September 22, 2005

Most people who have been driving in Karachi will agree that motorcycle drivers are nothing short of a menace. They appear out of nowhere, try to overtake you like there’s no tomorrow and frequently bump into your vehicle’s side mirrors, doling out cheeky retorts, writes Samina Wahid Perozani

It’s five thirty in the evening and you’re heading home after a long, gruelling day at work. Rush hour traffic has caused your temper to flare and your blood pressure has started to soar. With the AC on full blast and the crooning of a cheesy, pop singer on FM radio, you inch your car slowly towards the traffic signal looming ahead, which simply refuses to turn green. Things couldn’t get any worse. Or could they?

As the vehicle in front of you moves forward, suddenly a motorcycle rider swerves to the right and manages to squeeze himself into the tiny space created by the other car. You give him a dirty look and mutter: “Damn these motorcyclewalas. When will they learn?” Apparently not any time soon.

Anyone who has been driving in Karachi will unanimously agree that motorcycle drivers are nothing short of a menace. They appear out of nowhere, try to overtake you like there’s no tomorrow and frequently bump into your vehicle’s side mirrors, doling out the cheeky retort: “Why are you getting upset. The car isn’t damaged !”

While their counterpart four-wheel drivers are hardly any better (violating traffic signals, changing lanes without showing any concern for other drivers, cursing all rickshaw, motorcycle, bus and taxi drivers to their hearts’ content, to name a few), motorcycle drivers have more often than not, left other drivers teetering at the very edge of sanity. So, at the risk of sounding terribly opinionated, one has to wonder what it is that makes a motorcycle driver tick.

“There are many reasons for this behaviour,” says Asim, a grocery store owner, who has been using his trusty two-wheeler for almost nine years now. “Since ours is the smallest vehicle on the road, most drivers do not care about us. So we have to look out for ourselves.” Asim feels that reckless driving on part of a motorcyclist is simply a way of fending for himself. “Drivers usually don’t stop for us at intersections or even in small lanes. So we do whatever we can to ensure our safety on the road,” he adds perhaps a bit too defensively.

Waqar, another motorcyclist who works in an advertising company, gets all riled up when asked to comment on his bizarre driving ways: “It’s really not that bad. Everyone’s breaking the law and driving in a crazy manner. So why are only motorcyclists being singled out?” He asks, agitation writ large across his face.

He further adds that motorcyclists are not the only ones with driving issues and hence they should not be picked on like this. “If other vehicle drivers have such a problem with us, why don’t they look at themselves first and then we’ll see who drives well and who doesn’t!” is his indignant response.

Of course, there are other motorcyclists who aren’t quite as jaded as Waqar. For starters, they at least seem to acknowledge the fact that they are doing something wrong. “Look at the horrible traffic jams in Karachi. Everyday I am stuck at Hasan Square for at least 30 minutes,” elaborates Fareed, who lives in North Nazimabad and works at a furniture outlet on Sharah-e-Faisal.

So when push comes to shove (meaning when the traffic jam becomes downright unbearable), Fareed does the needful by getting as close to the signal as possible –— for which he weaves his way through the traffic, manoeuvering his motorcycle in front of other vehicles, no matter how difficult it is to do so. Often, he picks up his bike and lifts it across a car if the space between two vehicles is too small for him to squeeze into; an act that probably earns him a couple of hundred abuses a day as well as respect for his strength.

“Yes! I, too, would probably get angry, if I were in another driver’s position.” However, since he manages to cut down his travelling time by an hour, he feels his antics are worth it all. “The other drivers are just jealous of the fact that I am able to get ahead of them and save time, while they’re caught in traffic, patiently waiting for the light to turn green,” he chuckles. It’s a race against time, especially in Karachi, and so strangely enough, Fareed’s questionable logic may have a grain of truth in it.

For the younger variety of motorcycle walas, it is usually the thrill of the ride that keeps them going at the expense of other drivers. With the wind brushing against their face and the speed limit exceeding all bounds of normalcy, driving often lends a sense of invincibility to these youngsters (and even pre-teens) and ‘hot-blooded’ jawans. “It’s a great feeling I tell you,” says a very enthused college student, Shakeel, when asked why he drives the way he does.

“I mean you can whiz past others in a matter of minutes and you can always beat rush hour traffic. It makes you feel like you can get anywhere and do anything.” Adrenalin rushes appear to be the order of the day with this segment of the motorcycle riding population. Shakeel and his friends feel that having a spruced up motorcycle is much more hip than owning a brand, new car any day.

