A Roller Coaster
Ride in Karachi
By Rafiq Ebrahim
Glen Ellyn IL
I was standing at
the corner of a street, outside my host’s
house, looking for a cab to take me to my old buddy’s
advertising firm at Shahrahe Faisal. I was anxious
to meet him, as I had not seen him for the last
fourteen years, that is since I migrated to the
USA in 1990. A rickshaw turned up near where I was
standing, and the driver, who had a broad smile
on his face and a respectful attitude, asked me
whether I needed a rickshaw.
Yes, why not hire a rickshaw, I felt. The ride would
give me a taste of the good old days when my frequent
mode of transport was the rickshaw, because my old
Mazda had made a mechanic’s workshop its headquarters.
I hopped into the rickshaw and told him where I
wanted to go. He immediately pulled a rod on his
right to start the engine, and as soon as it started,
a thick, black cloud of smoke emitted from the engine.
It surrounded the whole vehicle. Dangerous fumes,
no doubt, with a concentration of carbon monoxide,
making breathing hazardous. Luckily, it disappeared
once the rickshaw gathered speed. Had it lasted
for a few more minutes, I am sure, I would have
been taken to an emergency room at a hospital almost
dead with carbon monoxide poisoning.
The driver, on the other hand, looked completely
immune to this danger. With a tune on his lips he
sped along and we came to a busy road near Gizri.
Here the traffic was heavy and waiting for the signal
to turn green. There was a little gap between a
donkey-cart and a minibus, and it is in this gap
that the driver of the rickshaw maneuvered his vehicle,
coming so close to them that all the vehicles were
almost touching one another.
I felt a heavy breathing on my side and turned to
see that a donkey had put his head inside. I could
detect a little smile on his face as if he was greeting
me with a “hello”. Since I had no intention
to enter into a conversation with an animal, I just
moved aside. The driver, unaware of my unease at
the presence of a donkey’s head near me, yelled
at the minibus driver, “ Race ho jaey?”
The minibus driver nodded, and as soon as the signal
turned green the race began. The speed with which
both the vehicles were going would have put a racehorse
to shame. My requests to the driver to slow down
were unheeded. There was nothing I could do except
to keep my fingers crossed and feel my heart leaping
inside my frame like an enraged frog. The race lasted
for about two miles that is till the next traffic
signal. The rickshaw driver was ahead of the minibus
driver, which made him so happy. He turned his head,
showed his palm to the minibus driver and yelled,
“Kaisi rahi?”
The race was over, and now for a while it was a
smooth ride, till he turned left at a signal. Ahead
was a stretch of katcha road, full of bumps and
speed breakers. I thought the driver would slow
down, but it was just wishful thinking. He maintained
his speed with the result the rickshaw started jumping
up and down. It was difficult to remain seated in
one position, and I started jumping too, and swaying
from one end of the slippery leather seat to the
other. “Slow down!” I shouted, but he
just smiled and started singing, “Hai raasta
uncha nicha; kahin dil ka jam ne chhalke….”
And then what I feared did happen! During one of
the upward swings, my head got a direct impact with
an iron rod above, which supported the hood. I literally
saw stars in front of my eyes and began rubbing
the top of my head, which only had a few hairs on
it. The driver, unaware of the happening, continued
his song. I was feeling as if I had taken a roller
coaster ride like one at Six Flags America in Chicago.
At last we arrived at the destination.
I got down and thanked God that the ride was over
and I was still in one piece, though I had developed
a little lump on the top of my head. Looking at
the meter, I saw figures of 99999...
“Don’t look at the meter. It is faulty.
Just pay me whatever you think is reasonable,”
he said with his characteristic broad smile. I pulled
out two hundred rupee notes from my pocket and handed
them to him. He seemed extremely pleased, for he
got up from his seat and gave me a big salute. Then
he took out a piece of paper, soiled with grease,
and gave it to me. “Sahib, this is my mobile
number. Whenever you need a rickshaw, just call
me. I’ll always be glad to be of service to
you.”
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
