Looking into the mirror, I thought: It was a disturbed night. I tossed in my camp cot. The vinyl tape that held the frame as a bed neatly tore. Guess I moved too much last night. But when the body is sore from 16 hours of peddling a rickshaw–8 AM to 12 AM. It’s tough. As I look at the mirror now, I notice my chiseled jaw. Hmm, impressive. I’ll get a photo clicked tomorrow. Granny has been demanding one. She wants me to get married. I want to earn enough to buy her medical insurance and maybe a treatment in the best hospital. But I also want to get married someday. Granny says, “Sunder, you deserve love and I deserve to be a great grams!”
Nice thoughts. I’m almost humming Bollywood hits as I’m walking to my rickshaw. It’s going to be a good day.
“Hey!” And here’s my first passenger at 7:45 AM. Yes, ma’am. I’ll take you to your college. It will cost Rs 25.
8:05 AM: Ok! Ok! It’s 8 km but I’ll go for Rs 20, ma’am. I can never turn down my first customer of the day. Indian tradition says you will be the reason I will have a profitable day peddling my rickshaw.
I lost my parents (daily wagers) young. My doting grandma brought me up. She worked as a maid at the landlord’s mansion in the village. She wanted me to be educated and rich. She did the best she could. I’m not a dreamer, though. Practical, realistic. Grandma couldn’t afford tuition. And I know I’m not a good student.
And there were loans to be paid that his late parents once took.
At 18, I convinced his grandma to allow him to go to the capital. Ten years on, the debts were paid. Sunder was ready to buy his grandma health insurance and perhaps find a life partner.
8:40: I’m driving a couple to the Red Quila (Red Fort). They sound so romantic. I’m picking up lines! I guess when I find a partner…
Location: 28°39′22.0″N77°14′09.4″E
Near the Lal Qila metro station gate no. 1, Red Fort, Delhi, India
Date: 10 November 2025
Time: 06:52 PM IST (UTC+5:30)
BOOM!
I…
I… My name is Sunder.
I see my body, strewn…
I see my jaw… My jaw…
Will my grandma ever accept I’m gone when there is no way the forensics can know it’s me, Sunder, a humble rickshaw pedaler?
Will my grandma know…
Too young to die… Dreams are now debris coated in blood… Into nothing, I go to beautiful souls, along with all the beautiful lives lost in a terrorist attack.