[Reader-list] The Rickshawalla and the promised Rs Twenty Five

[inder salim]

The Rickshawalla and the Promised  Rs.Twenty Five


"Rickshaw, Rickshaw, Rickshaw",
It was dark, when I called him, and
Came a structure to halt.

He was lean, dark skinned, sunken eyes,
In comparison to his bright plastic seat cover print
Of Apples on Mustard-Yellow.

"Hospital Gate", I said,
He said, " Pachees" ( twentyfive )
I said,  "Bees" ( twenty ), and he moved.

But he stopped, and we moved into
His comfortable new Rickshaw, and
The wheels moved on.

Normally, I engage a Rickshawalla into
A friendly conversation
Which often results into a happy ending,

With a rich insight into the life
Of these poor simpletons,
Who hail from nearby towns around Delhi.

Today, with my spouse, I was silent,
 lost in the maze of my own world: that
random overlapping of thoughts, you know.

That way the short distance got reduced
Even more, and brought the rickshaw
to a sudden halt.

I was home,
And  I instantly gave him
Exactly Rs. Fifteen only

He instantly  shot back
And said "Bees bola tha" ( I said Twenty )
But I said, "Pandra bola tha" ( I said Fifteen).

He was furious, and grabbed my arm
And demanded the difference
Of Rs. Five.

We argued, but I was sure
That I had promised him Rs.fifteen only.
But he was too adamant.

This little fight attracted
A ready-made audience.
And we did disappoint none.

I argued, in front of the public:
Don't they charge Rs.Ten to Rs.Fifteeen
For this small distance?

But he stuck to just one point
"Aapp to kuhd hi Bees bol kar
Rickshaw mein baith gaiya"

( it was you who told me Rs Twenty
Before getting into the rickshaw )
In the heat of the moment, not only I forgot, but

I threatened him Police Action,
And to my surprise, he was more than willing
to bring Law into all of this.

But I knew, he had little chance
To convince the Police
And who might thrash him as well

" Aab tum java, zayaada Bakwas mat karao "
( Now you go, and stop this nonsense )
But he kept on venting this anger.

Some one, in the crowd, even suggested
" Gareeb hai, paanch ruppeay ki to baat hai "
( He is poor, just a matter of Rs. Five )

But something had blocked my thinking, so
I balanced his slang with a slang.
While we grabbed each others collars.

But from the beginning,  I knew, he would not
Win. My height, my English and my financial status,
Was light years ahead of him.

Finally, my wife succeeded in dragging
Me out from the fighting situation,
But I stuck on Rs.Fifteen thing.

" Katora lay kay bait java churahay paar "
( sit with a begging bowl at some crossing )
He said, while moving away.

This charged me again,  and I again started
To abuse him with a slang
Which he genuinely rewarded back to me.

A fencing separated him and me,
As I moved away from the battle zone.
An overwhelming silence enveloped me.

I kept on rubbing my left arm; there
Was no pain, but I kept on scratching
The skin of it, mindlessly.

And then slowly and slowly, I remembered
The promised Rs. Twenty.
But he was gone.

I quickly moved back
Through another gate,
To catch him somewhere, out there.

But he was gone.
There were so many Rickshawalas around,
But he was gone.

A Road Roller flattened me.
I don't know how to be sad, even.
Shanti, Shanti, Shanti looked dysfunctional.