CHENNAI: In a classroom where children once sat cross-legged on hard floors, a single wooden bench became a throne of possibility. For T Gajendran, that bench was more than furniture; it was the first rung on a ladder that led him out of a cycle where education had always ended at Class 5. Today, at 24, he is the first graduate in his family, a milestone that would have seemed impossible in Murungai village, where hardship was as familiar as the empty benches that never knew the weight of a child’s book.
Gajendran’s journey began in a home where financial constraints cast long shadows over dreams. “My father is a mason, and many villagers depend on daily-wage work. Until a few years ago, our village had only a primary school. Hardship was part of our everyday lives,” he recalls. Determined to pursue higher education, he travelled to a nearby town, but college fees loomed like an insurmountable wall. “We were helpless due to our financial situation. That was when S Vijayakrishnan (67), a social activist and journalist, came forward to support me. With his help, I completed my BSc in Computer Science at a private college in Chennai,” he says.
Vijayakrishnan’s intervention was not a one-time act of charity but part of a lifelong mission rooted in his own family’s history. “My father S V Seshadri was a school teacher who died when I was just six years old. During the 1950s, my father took the initiative to establish a primary school in Siruthamur with the objective of improving literacy among children in the village,” he says. The school, funded by his mother Seetha Ammal’s earnings to educate the poor, was later handed over to the state government and upgraded from a primary to a middle school.
Though Vijayakrishnan began his career in banking, his heart remained in the villages. He walked the red-earth paths, spoke to families, and listened to the silent stories of dropout children. He saw classrooms without benches, schools without toilets, and children whose potential was stifled by lack of basic infrastructure. “I visited schools in villages and saw children sitting on the floor and studying. It was uncomfortable to see and affected me deeply. Many schools did not even have proper toilet facilities,” he says. The image haunted him — “When birds from different countries come to a sanctuary, they sit comfortably on the branches. I thought, why should students have to sit on the floor?”
That question sparked a movement. Vijayakrishnan began buying benches and desks, but as the number of schools grew, so did the realisation that individual efforts were like drops in an ocean. In 2016, he formalised his vision by founding the Siruthamur Sri Srinivasar Charitable Trust. The trust adopted five villages — Siruthamur , Senayaneri, Veliyambakkam, Vadamanibakkam and Anandhamangalam — and turned discarded furniture into renewed hope.
“Many private schools and companies came forward and donated their discarded benches and desks. We collected them, reworked them, including painting, and sent them to government schools in villages. We have carpenters, painters and other workers separately for these works,” Vijayakrishnan says.
School attendance surged in Siruthamur after basic facilities were introduced, according to local parent Dhivya. However, for Vijayakrishnan, infrastructure was merely the first step. He remained deeply concerned by the sharp divide between rural and urban youth regarding employment and higher education. To bridge this gap, the trust started offering career guidance, equipping students to navigate college admissions and interview processes.
The support given to Gajendran exemplifies this approach. A student from a financially struggling family was able to continue his education and become the first graduate in his family, breaking a generational pattern. “Hundreds of students from our village and surrounding areas have also benefited from his support,” Gajendran adds.
Beyond education, Vijayakrishnan’s work has touched other aspects of village life. With villagers’ participation, he has helped restore small waterbodies, encouraging residents to take responsibility for protecting local resources.
From classrooms without benches to children who struggle to remain in school, Vijayakrishnan’s work has focused on problems often taken for granted in urban areas. And for Gajendran, the impact is deeply personal. His graduation has broken a pattern that continued in his family for generations. A college degree now hangs in the family’s story, a reminder of how a single intervention can alter the course of a young person’s life, turning a bench into a bridge.
(Edited by Divya Ramkumar)