One of the last vestiges of public transport peculiar to Kolkata — the hand-pulled rickshaw — has disappeared. Along with the tram, this antiquated mode of transport is now consigned to the dustbin of history, just as the older and more famous name for the city!

For one who grew up in Lapierre’s ‘joyous’ city, the place will never be the same without the iconic rickshaw (‘rick’). Whether you whizzed through upmarket Alipore or crawled through the commercial nerve centre, Burra Bazaar, you always had the ubiquitous rickshaw-puller to take you along.

As children we had no moral objections to maximising on these transporters, often striking deals with them in order to make small detours along the way. It was Balraj Sahni’s ordeal in Do Bigha Zameen that stirred our conscience somewhat. We vowed never to take a rick again. But our neighbourhood rickshaw-wallah was most disappointed at this unexpected turn of events. He argued with us that he had migrated from Bihar in search of a livelihood and that he had no other vocation open to him. So we continued to patronise at least this one puller.

The rickshaw, however, became indispensable during the infamous Calcutta floods, which occurred with clockwork regularity. A couple of hours of continuous downpour and there would be knee-deep water on the streets. It is then that the ricks came into their own. Their pullers would hover around, ready to ferry the stranded people — to the market, to office, to school, anywhere — of course for a colossal re-negotiated rate!

... contd.