Pradip Chattopadhyay

(28.01.1961 / Kolkata)

The Rickshaw Puller


Somehow he pulls along
He breathes
In his little width of life,
He gasps
In making that width
When moves flesh
That far outweighs
What he gets at the ride’s end,
Sweats it out in the sun
Splashes in the rain
A pedaling run
Joyless but gritty
That if can be made
Would fetch him his bread
From the rider in comfort
To the puller who transports
Mountains of loads
Knowing not to pause
Till drawn by fate
For a rest in sunset!

Submitted: Monday, August 12, 2013
Edited: Tuesday, August 27, 2013

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  • Valsa George (8/13/2013 12:30:00 AM)

    A life like portrait of a rickshaw puller toiling his way up till the day's sunset and his life's sunset! ! While the rider sits comfortably inside, he pulls mountains of load like Sisyphus rolling the stone uphill! I have watched these people in the streets of Culcutta with a tinge of pain! Great write Pradip! (Report) Reply

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