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#puller
So aged he is, but still so zealous for his job. It feels like he has only known his rickshaw. The ancient bard in him tells Punjabi poems. He belies his wrinkles as he pedals his ride. Just putting to shame his fellow rickshaw pullers. None remembers or even cares to know his name. He just pedals and remembers his deceased wife. He told me a Punjabi tale of partition... *"We were really happy when it happened, I was 16 and married to my beautiful wife, But then he pressed for a separate Pakistan, Just so much wicked was this demand of his, Punjab was alight due to some people's doing, We were to cross river Ravi en route to Amritsar, In Lahore my childhood home was burnt to ashes, My beautiful wife was still so young at that time, She was ***** on the banks of river Ravi & killed, In no cloth was she draped as they burnt her body, After pouring whiskey all over her lifeless body."* His voice broke and a stream of tears escaped, Down his eyes they flowed like the river Ravi, *"In front of my two eyes the men had ***** her, Her mistake? Looking at them once & smiling, Sin as great to be punished by such brutal drab? What God, Ishwar or Allah did they follow? I have known all & none advocates **** To which parents could they born? Must be the devil & the witch."* By now his nose was red and his sobs audible. He said, *"She was not just ***** she was also killed,"* The ancient rickshaw puller gasped for breath as he said, "Would the high heavens thank them for killing my wife, She was a Hindu and an idolater with my mangalsootra, Why they spared my life I have no idea but just remorse, Will their Allah or God spare them on Doomsday?" ==============
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Mar 20, 2015
Mar 20, 2015 at 6:15 AM UTC
The Sad Ancient Rickshaw Puller
So aged he is, but still so zealous for his job. It feels like he has only known his rickshaw. The ancient bard in him tells Punjabi poems. He belies his wrinkles as he pedals his ride. Just putting to shame his fellow rickshaw pullers. None remembers or even cares to know his name. He just pedals and remembers his deceased wife. He told me a Punjabi tale of partition... *"We were really happy when it happened, I was 16 and married to my beautiful wife, But then he pressed for a separate Pakistan, Just so much wicked was this demand of his, Punjab was alight due to some people's doing, We were to cross river Ravi en route to Amritsar, In Lahore my childhood home was burnt to ashes, My beautiful wife was still so young at that time, She was ***** on the banks of river Ravi & killed, In no cloth was she draped as they burnt her body, After pouring whiskey all over her lifeless body."* His voice broke and a stream of tears escaped, Down his eyes they flowed like the river Ravi, *"In front of my two eyes the men had ***** her, Her mistake? Looking at them once & smiling, Sin as great to be punished by such brutal drab? What God, Ishwar or Allah did they follow? I have known all & none advocates **** To which parents could they born? Must be the devil & the witch."* By now his nose was red and his sobs audible. He said, *"She was not just ***** she was also killed,"* The ancient rickshaw puller gasped for breath as he said, "Would the high heavens thank them for killing my wife, She was a Hindu and an idolater with my mangalsootra, Why they spared my life I have no idea but just remorse, Will their Allah or God spare them on Doomsday?" ==============
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Having many irons on fire Willing to die in harness tire Take boll by horns to weather Bound with the birds of feather Sweat, thirst being leap in dark Can see rotten vest pale mark! Yet throw gauntlet to cut a gardian knot Exalte the trap wince it's fate wrote By the pinch of salt to stop Make out rest on laurels! nope Being at sea about own strife Do i drag it or the life!!
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Nov 18, 2014
Nov 18, 2014 at 8:32 AM UTC
#The Puller #