What Goes Around, Comes Around

CLANG! CLANG!! CLANG!!
The noise of the bell would reverberate across the colony and the opposite-house aunty will lean out of her balcony and yell “Hey Lavanya! Your rickshawman has come!” That will become almost like a battle cry, spreading from house to house till it reached our compound in fever-pitch. RICKSHAWMAN HAS COME!
Though an hour and a half remained for my school bell, I had the misfortune of living farthest from school. Hence, my school run had a First In – Last Out approach and I got on to my rickety rickshaw at the ungodly hour of 8.10 AM. Never on time at 8.00 AM. Because, day after day, at 7:59:55, I would be staring into space, wool gathering and building dams with my breakfast of dal-chawal. My grandfather would be seated behind me, prodding me on with non-stop admonishments and threats. All around me, the household will be spinning at a furious pace, with the other members of the family getting ready to get on with their day. Everybody except for me, that is.

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