class. The frontbenchers do it with their eyes wide open and the back benchers with their eyes wide shut. No prizes for guessing who gets caught. Hunger strikes you at the most inappropriate situations. As a frontbencher, you are subject to minutes of acute starvation. Dry chapattis and soggy chips never tasted better. Only a back bencher would know. You strain to see the blackboard and hear what the teacher is saying. A lot of it never made sense, never has and probably never will. As a result, I can listen to music only at extremely high decibel levels and at some point of time have ended up with glasses. These are the sacrifices I have made to be a back bencher. At times lightning strikes you suddenly and they say “I want to check your book.” The frontbenchers cringe that their notes are not complete. A black mark on their otherwise illustrious record. The back benchers are the ones with sense. Their record remains impeccable and ...