The modern Mahabharata,
"Seventeen!"
"No! Nineteen!"
The treaty of versailles
with due considerations
"Eighteen Rupees?"
"Hop in!"
Slow and sluggish,
entertaining.
A fixed destination,
varying speed
and a fluttering butterfly.
A blue butterfly races along,
trying to overtake my rickshaw.
It's an intriguing contest-
the butterfly just fluttered away
into the blue sky
and white clouds.
Did she win? Did I win?
Bumpy roads
full of stones
and mud.
Wheels rolling into the mud
and mud upon the passerby.
"Come back, you fool!"
But my rickshawpuller turns deaf.
Guilty, but satisfied,
he pulls away harder
and looks back
after one long minute-
he smiles again.
There's no music,
but the rickshaw-puller's history-
his name, his father's name,
his seven children,
his problems, his joys.
He ran away from home when he was nine,
started pulling a rickshaw at eleven,
married at twenty three.
Words in rhythem with his legs
upon the pedal.
very interesting.
I yawn.
Passing through the slums
I cover my nose with a white handkerchief.
Ugh! The stench.
The children laugh.
"HA! Arrogant 'sahib'"
they run after my rickshaw
probably trying to ensure
that I leave their kingdom
as soon as possible.
I'm too "happy" for them.
I'm too mighty for them.
The peanut seller!
"Stop! Just one second"
"Hurry up sahib, I have to rush.
I have to pick three school kids
and drop them at their houses."
Guilt!
Mom said don't eat from the hawkers.
"They're very unhealthy.
They're very middle-class."
Grandma gave me five rupees.
"There's a hawker in the street,
I heard him yelling.
Try bargaining with him.
These hawkers sell good stuff-
not at all expensive."
Restless rickshawpuller yelled-
"Sahib, please don't just stand there.
I'm late!"
Grandma's older, and wiser.
I followed her advise.
"Peanuts for 10 rupees please,
don't try and cheat me,
and please be fast."
Not a word from the hawker,
just a smile,
and a packet full of warm peanuts.
Back upon the rickshaw,
back upon my throne.
I'm a king again.
Peeling the peanuts,
popping them into my mouth.
Throwing the peels on the ground.
Policemen too busy,
demanding bribes from poor villagers.
I hope the peels don't leave a trail.
Enter the city,
I'm home!
Sudden noises of blaring horns,
I drop my bag of peanuts.
Traffic lights
restless eyes.
The rickshaw is deemed too slow.
Abuses hurled upon my rickshawpuller.
He doesn't look back.
I think they just insulted his mum...
he looked back, and shouts
something in some weird language.
Green light.
The scent of the gutters reminds me-
Home is not too far.
Paan all over the walls.
"Don't pee here" posters.
And a man peeing on the posters.
A temple, and the priest-
the priest drinking out of a bottle...
a green bottle.
"It's probably water
in an old bottle of wine"
says a couple.
"He must be feeling cold"
says another,
before he falls unconscious.
This is home.
Seven narrow alleys,
mine's the fourth one.
"Sahib, the rickshaw won't go any further"
I jump off the rickshaw silently.
A wrinkled twenty rupee note,
whose surface is as old as grandpa's face.
"Sahib, I don't have two rupees"
They lie with such conviction!
"Keep them"
I walk away from the rickshaw,
my rickshaw.
My blue, red and yellow rickshaw.
No farewell, no parting speech.
I walk into my house.
Mom's standing at the door-
she's been waiting for me long.
"Why do you have peanut peels
all over your shirt?
Did you eat from the hawker again?
How middle-class!"
Author notes
Written October 21st, 2006
~The Risen Sun
Male Contestant
A contest entry
- 1,000 points and a gold - UP FOR GRABS! by happypurplepumpkin.
1000 points, ended October 30, 2006, 17 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - STAFF ONLY CONTEST by Kari.
450 points, ended December 17, 2006, 8 entries
Honorable mention
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - Enter Your Best Prewrite by xxRainbowDawnxx.
300 points, ended February 25, 2007, 105 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - One Hundred Poems by Lady-Pegasus.
700 points, ended April 10, 2007, 54 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - All Poetry TEEN Idol Season Five: Casting Call by Tangled Angle.
300 points, ended April 22, 2007, 18 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
What did you think
Comments
1 - 25 of 25
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Yes
not your strongest, but I am aware of your other poems.
With this alone, you show potential anyway.
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strange...last time you said "This is one of my favorites by you." The only reason why I entered this. lol
Looking forward to another season of the TI.
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lol udit, i've learned a lot more about poetry, and techniques, etc.. you'll see some slight changes in my preferences.
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Thank you for your contest submission as well as for following the rules.
Thank you for this wonderful peek into a world I know little about, the story not just told but an experience shared in wonderful imagery and detail! Best of luck in this and all of your endeavors.
Hetohke'e * 
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I left a comment before hand but wanted to say good luck!
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one question, Udit..when did Risksha pullers learned to talk in english?
