What happens when two detectives of a popular TV serial take to roaming the streets of Karachi? Read on and find out
AN interesting serial shown on TV took us to the delightful Californian city of San Francisco, where two energetic police officers comb its labyrinthian streets, alleys and byways to unearth crime and track down culprits.
Now, fantasy and drollery join hands to give us the following scenario: we find these heroes of the SFPD in our own city. They are Karl Maiden, the stout officer, and Michael Douglas’ slim detective — indeed a latter-day Laurel and Hardy pair of a different stripe! Why are they in Karachi is besides the point. Obviously, as a result of their adventures on the streets of Frisco, they are interested, not in museums or historic sights, nightclubs or beaches, and not in theatre or spectator sports, but in the streets, boulevards and lanes of the town, even if they are tourists. Karl and Mike decide to roam the streets of Karachi separately, and rejoin after seven days to compare notes and return to their beloved Golden City.
Karl and Mike wish each other luck and embark upon their solitary wanderings. They get reunited on the eighth day, each in good spirits, though slightly bedraggled, and the following conversation takes place between them on the flight back to the New World.
Karl: So here we are, Mike. How do you sum up your adventure and what do you think of the streets of Karachi?
Mike: Karl, the streets of this wonderful city are a real tourist attraction. You would go far before you come across a similar place, if at all. In Karachi, you get to see such a variety of vehicles that your head begins to reel — from gigantic 22-wheel trawlers to tiny wheelbarrows. You see buses and coaches of all sizes, automobiles of all ages and brands — from rattling tin lizzies to glittering Mercedes Benz and Chrysler prides; trucks, squad cars, three wheeler go-carts, meat vans, milk wagons, pushcarts, horse-driven gigs and pompous victorias, dripping water-carriers, donkey carts laden with huge braces of steel pipes and bars, camel carts, bicycles, mopeds, motor bikes, scooters and quite a few nameless ones, too.
Karl: And sometimes you feel you are in the vicinity of a zoo or a menagerie. You see all sorts of animals on the streets of Karachi. Besides horses, donkeys and camels used to pull carts, you see monkeys, goats, sheep, dogs, cats, rats, geese and chickens. Many a time, I have seen herds of cows roaming about.
Mike: Those cows must certainly be very scared.
Karl: It seems beasts and humans are all scared.
Mike: At times, you come across unbelievable sights. I once saw a strange vehicle — a yellow, guillotine-shaped forklift, loaded with a full-size automobile, threading its way through a crowded street. You know what was afoot? The automobile had been ‘arrested’ for parking violation, and was being hauled to the ‘vehicle lock-up’, very similar to the cattle-corral for ‘law-breaking’ animals. No ticketing hassles here.
Karl: I’m much fascinated by the public transport system of this city, which makes our own arrangement pale in comparison. Here you have half-a-dozen kind of passenger buses, which, like computers, can be classified as mainframe, midrange, mini, micro, etc. Unlike the American Metro vehicles, these Karachi buses amuse you with a riot of sound and colour. They are rich in music, and also represent a running exhibition of the local masters. These bus and truck owners have decided that the back of their vehicle would always be adorned with an ‘arresting’ painting. You see awe-inspiring and soul-stirring images of lions, elephants, winged horses, falcons, peacocks, fairies, gardens, landscapes, waterfalls and, of course, garlanded portraits of national heroes.
Mike: Right as rain, but there is more to it for literary buffs. With your cop’s eye, you must not have failed to notice the inscriptions below these masterpieces. Can you guess what they are? They are pieces of sublime verse. Poetry, I gather, is the driving force, the prime mover of this nation, and even a truck would run better when goaded by an inspiring verse.
Karl: Speaking of these vehicles, I can tell you a dozen stories, but I’ll limit myself to just one. I saw a grotesque contraption, bristling with passengers and a scarecrow figure swinging by its door-handle, gesticulating and yelling furiously. He must certainly be a local entertainer, humouring the passengers with his antics I thought. Imagine my surprise when I came to know that he was the bus conductor.
Mike: Another mystery is the horde of peddlers, vendors and beggars, specially at traffic signals. I think it is a great convenience since it lets you buy a good number of items right on the road, and saves you the boredom of waiting for the signal to turn green.
Karl: Your spiritual needs are also taken care of as the beggars are generous with their blessings and incantations, and eager to do all they can to make you a holier person.
Mike: What would you say about the streets of this city? Why are they not like the roads of other modern cities? Why does the surface split? Why do they lack drains and culverts to drain off rainwater?
Karl: I think the happy-go-lucky Karachiites love their streets exactly as they are. Don’t you realize that the downpour makes these passageways resemble the thoroughfares of fun-filled Venice? Sometimes, when the light is low and you fall into a crater, you feel like a discoverer at an alien planet.
Mike: I agree. Moreover, Karachiites are a sporting community. I once saw an amazing sport with a ball, bat and a broken chair on a half-busy street. They also use roads and lanes for public functions, marriages, religious meetings, etc, while we in the States foolishly leave our boulevards and byways so glaringly under-utilized.
Karl: The streets are bustling with all sorts of repair shops and other establishments, too, so much so that merely a thin strip is usually available for vehicles.
Mike: The streets abound not only in ditches and trenches, but also invisible hurdles called ‘speed-breakers’. Don’t you see, Mike, the importance of those repair shops? No sooner do you get your automobile smashed up by a roadblock or whatever, you find yourself in the competent hands of a grinning master mechanic and his energetic deputies.
Karl: Large establishments, too, can be found using these streets and driveways, such as car showrooms with their fleet of new and used cars, and restaurants and inns with their chairs and tables. Frequent jams are stoically accepted and rather enjoyed.
Mike: And what a thrilling place is the uncontrolled intersection with no cops or signals. You feel like you are watching a Hollywood action movie. No vehicles stop, horns blare, cars bump into each other accompanied by dire threats and curses. This is life, no doubt, and it keeps your blood warm — to boiling point.
Karl: I do admire the defiant spirit of these Karachiites. The Karachi pedestrian is an embodiment of courage and bravery! He crosses the street in a very leisurely, rather aristocratic manner, sneering at an approaching vehicle, as if saying: Touch me if you can; For I’m the Pak Superman.
Mike: We can go on and on listing the marvels of this city. As a law-enforcement officer, I was greatly amused to find that the prison is located right in the heart of the town, in a most thickly-populated district.
Karl: Another innovation of Karachi is its garbage management system. They have adopted the most revolutionary method. Unlike other cities, the Karachi administration has simplified the problem by refusing to recognize it, with the result that you find the streets, roads, boulevards and lanes fringed with all manner of rubbish, refuse, offal and trash.
Mike: I see the stewardess serving food. It’s chow time!
Karl: Once back in San Francisco and miles upon miles of smooth and shiny streets crisscrossing the hills with their silent, systematic traffic, I’ll surely pine for the zestful and lively streets of Karachi. I might take a trip to New Orleans in Louisiana as it is perhaps the only city that can hold a candle to Karachi!
