I am a rickshaw-driver and popularly know is `rickshawala’
in our part of the world. That is the name by which I am called. Sometimes
passengers shorten my title and call out Halloo, rickshaw’ as if I am the
vehicle that I ply. But I know what they mean and at once rush to their
service. I cannot afford to have any false sense of vanity either.
I am poor but not miserable. I suffer poverty but no
unhappiness. I fell proud to earn my living by the honest sweat of my brow. I thank
my star that I am not a thief.
I driver a there-wheeled vehicle that you call `rickshaw’. I
do not own my carriage yet but hope to buy one in the near future. Nonetheless
I love the `rickshaw’ that gives me an honorable living. I love it with the care
of a father and always ply with caution and tenderness. I keep it neat and tidy
and protect it from rain and son.
Shall I tell you a bit of my daily life? Yes, let me tell
you. You may find it somewhat interesting. I rise quite early in the morning,
eat my poor but pleasant breakfast, and go out with my there wheeled car. At
times I have to paddle a long way off before I get a passenger. As the sun
rises higher and higher, my trouble increases. How difficult it is, after all
to drive along several mounds of weight with no stronger things than two human
legs. And often I have to run for miles without any income. But on the whole my
income is good. After meeting the dues of the cruel, I am left enough to feed
my family except on rare occasions when natural calamities disturb my work.
Usually I work from morning to sunset, with a break in the midday for lunch. Generally after a long trip.
I rest for a while and take some repast.
I have a home- a small but loving home where I live with my
loving wife and beloved children. When I go out in the morning, my children see
me off at the door. When I return home in the evening they receive me on the
adjacent road. They rush out of my small cottage as soon as they hear the sound
of my bell. As I go in with them, my living wife receives me with a smile and
then sits by me fanning off my fatigue. Shortly, afterwards we all eat our
dinner together and go to bed rather early.
But on top of all my joys I have a permanent fear which robs
me of much of the relish of life. I have no security. I am now young and
energetic and can keep off starvation by the power of my muscles. But what will
happen when I grow old? Who will feed my children if I fall sick or die of an
accident? Whenever I think of these problems. I find no reply. But I depend on
God and believe firmly that He will give me and my family the protection we
deserve.
Bad but fact full
ReplyDeleteVery bad nothing can be understood
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