Give us reason....We give you performance

KOLKATE: The CPM's hartal on Tuesday turned into Moin Khan's marathon. Soaked in sweat, the fiftyish handrickshaw-puller ran 18 km from Sealdah station to the airport, hauling a load of over 150 kg two passengers and 40 kg of luggage in the summer heat.

He wasn't alone. His friends Asman Ansari, the youngest at 50, and Sheikh Nurul Hassan, the oldest at 65, trotted the same distance, carrying four other Mumbaikars. It was the longest any of them had gone. And the first time anyone at the airport had seen handrickshaws dropping off fliers.

For their toil, Khan, Ansari and Hassan got Rs 500 each three times more than they make in a day.

Khan was doing a round of Sealdah station at 8am, looking for stranded passengers who would travel to nearby localities, when a group of six tourists approached him and asked if he could take them to the airport. Khan was taken aback. No one had asked him this before (and he has seen many a bandh in the

30 years as a rickshawpuller). He hesitated. The distance was too much. The sun was getting hotter. He had seen many of his friends collapse from heat stroke this season.

But what if he pulled it off? He turned back to the group. "I saw a chance of making some money on a lean day. I told them they would need three rickshaws and asked if they were ready to shell out Rs 500 for each," said Khan. The Mumbaikars readily agreed.

"We had a wonderful vacation in Darjeeling. We knew about the hartal but we had no idea that it would be total shutdown. So, we got a little panicky when we found there was no transport outside the station to take us to the airport. There was not even a government bus to be seen," said tax consultant Abhay Kulkarani, who was vacationing with his wife Rajlaskmi and some colleagues.

The group of 35 had arrived at Sealdah station in the morning by Darjeeling Mail. Only six of them were adventurous enough to take the long rickshaw ride. As soon as the tourists agreed to pay

the amount, Khan called Ansari and Hassan. With a last swig of water and a tinkle of the bells, the trio set off at 8.30 am, hauling between them nearly 500 kg.

"Thankfully, it had rained last night and it was quite breezy in the morning," said Ansari. "Otherwise, this heat drains the life out of you." The three quick-marched at a steady 150 steps a minute. They had a free run of the deserted road, passing flag-waving bandh enforcers on the way, but no one bothered to stop them.

As for the tourists, they had a rare view of Kolkata without its maddening traffic and choking pollution. "We had a lovely ride on the empty road. I was a little worried about the rickshawpullers because of the distance. We asked them to ferry us at a speed comfortable to them," said Rajlaskmi.

The Mumbaikars had only heard of hand-pulled rickshaws and seen them in the iconic Do Bigha Zamin' and City of Joy'. "We had heard about this mode of transport that plies only in Kolkata. We had a wonderful time in Darjeeling and the end of the journey was just as memorable," said Sachin Bhisi.

The rickshaw convoy pulled into the airport at 10.40am, two and a half hours later. The few passengers and employees that were at the airport departure terminal stared in amazement.

"We don't know where time flew," said the tourists. Khan and his friends did. Panting, but grinning at their adventure and the crisp notes in their grimy money bags the trio ran off, this time to shuttle between VIP Road and the airport to make some more money.

"This is the highest fare a single trip has ever fetched me. Our average earning a day is just about Rs 150. Now, it will really make my day if I get some passengers on my way back to Sealdah," said Ansari, smiling from ear to ear.