During an exchange programme with a school in France, I noticed something I had never noticed before - rickshaws do not have doors! The first time I went in a rickshaw with my French correspondent, my eyes widened. How comfortable would she feel? Would she be afraid of a vehicle like this without doors? I glanced sideways at her. But like a true exchange student, she had come with an open mind. I saw her steel herself and deliberately remain silent with respect to this doorless wonder. I breathed a sigh of relief. Inside the rickshaw, she looked around, confused. "What happened?" I asked. She looked at me in horror. "There are no seatbelts?" … [Read more...]
Cycle Rickshaw
When I went to Kolkata for my entrance exams, I stayed with a friend's family. The first day there, Uncle took me in a cycle rickshaw. He warned me, "Don't pay more than 8 rupees to these rickshaw-wallahs. They'll charge you anything. They know you don't come from Calcutta." I listened and nodded and cringed as the rickshaw-wallah bumped us over steep slopes and potholes. His lungi was torn. He was barefoot. Uncle dropped me at the university and went home. To get home myself, I diffidently approached a cycle rickshaw. If I knew my way home, I know I would simply have walked. "Golf Green?" I asked, hopefully. The man lowered his eyes. Realising I definitely did not speak Bangla, he said for me in Hindi, "Bees (20) rupaya." I nodded gratefully. I cringed and clenched my hands as he laboured all the way home. When I reached, Uncle asked how much I paid. "Eight rupees," I said, … [Read more...]