A Ferry Tale

Once upon a time, in a land very close by, so close actually, that you’re probably already in it, lived a group of people called rickshawwallas. They were an evil race, who initially began as a peace-loving, service-rendering community. They soon discovered that the service they rendered left others in their power, and this was when their reign of terror began. This power corrupted them and they began to disobey the commandments set in place by the Sacred Fare Meter, the keeper of the balance of Good and Evil.

They evolved into a sinister race of devious individuals, charging far more than required and refusing to render services unless the helpless complied to their demands and sometimes not even then. Many a time they pretended that if they went to certain places they would be attacked and killed by a vicious and horrific demon known as Traffic.

This was untrue.

Traffic would be there, yes.

But Traffic was not horrifying. Traffic was just highly annoying.

There was one, named Raj, who did not bow to the evil ways of the other rickshawwallas. He was righteous, he was courageous, he was pure of heart, and he followed the tenants of the Sacred Fare Meter. Sometimes, when in a good mood, he even charged half price.

Then he was just awesome.

The other rickshawwallas made fun of him and called him names. They abused him and called him a weakling who was not man enough to swindle his customers out of their money. But he stayed strong and did not bow down to their will. He stood firm in his convictions and remained righteous and pure of heart. He was also pure of… well… um… well… heart.

Though he was honorable he was quite poor, but all that was to change when he was visited by Kilometria, the Fairy Princess from the land of the Sacred Fare Meter. Though she was a beautiful woman, scantily clad, as fairy princesses are wont to be, she did not fear for, after all, he was pure of heart.

“Raj”, she said dramatically, “you are righteous.”

He did not reply.

He was not speechless.

He was still asleep.

She was new to dramatic speeches and had not realized she had to wake him up first.

“”Become a fairy,” they said. “It’s a glamorous life,” they said.” she muttered to herself as she shook him a little too violently out of aggression.

A few moments later he was awake.

“Raj”, she said dramatically, “you are righteous.” She said in a tone that suggested she was saying this for the fist time. “You have obeyed the tenants of the Sacred Fare Meter unwaveringly for many years. That is good. I am pleased. You shall have many riches. And a good wife.”

He woke up the next morning with many riches and a good wife.

He retired filthy rich and had many grandchildren who loved him.

He also had the biggest house and HD satellite television.

The moral of the story is, never charge more than the meter and you shall be rewarded.

This story is part of a developmental initiative and has been designed for the children of rickshawwallas.