Mother Drives Rickshaw 16 Hours Daily for Daughter's Dream

Every morning at 6:30, a small autorickshaw rolls through Kalyan with a sleepy three-year-old in a custom seat beside the driver. Behind the wheel is her mother, Komal Gaikwad, who turned abandonment into action and survival into hope.

Komal was just 18 when she married and moved from Parbhani to the city, leaving school behind after Class 10. By 22, she had a daughter named Tejaswi and suddenly found herself alone when her husband left without warning.

With a one-year-old child and no income, Komal faced days when even food became uncertain. Nobody would hire her for domestic work because she had a small child to care for, so she looked to the one skill her husband had taught her before leaving: driving an autorickshaw.

She rented a rickshaw and started navigating the roads of Kalyan, Dombivli, and Thakurli. With nobody to watch Tejaswi, Komal saved every rupee, arranged a loan, and paid Rs 60,000 down on her own rickshaw.

Inside, she installed a small seat right next to the driver's chair. That tiny modification speaks volumes about a mother who refused to choose between work and her child.

Now Tejaswi travels beside her mother from dawn until night. Komal packs breakfast early, drives until noon, returns home to cook lunch, then heads back out from 4 pm until 10 pm.

Despite working 16-hour days, Komal earns just Rs 400 to Rs 500 daily. From that, she pays rent in Kalyan East and her monthly rickshaw payment, leaving little margin for error or rest.

Sunny's Take

What makes Komal's journey remarkable isn't just her endurance. It's her unwavering focus on education, the one thing she had to give up herself.

She recently enrolled Tejaswi in school, a milestone that might seem ordinary to many families but represents everything to Komal. Her dream is for her daughter to become an IPS officer, perhaps because she knows exactly what it feels like when women lack power and choices.

There's no spotlight on Komal's daily route through the city. Passengers climb into her rickshaw without knowing the story of the woman driving them home, or the little girl learning what determination looks like from the seat beside her.

Real courage often looks quiet. Sometimes it's a mother waking before sunrise, packing her daughter's breakfast, and driving crowded streets so that child can have the future she never received.

Komal's autorickshaw carries more than passengers. It carries a mother, a daughter, and a dream that refuses to break no matter how steep the road ahead.