The old rickshaw man

I haven't ridden in cycle rickshaws much. Tongas, may be on the odd occasion while visiting a remote small town. Rickshaws I dont remember.

A friend tells me that she rode a rickshaw to school pretty much her entire schooling life. She has fond memories of the old man who took her to school and back, everyday, in sun and in rain, through potholes and inclines, for more than 12 years. She says she loves him like a father. And she means it. Something about that simple relationship moves me.

Just like this story from Annie. This line says it all, me thinks.
The old man called out to me. “Kahaan tak jaogi, bitiya (How much further, little daughter)?”