A Rant on Richshaws, My New Favorite Thing

I have come to the conclusion that riding rickshaws is among one of my favorite things to do in India. It is the absolute best way to experience the city and all it has to offer.

You stand on the side of the road, trying to flag one down and often have to argue with the drivers to get them to take you to certain parts of town. Once you've taken your seat, crammed in with three other people, they step on the gas and try to maneuver their way into the ever-so chaotic traffic. Your legs are wet because of the drizzling rain and the slight, but infrequent dripping from the roof above. The rain, however, doesn't keep you from sticking your head out of the side and letting your hair blow wildly in the wind while the cool drops land on your cheeks.  As the driver reaches out of the cart to manually move the windshield wipers, more of the city in front of you is revealed. You drive over the bridge, over the river that yearns for water, and as you look down, you see the cattle scavenging the ground for food and small patches of grass. You pass by the slums and the children sitting on the streets, next to their mothers who are selling anything they could possibly make a living off of, and everything you could possibly imagine. Next, the tens upon hundreds of motorcycles parked on the streets blur into one as your impatient driver quickly squeezes past the slow car in front. You then see the corner where all the rickshaws and their drivers congregate; some asleep in the cabs and many of them chatting amongst themselves. Tightly clutching the metal bar, you duck your head out of the vehicle to get a full view of your surroundings. With luck, you catch a glimpse of a temple or ancient fort - many of which are randomly scattered throughout the tall apartment buildings and hundred-year-old houses. You are bombarded with a new aroma every block. The vast range of these smells circulates through your nostrils as you see the street foods from which they are coming on every sidewalk, in front of every store. The men chopping the fresh coconuts, the little girls who sell the beautiful necklaces of jasmine flowers, those boys who roast and sell the corn, the women who carry the racks of necklaces and earrings and the countless vendors with their carts of pani puri. The colors are incredible, so bright and vivid, all so different yet somehow they come together to paint a more harmonious picture. And then of course, you get out of the rickshaw, splashing onto the soaked road. You pay and thank your driver with a friendly "dhanyavaad."

At this point, the only thing that could possibly be better than a rickshaw ride, is where you are at the end of it.