A Ride of Lifetime

The moment I noticed him properly I regretted my decision and nodded my head in exasperation. I wished I could undo it.

Yesterday evening I had to go to Dwarka Sector 6 market and upon reaching at Dwarka Sector 11 metro station I took a rickshaw to reach the market sooner. There was a long line of rickshaw pullers and I went for the first one. The guy was in his thirties, had an uncut beard and looked in shape. We agreed on twenty rupees and I boarded his rickshaw. But the moment he started paddling, I was shocked and looked in startled eyes to an unnerving scene. The young puller was polio affected and he was using his right hand only to handle the rickshaw. He was pushing his legs vigorously by his left hand with each paddling, visibly painstaking. He had to literally bend over his handle to force down his crippled legs one by one by his left hand and riding back I felt tremendous guilt. I reprimanded myself and wished I could undo my decision. But the time was gone.

To smother my culpability, I started gauche conversationand second by second my respect towards that dirty dressed bearded rickshaw puller grew mountainous and I looked at awe to the unbelievable grit and determination in front of me, still paddling the rickshaw through heavy traffic in a weird but confident way. He told me his name was Rajendar and he was from Sitapur district of Uttar Pradesh. After untimely death of his father, he had to abandon his study at class eight and had come to Delhi to stay with his fellow villagers and to earn by rickshaw pulling. He was doing that for ten years and was still unmarried. My questions became more personal, and Rajender answered them with a firm voice while carefully allowing passes to speeding cars and crossing busy roads. Only when I asked about his mother, his voice seemed choked with emotion and without turning back he narrated how his elder brothers ill-treated his mother after their marriages and his father’s death, and how she cooked alone in her village in her old age, and how being the youngest in family he felt helpless and sent meagre amount to his mother, after paying off daily rent of rickshaw and room. I wiped off amassed moistures from the corner of my eyes and was compelled to compare my life with his, and found me belittle.

I thought of having his picture in my mobile and tell his story like daily heroes in Facebook, but all I could manage after getting down from his rickshaw in market was to hold his hands firmly and persuade him taking two hundred rupees instead of twenty.

Upon finishing my work in market when I returned back metro station, now by foot, I noticed Rajender again in line, patiently waiting for his turn. This time I didn’t pity him rather felt immense proud for him. Wish I had the resolve and honesty this guy had! Next time he might forget me, but I would find him and would have a ride of lifetime.