Rickshaw and the Puller

Rickshaw is everything to a rickshaw puller.

Rickshaw though born in Japan,

The land of the rising sun,

Reaches many nations,

Aiming to extend beauty and offer, for the poor, options.    

 

The rickshaw of three wheels,

The puller pensively feels,

Has been a blessing,

Ever since his own wheel of fortune is in confused swing. 

 

It’s his Mercedes helping him earn the bread,         

Even its least trouble makes him utterly mad,

Some days prove to be literal cornucopia,

Others give birth to misery inside the messy dystopia.

 

Pulling the much-loved rickshaw is what he is destined to do,

Whether soaked in rain or prevented by the sunlight, the wheels must go,

Lunch time for him bears hardly any meaning at times,

The children’s faces let him forget all the sadness while he climbs.

 

The rickshaw is his existence, the true friend ever,

As if Helios’ ‘chariot of the sun’ has transformed its nature, 

Regardless of slight sporadic healing, it’s always ready to rock,

The puller doesn’t give a damn if the drivers of motor vehicles try to mock.

Reviews

[raj24]

so often i had talked to these rikshaw pullers...they come from far lands to earn..and these rikshaws give them that option and their families a life they can feel good about to sum extent..i must say its really a hard job.. pulling it in the noon when most peopl prefer to stay at home..or in rain when its hard to pull it..they carry them without much worries... hats off to their courage and to u too for writing such a beautiful piece for them.. thanks for sharing:)

Raj

[Md. Ziaul Haque]

Thank you so much for your wonderful comment.