Karachi is a diverse city. Considered cosmopolitan by some, a metropolitan one by others, and a poor attempt at a city by yet some more. The reasons for these conflicting opinions perhaps lies in the exceedingly increasing gaps between the rich and the poor… not many cities can boast of mussels imported from Norway on the same lane where rubble is constantly increasing, and the poverty-stricken light their humble fires and sleep on a charpai covering themselves with a net to gain some level of protection from the mosquitoes. (Yes, I am talking about the apparently elite strip of restaurants on Zamzama…)
Another reason for the conflicting opinions I mentioned earlier lies in the state of the roads of Karachi, as well as its public transport system and the current traffic situation.
The roads of Karachi can hardly be called pedestrian-friendly. The footpaths are few and far between, and are strewn with litter, dirt, and beggars… beggars, who I must add, can provide you with ample amounts of change if you tell them that you only have a hundred rupee note, and carry the latest model of cell phones available.
But the beggars aren’t limited to just the footpaths… you can communicate with them even when you’re driving… where they will amuse you with their various modes of persuasion. If you happen to be with a female – even if she’s your sister – they’ll say, “Allah jori ko salamat rakhey.”
If, however, the beggar in question happens to be a hijra – our answer to New York’s drag queen bars (why bother to pay for a show in a bar, when you can see it on the street?!) he/she/it will refer to you as ‘chikna’ or ‘shahzada’ (if you’re male) and convince you to contribute to his/her/it’s ever-growing range of clothes and make up.
And then there are the various vendors… people selling glasses of water, roses, combs, magazines and tasbees to you, while also indulging in the game of flattery. “Bhai, bohot smart lagrahai hai… bhabhi ke liye phool lelijey.” Of course, if you tell them that there is no bhabhi, they’ll give you a sympathetic glance, and move on. Seems like being single in Karachi is even harder than being single in New York City… what say you, Carrie Bradshaw?
Walking is also a hazard due to the increasing amounts of pollution, dirt and dust that seem to emanate from the very bowels of the city. Rikshaws, motorcycles, buses and diesel-driven vehicles all add to the smog that the city is constantly infested with, and if you’re looking to take a solitary and relaxing walk during your lunch hour, do yourself a favour: stay in your air-conditioned office!
But let’s move away from the hazards of the pedestrian – they are, after all, mere diversions and obstacles when it comes to moving along the potholed roads of the city.
If you happen to be unlucky enough to travel by bus, you get a daily glimpse of hell… literally. With the exception of a few buses, buses are not air-conditioned, and people clamber onto them (since word bus-stop is next to non-existent) at any opportune moment, and clamber onto them like cattle (by the way, it is not uncommon to see actual cattle loaded vehicles on the streets of Karachi) and try and find seating, and if they fail to do so, they hang on to a dirty pole for dear life.
Speaking of cattle, the people who use them, for the most part, have yet to discover the wondrous invention called deodorant… but that’s an entirely separate story.
Of course, bus schedules and maps are also mere fictitious words, and all one can depend on when clambering onto a bus is the bus conductor’s voice yelling out the destinations his fearless steed will pass by. Of these “tower!” is heard most often, the very word being nothing short of sacrilege when you realise that he means that forgotten, gorgeous medieval structure called the Merewether Memorial Tower.
Moving on to the other wondrous wonders constitute of Karachi’s extremely efficient and organised public transport, there are two other options left.
One is the cab, which falls into two categories: yellow or black. Not much differentiates these two anymore… thanks to our wonderfully organised political leaders, and one must keep in mind to decide on the fare prior to sitting inside, making sure the fictitious meter is not relied upon, for fear of being ridiculously overcharged.
And lastly, the last option for someone using public transport is the mighty rickshaw, which is sadly known for the dirty fumes it lets out, and not given enough credit to. The advantages of rickshaws aren’t numerous – but they are mighty powerful. For one, you have some sort of air coming in through the sides and the back. And secondly, if you realise that the driver is a bit of a psycho… or a bigger psycho than the rest… you always have the option of jumping out with ease! Moral of this story: never underestimate the power of the 3-wheeled rickshaw!
And now we drive down to personal modes of transport… which are but two. And like the diversity which defines Karachi, both options are located on opposing ends of the road.
One is the motorbike, which is looked down upon by many… after all, it is rather menial in their eyes, unless it is a Harley Davidson, of course.
And then there’s the second option – cars. This option, many claim, has increased rapidly over the last few years due to car financing. (I however, disagree on the ‘ease’ aspect… it’s been 70 days – and I have been counting – since I paid that huge down payment for my own personal wondrous vehicle and no sign of it yet!)
But coming back to cars on the roads, the number has increased, and with it, so has the commute time. Since the obvious concept of lanes, and red lights has been totally and utterly lost on the entire population (a police man once threatened to chalaan me for stopping at a red light, saying there was time for me to rush by) driving is quite an adventure… and a dangerous one, I may add.
If you’re unlucky enough to have one of the ‘small’ cars, every little bump and pothole (and there are many, many of them) will hit you in the behind. And what’s more, it seems like everyone in the city is in a rush… I guess all those entertainment outlets that are available in the city account for that. This means that unless you’re driving around in the middle of the night – which poses its own set of hazards – driving, unlike in most of the rest of the world, is anything but relaxing. It’s a battle of sorts, so its best to imagine you are in Spain, participating in a bull fight. The difference is that there are many, many bulls in this arena – basically, all the other cars are the bulls, and no matter what colour your car may be, it is, undoubtedly, the big red cape.
But its not the just the other bulls – I mean cars, motor bikes, buses and rickshaws that you’re up against… you also have to make sure to duck, in case someone in the bus next to you decides to flick a cigarette your way, or aim a wonderfully red and pleasurable paan peek your way.
But that’s not all. Forget all the obvious hindrances – there is yet another force against you. The wonderfully efficient and aesthetically inclined city planners, who, in an attempt to beautify the city, keep on allotting roadwork at every possible crevice of the city. This has meant even more traffic jams (as if we didn’t have enough in the first place!) as well as more aggravation, shorter-tempers and screaming, yelling and road rage.
It won’t be surprising if ever a study was conducted it was found that people who drive in Karachi on a regular basis are more likely to die of heart attacks, or, at the very least, develop high, high, levels of blood pressure… maybe we will, eventually, see people convulsing while driving or having a stroke… the first person to do so will probably be me.
