Just now you are standing near exit door of the
hotel Tourist rest House, smiling men
in yellow and gray shirts wish you a good day. The first step – air moistened
by green oasis courtyard, retreats somewhere away. The
second step - stifling vapour cloud of Agra seeps into every cell and every slot
of esprit. Hot and spicy saturated steam makes
you go hot and cold, covering your body by sweat and making your mind greedy
for cold water.
Rickshaw-men hang
on you like flies, it’s not profitable
for them to believe that you are going to walk around Agra on foot. How
annoying! Eventually young, enthusiastic, polite but weary driver coaxed us
into taking a cycle-rickshaw. To make his living, Sadar carries you to the Taj
Mahal. It takes about 20 minutes for us to sit and enjoy, and for him telling us
the truth and tall tales in which his life passes. You haven’t overpaid him.
These 50 rupees go along with all his earnings to pay bills: rent and repair cycle-rickshaw,
maintain his wife and two children, support parents. Sadar doesn’t live
anywhere but in his cycle-rickshaw and heated coloured terracotta side-walks of Agra.
A few hundred kilometres from here, in the village, he feels happy in the
family circle four times in a year. He learned English, Russian, German, well
enough to communicate with tourists he conveying. As a matter of fact Sadar
understands much more: smile, courtesy, perseverance, relentlessly performing his
duties are part of his religion and every day life. Young cycle-rickshaw has
simple dreams and difficult life.
You arrange the transportation to the railway station
today. At 5 am, you are concerned and repeat same solemn two steps at the exit
of the hotel. Sadar is waiting - smile, joy, devotion to duty. In your soul you feel warmer than the air in the afternoon Agra.
In the country where it seems that everybody lives
one day, you have had your own reliable person who simply does the job. You
look at all the roads of India through the pellucid glasses of a simple cycle-rickshaw.
