A Tonga Ride

Have you ever traveled in a two-wheeled Tonga or jutka driven by a horse or a bull? That could become an experience to be cherished. Living now in a metropolitan city like Chennai, I travel in buses and autos only. Bullock carts can be a rare sight for they are not allowed to ply on the main road during peak hours. Still, some people prefer bullock carts to transport things from one place to another.

If I want to enjoy a ride on a Tonga, then I have to travel down to the smaller towns in South India. When my daughter was two years old, we went on our pilgrim tour to Thiruchendur, a town near Tuticorin. At that time, we could see more horse-drawn tongas. We decided to travel in a horse-tonga. My daughter was so excited to travel on the horse-drawn tonga. She sat near the Tonga man and wanted to hold the reins in her hands. The tonga man gave her the reins for a while and took it back. I still remember the way she was repeating 'hai, hai, hai' the way the tonga man shouted at the horse to move fast.

While in primary school, my father arranged for a horse-driven Tonga to take us to the school. The horse-driven tonga that took us to school still rests as an imagery in my mind; the old man who used to drive the tonga and his horse that never obeyed his instructions; and also taught me how to be stubborn. This horse had a peculiar behavior. No one could make it to pull the tonga after six o'clock in the evening.

One day we started late from school after six in the evening, as there was a function at school. The Tonga went on without any problem till it reached the main road. Then the horse refused to take the road that would lead to our home and it started to pull the tonga in the direction that could take it to the house where the tonga man lived. It didn't want to go for one more ride and so refused to move ahead; we had to take another tonga to reach home.

One more experience that I still remember; one day we were all returning home as usual. Suddenly it started to drizzle. We wished we would reach home before the rain. But it started to pour down heavily. The rain slashed inside the tonga and made us shiver. The horse struggled to move in the heavy rain. The tonga man with the whip started to beat the horse and kicked the horse to go fast. Yet, it wanted to show how stubborn it could be. With its legs crossed, the horse stood in the rain without pulling the tonga.

Suddenly, my sister started to scream and even made the horse run fast in the rain. We realized the reason after a few seconds. We could see a funeral procession behind our tonga. Four men carried a dead man on a chair. To reach soon at the cemetery, the four men started to run in the rain. The dead man on the chair moved this way and that way which was so scary to watch.

Struck with fear, I was dumb. But my sister did not stop to scream and the tonga man had to struggle literally to keep her sit inside the tonga. The tonga man parked the tonga at the entrance of a nearby school till the rain stopped. After fifteen minutes, we reached home in the same tonga.

Children of this generation will miss these adventures. Sophisticated rides in autos and cars will not stand on par with those experiences.