WHAT THE RICKSHAW HEARD ALL DAY
The world is a river of voices and I am the little boat that ferries them. My wheels hum a constant song, a low, metallic murmur that is the backdrop to a thousand whispered secrets. From dawn till dusk, I carry the weight of stories, each one a fragment of a larger, unseen tapestry. "Did you tell him? About the price, I mean. He'll want a discount, I know it." "The doctor said no sugar. Not even a little bit. How am I supposed to live without sweets?" "She looked right through me. Like I was a ghost. I don't know what I did." "I told her, 'You can't live a life like this, you have to choose.' But she just smiled and said, 'Maybe I don't have to.'" A young couple, their knees touching, their hands intertwined. "My mother wants to meet you," he says, his voice a nervous whisper. "She's already planning our wedding." The girl laughs, a sound like wind chimes. "Just to the ma...