“My motorcycle makes me look cool,” he claims, because it adds to his devil-may-care attitude, which it seems, is quite popular with the ladies. Or so, Shakeel would like to think. “Riding a motorcycle in a reckless way will definitely be talked about among girls,” he explains. “They think you’re not afraid of anything as you have the guts.” Talk about “aiming to please”. All this is very well, of course, but on a more serious note, what about the lives that they endanger including their own?

Often, women and children are saddled behind the driver and are found hanging on for dear life as their husbands/fathers/brothers try not to upset the precarious balance upon which their lives depend.

“It’s very scary to see women holding their children and at the same time, they have to make sure that they don’t fall off,” says 24-year-old Fatima, who has just returned from the States after completing her education and has yet to get used to the idiosyncratic ways of drivers in Karachi. “What if the woman loses her grasp on her child, because of a speed bump or a pothole? It could lead to severe injuries.”

Fatima’s concerns are not entirely misplaced — a recent motorbike accident that this scribe witnessed being a case in point. The tragedy occurred early last week on one of the major thoroughfares, when a middle-aged motorcycle driver with two children in tow tried to take a shortcut by coming onto the wrong side of the street. A speeding car from the other end forced him to stop his motorcycle dead in its tracks. The impact caused him to lose his balance and before he knew it, he tumbled over along with his two wheeler and children.

While the man was slightly bruised, blood spilled from his unconscious three-year-old daughter’s forehead, who was rushed to the hospital thanks to a compassionate rickshaw driver. One shudders to think what became of the little girl. Sadly, however, such sights are a dime a dozen on the frenetic, vehicle-infested streets of Karachi.

Rabia, an ageing housewife, recounts a similar horror story in which she sustained an injury, which has left permanent emotional and physical scars. “My husband was dropping me off at my mother’s place on his motorcycle and was driving very fast because he had to reach office early that day,” she sadly recalls. “He ran a red light and a car from the other side of the road hit us.” Both Rabia and her husband were knocked over, but the matter did not end there. Rabia was three months pregnant at the time and the collision resulted in a miscarriage.

The shock was too big for her to handle — she was diagnosed as clinically depressed and underwent therapy for her condition for about two years before her psychologist declared her ‘healthy’ once again. Now, she has two children but she still hasn’t fully come to terms with the unfortunate loss of her first child. Throwing caution to the wind really does not pay, regardless of what one is driving on the street.

There are many, of course, who feel that motorcyclists cannot be held totally responsible for putting other people (especially their families) at risk: “Apparently the traffic police is not doing a very good job if people are travelling with families on their motorbikes,” points out Fatima. She is right because there is a law against travelling with more than two people on one motorcycle.

Like most other traffic laws, however, this particular law has yet to be forcefully implemented in the country. Besides, there is another problem at hand here — one which involves transporting families from one place to another. “What are we supposed to do? What if I am invited with my family somewhere? How am I supposed to take them along with me?”asks Waqar. “Yes, there is a certain amount of risk involved, but what can we do? We can’t afford to buy cars and travelling by cabs is too expensive.”

Waqar does make a valid point as most motorcyclists come from middle-income households and so, cannot afford luxuries like taxi-cabs every other day. Even if a percentage of motorcyclists are careful on roads and observe rules, what can they do to save themselves from the reckless bus, truck and car drivers, who change lanes without warning and drive carelessly.

The paradox remains unresolved. Motorcyclists maybe a menace but they are only a symptom of an underlying condition — the alarming state of traffic and painfully consistent monthly incomes. And so, these two-wheeled road hazards, it seems, will prevail till the real issue is dealt with. For now, we must learn to make our peace with them, however, agonizing that might be.

 

