Slowly they are being edged out, but some have not given up on the cycle rickshaw yet. In the polluted lanes and bylanes, these men do the thankless, back-breaking job of ferrying passengers, drawing on the last reserves of strength of their bodies and the rickshaws, in a losing race with modern means of transport. Most of them do not even own the rickshaws they ply and have to pay rent. Bhola of Lucknow, who was once a beggar, earns about ₹250 a day, but ₹40 of it goes towards the rent of the rickshaw. At night, Bhola stretches out on a tarpaulin sheet on the pavement, his home for the night.
Once these men and their cycle rickshaws were the undisputed purveyors of men and material through the arteries of towns and cities. Now, it’s a poor man’s job. Planners and policy makers continue to see rickshaws as a nuisance on city streets, seeking to either control their numbers or ban them. They are often seen as irritants hampering the smooth flow of traffic. A misfit in the smart, global cities of today. The contribution of rickshaws to urban mobility is under-estimated. Despite the excitement about metro rail systems and flyovers, rickshaws somehow retain a place.
(Text by Shaju John)
Watching the clock: Around the Chennai Central railway station ply some 140 rickshaws with a clientele of schoolchildren, businessmen arriving by train and the like. But most of the time, the men wait for passengers.
Brakes on: Ramchender of Raheempura near Begumbazaar in Hyderabad has improvised his rickshaw into a carriage for schoolchildren. The veteran rickshaw wallah of 46 years now does lighter duties such as dropping children.
Life without a compass: Mani, 74, does not remember where he is from, but he knows every corner of Chennai. He lives on the pavement along with many of his homeless mates.
Sunset lane: Across the country, cycle rickshaws are reaching a dead end, plying them no longer a viable vocation. Still people like Arasan in Chennai push the pedal, even if they make only ₹300 a day after working close to 12 hours. There are many Arasans across cities in India.
Deflated lives: Bhola rests at Parivartan Chowk in Lucknow after a hectic day at the pedals. He quit begging and took up this job, but the returns do not match efforts.
A life in the lanes: Shibnath, 63, has been plying a rickshaw in south Kolkata since childhood when he migrated from Bihar. He says that without education and money, he can’t find a better job.
Race to the bottom: Om Veer has been pulling rickshaws for more than 35 years after moving to Delhi from Bihar at 16. When he is not pulling rickshaws, his body hurts. His regular clients are schoolchildren .