Did u teach them Or was that Rikshaw puller an AP member 
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good
Wow this was wonderful! I enjoyed reading it I could even picture this poem in my mind tho I've never been there
Good luck in the contest!
Kari -
not that extremely long Ok, finally I read another free verse from you, inspired from Sonja's comment...well some parts really struck me for a while...especially that 'happy' and the throne one...
The end is really great, an art of Indian misunderstnading and the journey is almost a ride through the Indian poverty and some so called 'middle', 'higher' and 'lower' class thoughts and attitude...I didn't expect such a social write from a cheerful writer than you, but it must be nominated for the front page! For the first time the depth of any free verse really left an impact!
3 cheers for ya!
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Hey, I'm from Delhi too.
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wow i really like this poem, and even though it is very long, it is well written and descriptive, and keeps the readers attention, unlike some of the longer poems. i really like it also because i can relate so well to the poem, as i like in New Delhi, and also take rickshaws
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keep on writing and really nice job
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this is good
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WOW.......... VERY long, but worth the wait. Thanx SOOO much for entering.... we just learned about this stuff in Social Studies... hehe a lesson all over again. lol... It was good.... a better lesson than the boring old stuff we learned in school.
~Kizzy Kat -
Thanks for commenting. Actually no, this picture is taken from Google.....the poem is about "Dilwaalon ki Dilli".
~Udit -
Thanks a lot.
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lol that was a fun ride as long as someone else actually sat in the rickshaw and all i had to do was read it and enjoy the ride, there are no ricks where I live but whenever we lived or travelled to Hyderabad we used to take ricks many are the bumpy memories I have of those days. my favourite ones were the flower sellers on Chaderghat pul and the sun setting behind Osmania hospital i dont know which city you have written on but from the pic I guess it is somewhere in the south???
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You have taken me on a trip where I saw so many things I have never seen before. Filled with so many visual images that it was as if I was acutally along for the ride. Congratulations on winning gold in this contest - no contest for you!
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You peanut fellow!!! Gosh this was fun reading! Entertainment thru'out! A brilliant story told through your wonderful style of writing. Somehow I couldnt see the picture, but never mind. It also took me to a time, I felt like this, of course not in the streets, but you know when I was little, my grandma had a little cart where I used to be seated on, and all the neighbours kids and use to drag me all ove the village when I went to spend my summer holidays there! now wasnt I the King?
LOL!!! The cart used to be still there when I saw it last about 14 years ago and next I heard the barn collapsed! Ah! so much for those childhood days, the most wonderful days!
Thanks for writing this and sharing your experience, you peanut fellow!
Lencio
Edited on Oct 29, 4:41 because 'spellings!'.
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This was great... The dialogue in here was essential to the story- I love indirect characterization. You didn't directly say that his mother was a bitch, but you know through the dialogue we all got the impression that she is a stuck up arrogant snob! lol
The characters and the events and the metaphors.. you totally kicked butt in this poem. I am surprised this wasn't entered into a contest, however this shows how much you are passionate about writing this- you just wrote it- just to make you happy- not for a contest. You have done very well at what you love to do. And for that I applaud this.
This is one of my favorites by you.
Read my poem: When you comment, leave me a link to another one of your poems. allpoetry.com/Poem/2289284
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dearest uditji,
I just loved my ride in the rickshaw !
this was such a colorful and well written little story, I felt like being right there with you in the streets of delhi ... and the peanuts were really good, thank you ! the smell was a bit strong for me ... I am a bit spoiled here in my little hillside village ...
so, you don't listen to your mum, ha ?
maybe you could offer her some flowers next time you spare some extra pocket-money ...
much love,
maa -
Thanks for the comment, Jim. I appreciate it.
~Udit -
Thank you so much dear.....would it make you jealous if I told you that I go through this everyday?
~udit -
Oh Sonja, thank you so much. What a wonderful response. I wrote this in my head while sitting on a rickshaw....infact, quite a lot of instances are true.
~Udit -
Oh, this take me a time to read but it worth each second, each minte I spent on your site. I have a feeling that I was there in the same rickshaw, I can feet the taste of warm peanuts, I can hear the sounds and voices from India; I can smell it and taste it. This is a little bit longer poem, almost story and in my opinion this is a real masterpiece. India, be proud, you have a new master of poetry!
I am impressed with following simple words but fill of deep meaning. I can read a history within this lines.
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There's no music,
but the rickshaw-puller's history-
his name, his father's name,
his seven children,
his problems, his joys.
Words in rhythm with his legs
upon the pedal.
very interesting.
I yawn.
~
I will put this poem in my AP - Feature Chapbook.
~Sonja~
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Interesting story from the life in India. Very good, Udit! I could feel I was the one sitting in the rickshaw, eating peanuts, looking at life as it passed by. Great poem! You have my applause! Thanks for sharing! Jim
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AWESOME!
What a wonderful journey! So many different classes of people in the city. Everyone always finds fault with each other, but we just pass by without a glance, I could not live the city life myself. I am a country boy who loves the serentiy and peace the solitude of the country brings. This is a captivating poem of what to me would be an amazing ride.
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