In Lahore half a million There are over half a million two-wheelers in Lahore, and their riders come in as many forms as there are motorbike brands in the market to choose from. There was a time when the cycle scope at the Qadhafi Stadium was the nutty biker’s favourite haunt. When Gen Ziaul Haq handed over the stadium to the then Shaheen Force ––– read the moral police ––– all that came to an abrupt end. Since then every roundabout in the city has become a maut ka kunwan, and the stunts also include vertical scaling. Of course, the circus entails casualties; the death toll this past Independence Day was 13. The most dangerous variety of the motorcyclists is one that entails, at times, two adults and several children of varying sizes, and there is no fun unless an infant is also thrown in to complete the happy biker family. When the police see one of these, they simply look the other way out of sheer confusion: they just don’t know how many violation counts to book them for. The good thing about the biker family creed is that they trudge along the shoulder and do not seem to be in a rush to get where they may be heading. Being a Lahori means that aesthetics do count, so you often see a beeline of this variety taking the scenic canal route on the weekends. The most dangerous of the bikers are the young and trendy, and in Lahore this tribe also includes the young at heart. Wheelie is their favourite stunt; the only time they are not doing a wheelie is when one of them is head-standing in front of the driver, the erstwhile passenger, next to the petrol tank. Often it’s their abhorrence of the helmet that bonds the two together as a team. This variety is to be seen after dark on regular days on The Mall, Gulberg’s main boulevard, the Model Town Circle and on the chique DHA roads meticulously planked by manicured greenbelts. The padding thus provided helps the stuntmen perform their tricks with complete impunity. On festive occasions, and these include the weekends, the two Eids, Basant and public holidays, they rule the city and you can venture out at your own peril. Oddities aside, regular Lahore bikers are a cunning breed. Even the rickshaw-wallas watch out for them, because they can’t beat them at the speeding game. They rule the inner city’s narrow lanes as well as those between the long rows of cars stuck in a rush hour jam. For many, the footpath is a bike lane, and the divider greenbelts are there to facilitate a U-turn when the going gets tough, or the cops start acting up for nothing on a hot day. Daredevils, big and small, fat and skinny, fashionable and shabby, short and tall, they come in all sizes; but boring is one thing they aren’t. The biking mania lives on. By the way, when was the last time you saw a zig-zagger on two wheels? An hour ago, is more likely if you’re in Lahore. — Murtaza Razvi

 

The freeloaders This incident was witnessed by an acquaintance: “The weather beaten motorcycle shook unsteadily as four guys tried to sit on it. The driver revved up its engine and the two-wheeler came to life, if only barely. “Why don’t one of you take the bus?” suggested a very flustered driver as he tried to maintain the delicate balance that threatened to give way any second now. “Kyon? Tumhari motorbike kab kaam aaye gi?” answered the lanky fellow behind him. The driver had no choice but to begin his journey. Make no mistake. These were four healthy young men, who could have easily caught a bus or a rickshaw for that matter, but the inherent “freeloading” gene kicked in, preventing them from doing any such thing. As the driver slowly made his way to the main road, the fourth passenger on the vehicle, it seemed, was only partially sitting on the edge of the seat. With his feet firmly on the ground, he was sort of “walking” along with the motorcycle so that he would not lose his position from the ‘coveted’ bike. They were quite a spectacle, these freeloaders and passersby put in their two cents by saying things like Array Karachi mein buses bhi tu hain and hafta jaaye parr mufta na jaye. Such are sights and sounds of motorcyclists in Karachi. They may be an annoying lot but one cannot deny their entertainment value either.” –– S.W.P.

 

A miraculous escape Motorcyclists have been accused of a lot of things but few will give them credit for reinforcing one’s belief in miracles. How? Consider some of their near-death encounters in which they come out unscathed. About a year ago, this scribe, while going over to a friend’s place, was waiting for the light to turn green at the intersection. A few feet away, a truck driver was headed in the same direction at full speed as a motorcyclist overtook him from the left side. The truck driver tried to stop but given the speed of the vehicle, it didn’t really work and he ended up hitting the motorcycle which was completely destroyed. Miraculously, the motorbike driver survived. The impact threw him over but instead of meeting his death under the truck’s wheels, he managed to land between them. Apparently, all his bones were safe, because he got up and walked around to inspect the damage as if nothing had happened. The truck driver made a run for it because, well, that is what truck or bus drivers do in such situations. On the other hand, one isn’t quite sure what happened to the motorcyclist after that, but no prize for guessing that he probably made a brief call home from his cellphone to inform his family and then caught a cab to go home. So, yes, motorcyclists are atrocious drivers, but such acts instantly redeem them as well. –– S.W.P.

 

Being considerate Motorcyclists can be so considerate when it comes to female motorists. Some will escort you home out of sheer courtesy, or at the least accompany you to half your destination so that no harm comes to you and that you don’t feel alone in this big bad world. They will smile at you, say sweet nothings and give you those suggestive looks. They usually succeed in their endeavours — i.e. scaring the daylights of most of the women drivers which seems to massage their macho, sick egos. It’s not to say that all females get scared. There are some obstinate ones who know how to handle the situation, but unfortunately their numbers are limited. The helmut will soon hide (till the time it lasts) all the innuendos once everyone starts wearing it and mercifully the looks behind it, although the helmet itself gives a sinister appearance. Put two antennaes on the sides it will add a waspish look as well. Don’t these people have anything better to do in life? Would doomsday be near if women start doing the same thing? — K.H.

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