Conversations with a Rickshaw Puller I met a rickshaw puller (a person who manually drives a three-wheeled carriage w ith passengers)

a few days back. Short and bulky, he was nowhere near the stereo typical rickshaw puller image of thin yet muscular. His structure stiked me beca use I was having doubts whether he would be able to pull me and my friend in his rickshaw. I stood clear off him and asked other rickshaw pullers around him whe ther they would take fare. When I was bargaining with the puller nearest to him, who seemed to disagree with my price, he said to me, "Mama (a term commonly use d to address unknown persons) let's go." I stated my price to him and made it ve ry clear that I was not willing to pay a paisa (equivalent to penny) more. He in sisted and said, "Let's go, let's go." His attitude made me curious. None of the other rickshaw pullers were willing to take my fare, as I was being strictly reasonable. After being seated, I obserev ed him for a while. Due to his height he was having some trouble reaching both t he paddles of the rickshaw at the same time. Nevertheless, he was expertly maneu vering the vehicle. Wearing a t-shirt and a lungi (a traditional skirt worn by m an),he was sweating even in the cold December breeze. After quater a mile, curiousity got the best of me. I asked him, "Mama where is your home district?" This question was a traditional ice breaker. If the home di strict of the answerer matched with the home district of the person who asked th e question, an immediate bond would be created, not of blood but of birthplace. He said, "Mama, ___________." I was upset that his home district didn't match mi ne and started thinking of other ways to continue this conversation. To my surpr ise, he asked me the same question. I gave a smile and