The Rickshaw wala

Ram lal woke up just at the break of dawn.The sunlight piercing through the tarpaulin sheets of his make shift hut woke him up.Every part of his body was aching from the previous days hard work.

He had had to carry a rich Babu and his luggage from bow bazaar to college street yesterday and another fat lady who kept on shouting at him to move faster.

Ram Lal looked at the bruises on his hands, It’s a hard life he thought, carrying people and their luggage, being cursed by passengers and commuters alike.All of this for a meager salary almost half of which goes to the rickshaw owner.

But this was all there was to his life he had moved from Bihar to calcutta with dreams in his eyes.When he could not find any decent job he rented a rickshaw and he has been on this job for 10 years now.He hopes to own a rickshaw one day.

For Ram Lal atleast there is something to look forward to every morning .He loves giving Mrs Sen a ride so that she can buy vegetables.she is always gentle with him and keeps asking about his well being from time to time.  He is glad to give a ride to someone so considerate and kind in this world of blood sucking monsters.

Mrs Sen was waiting for him in front of her house.Dressed in a crisp cotton sari and wet hair she looked resplendent Her charm and demeanour always attracted him towards her but the kumkum on her head and his own tattered lungi brought him back to reality.

"Ki re kemon achis shorir thik ache toh tor?"

“How are you hope you are in good health?”asked Mrs Sen.

“Hen thik hi achi”

“yes, I am fine”said Ram Lal

“Choti keno poris ni?”

“why are you not wearing your chappals?”asked Mrs Sen

“chide geche,ki aar kori?”

“those have worn out,what to do?”said RamLal.

He always watched her with loving eyes as she went from one shop to another scrutinizing the vegetables closely and bargaining with every vendor.

On their way back to Mrs Sen’s house Ram Lal asked her how was his husband, at this Mrs Sen could not utter a single word.She managed a dull “bhalo achen” with downcast eyes.It was then Ram Lal spotted a black bruise under her left eye as if someone had punched her in the eye.

“Ki go ?ki hoyeche choke?”

“what happened to your eye?”asked RamLal.

“kichu nei tui ja ekhon deri hoche”

“Nothing you go now, its getting late”.said Mrs Sen.

Ram Lal continued his work,  waiting for peddlers to ask him for a ride.But RamLal could not get Mrs. Sen out of his mind,the melancholy in her eyes haunted him throughout the day and even at night.

Next morning when Ram lal was cleaning up his rickshaw he overheard two women talking about Mrs Sen.

“Have you seen her, she is so badly bruised”

“I had heard noises coming out from their house last night, it has become a routine these days”

“what kind of  a man beats his wife these days?”

Ram Lal could not gather courage to stand there any longer,he rode as fast as he could.He was shocked,the sheer thought of Mrs Sen being beaten by her husband terrified him.

“cholo tada tadi ekhan theke ami tomake niye jabo amar deshe”

“lets get out of here quickly, I will take you to my state”said RamLal

“ki re ki shob bolchis? Ei dekh ami ki enechi tor jone?

“what are you saying,I don’t understand.Look what I have brought you.”said Mrs Sen

Mrs Sen gave him a pair of chappals.He cupped his hand in hers looking into her eyes with the reassurance of a protector.

Mrs Sen instantly withdrew her hands.

“ki re niye jabi na ki ajke? Chol deri hoche amake rana korte hobe badi phire”

“Won’t take me out today?Make it quick I have to cook when I come back”said Mrs Sen

“Ami sob jani sahab tomar songe bhalo byabhor kore na?Ami tomake niye jabo aamar deshe”

“I know everything, your husband does not behave with you,I will take you to my land” said RamLal

“tui janis tui ki bolchis se amar swami”

“Do you know what you are talking about ?He is my husband”said Mrs Sen.

With this Mrs Sen sent Ram Lal away. RamLal felt helpless.

The next morining Mrs Sen was again waiting for RamLal.He usually showed up at 8 am but it was 10 am now and he had not showed up yet.

Mrs Sen kept thinking of him ,she was growing immensely restless.She started speculating he will never come again.

Next day when Mrs Sen spotted RamLal outside her house, she could not contain the excitement , she ran right upto him.

“ki re kothaye chilis kalke , asli na keno?”

“ where were you yesterday, why didn’t you come?” asked Mrs Sen.

Suddenly she noticed RamLal’s rickshaw was missing.

“ki re tor rickshaw kothaye?”

“where is your rickshaw?” asked Mrs Sen.

“Sob sesh hoye geche aar kichu nei ekhane ami amar desh chole jabo”said RamLal.

“Everything has been destroyed ,nothing is left.I will go back to my state”

The government had sent orders to ban hand pulled rickshaws. They had seized and destroyed 12000 rickshaws ,Ramlal’s rickshaw was one among those 12000 rickshaws

They say a human being pulling another is inhuman.

RamLal wished in his heart , he could tell the government ,"there is nothing more inhuman than a man beating his wife."

P.S. I wanted to bring out two emotions through this story , the unspoken love between two people from different worlds and the plight of the hand pulled rickshaw walas of Kolkata.(I know the latter is more pronounced  in the story)

Indeed it is not a pretty sight to see a human being pulling another but to ban these rickshaws the govt. must ensure proper rehabilitation of the rickshaw walas first.

P.P.S The part about 12000 rickshaws being seized and destroyed is actually true , it happened in the year 1982 (No I was not even born then, wikipedia says so J).I hope the bangla is not that bad.