The rain lashed on the car window giving the green fields across the road a smudged water-colour still-life effect; its soft pattering was soothing and I sat back comfortably with my thoughts mostly about the last three days that I had spent in Swat warming up to the hospitality of the people as I made my way back to Islamabad.

I must confess that I am not a very voluble travel partner; I enjoy the kaleidoscope of changing landscapes in solitude. But these bouts of quiet were interspersed by Hidayatullah, the vehicle’s driver who filled me in with details he felt were interesting. “Batkhela, also the capital of Malakand district, has the longest bazaar, two kilometres long with no traffic signal or intersection,” he told me. “These open air car showrooms that you see along the road have non custom-paid cars.” “Swat apples are the best in the world, but peaches have overtaken them in popularity although the latter requires nearly nine rounds of pesticide spray.”... And so on.

And then out of the blue, he told me he had been to China twelve times. That’s a lot of times I thought and was curious to know the reason. Was it in relation to the China Pakistan Economic Corridor. Or was it because the organisation he worked with was working on micro hydropower plants and needed Chinese expertise and he crossed the border to transport them?

Hidayatullah was doing good business but in a twist of fate he lost everything except his faith in God

I was wrong on all counts. His story and his visits to China happened 17 years ago, back in 1999 when he was a trader with a flourishing business in Mingora.

Fifty-six-year-old Hidayatullah, who goes by one name only, started working as an accountant in a factory after completing his intermediate. Somehow that did not seem very challenging and after 15 years he said goodbye and started his own business of supplying drugs from pharmaceutical companies to shops in the city. “I soon realised there was too much competition in this business and the flow of money was never smooth,” he said.

He packed up his business, sold the shop and began looking for newer avenues. As fate would have it, he decided to try his luck in China.

“In 1999 I began to buy things in bulk directly from factories, from jackets to watches, anything I thought Pakistanis would fancy. I was the first one to ever introduce Pakistanis to foldable mosquito bed nets that are so common today. I opened up a shop in Mingora and named it China Town. I picked this name from the net. It was famous for novel items,” he smiled with pride as he reminisced.

Life could not have been better; he seemed to have the Midas’ touch and just that right bit of recklessness that made his business flourish. “I had a risky streak in me,” he admitted.

But then the Taliban came.

“It was 2007,” Hidayatullah recalled. “I was buying blank CDs from China and selling them to the local CD shops. It was a booming business in Swat and all of KP. I also decided to invest in spare parts for mobile phones and DVDs. I had just returned from China and so had my consignment. The first bomb attack in Mingora completely destroyed my godown where I had stored the spare parts I’d just brought. To my despair, I also found out I had no buyers for my CDs after a string of bomb attacks on CD shops by the Taliban who had threatened the music shop owners to close their business terming it un-Islamic.”

In less than a week and in one stroke Hidayatullah had lost everything and his investments had literally gone down the drain. The man who had people working for him, suddenly came close to becoming a pauper. “I was out of work for over a year,” his pained voice matched the sadness for just a fraction and then he bounced back and started narrating incidents of his various travels to China, the food he ate and hotels he stayed in, the 54-hour non-stop train journeys, the time when he got tricked. “You learn so much when you travel to foreign lands,” he said.

But that one year also proved to be a litmus test and he was able to separate the genuine from fair- weather friends, he said. And among the ones who stood by him was his wife. “Had it not been for her unquestioning acceptance of our fate and complete support, I’d have been a broken man,” he said. “She took out the sewing machine and helped in every possible way. My kids did not eat as well, but thanks to her they never had to skip a meal. She also made sure none of them had to be taken out of school.” For this he remains eternally indebted to her.

The man who was once a boss and gave salaries is today working as a driver in an organisation and drawing a monthly salary. Yet there is no indication of despondency, not a trace of bitterness and no regret for where he is today. “Money comes and goes, but I’m fortunate to be in good health. If I work hard, I will be able to turn my fortunes around,” he said with conviction.

And so when he gets a second chance, Hidayatullah will go to China and this time his focus would be solar energy, buying and selling anything from solar panels to products run by solar power “like lamps and power banks”. And when the glory days return, the first thing he intends doing is to go for Haj. “If I have one regret, it is that I became so busy in the daily grind and making money that I forgot my duty to God,” he said.

“I have a fairly good business sense, my public relationing skills are good and I know the Chinese language,” said the driver. He has travelled the length and breadth of the country and even if he ever got lost, he says he can find his way. “I know it like the back of my hand,” he said.

Published in Dawn, Sunday Magazine, September 11th, 2016