Rickshaw on road
The plains of South-east Asia. Rarely you shall find someone in these parts of the world who has never ridden a rickshaw. The riskshaw-wala uncles had taken us around our small towns. In fact they were the only means of public transport where I grew up as a child. In big cities they would supplement the auto-rickshaws and city-buses. But they were always there.
Poets wrote about them and their physical hardship in pulling fellow human beings' load. About their life and sorrow. And how lucky the fortunes had been for them when the e-rickshaws came on to conquer the roads. I hardly see rickshaws anymore. Most of them who were not too old to learn or too poor to invest have dumped manual ones for electric powered rickshaws. Good for both the riders and the driver (now they don't pull anymore, but drive!).
Only the handful of those who couldn't effort or learn are dwindling away each day.
Poets wrote about them and their physical hardship in pulling fellow human beings' load. About their life and sorrow. And how lucky the fortunes had been for them when the e-rickshaws came on to conquer the roads. I hardly see rickshaws anymore. Most of them who were not too old to learn or too poor to invest have dumped manual ones for electric powered rickshaws. Good for both the riders and the driver (now they don't pull anymore, but drive!).
Only the handful of those who couldn't effort or learn are dwindling away each day.
Pen on paper
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