Tribute to the Side Saddle Queens

Truly a talent mastered by few. I am talking about the hundreds, if not thousands of women in Pakistan that brave the streets of Pakistan (where traffic laws mean perhaps as much as the paper the ticket is printed on). These brave souls venture out every day with their chaperones (I liked using that words rather than spelling out husbands, brothers, fiancé’s et al) on the Pakistani mass transport medium i.e. the Honda CD 70.

Not only are these women riding on these timeless (I say this only because I cannot recall the last time a Honda CD 70 changed/improved its shape or design radically) 70 cc machines without helmets and with flowing dupattas (thats part of our national dress, a long section of cloth used to cover oneself from the leering-male eye) but they dare to do so while sitting in the old Victorian side saddle position. For description’s sake this is the ‘both legs on the same side” of the bike (horse during Victorian times) position in order to appear lady-like.

With some of the well endowed behinds one is sure to see (I’m being conservative when I say ‘well’ here) on the road (due to a healthy 3-times-a-day-diet of oily, spicy and cholesterol laden Pakistani food). Waitaminute. . .It’s not the diet alone dammit! I thinks it’s the lazy ass approach to “oh my life is over when I’ve had 6 kids and what is the point of looking good now” attitude that has landed the chubby chucker cheeks where your shapely hips once used to be! (But then that’s another note on its own)

These brave side saddle queens are the modern day daredevils risking it all for the basic necessity of transport.

If any of you have driven on the roads of Pakistan recently, especially after the banking boom allowing a thousand or so cars on the road everyday (and these roads are not designed to manage this load I tell you) then you would understand and appreciate the bravery displayed in this daily activity of our own side saddle queens!

Resilience and courage have new meaning when one sees these champions of the side saddle ride quietly while their chaperones maneuver their loyal steeds (CD 70 in this case) on thin roads between buses, zipping compacts and diesel spewing trucks at every corner.

"oh you side saddle queens of the world, i salute you and honor your bravery at every step of the way. Your courage displayed has not gone unnoticed!"

p.s. i forgot to mention that at most times there are more than two persons on each one of these bikes which adds to the possible thrill these daredevils are continually seeking. And for all you sensitive souls out there i am not discounting the necessity element here. . . im just rambling on a thought that has probably occured to all of us at one time or another.

The Commie Bag

Well I got a commie bag as a gift from my old friend Saad (please refer to a previous note the return of the Saad for greater clarity if needed).

The bag is your standard, no frills, canvas shoulder carry with an inked portrait of Chairman Mao and some funky Chinese lettering. I was on a flight to Karachi (a day trip with squeezed flight timings) so I decided to pack an extra shirt and my toiletries just in case!

I enter the plane and get the last seat on the left hand side of a creaking and very old Boeing 747 Jumbo (I think it was one of the planes banned by the EU for having outlived its utility by some 15 years) and hang the bag from the headrest of the seat in front of me. The reason for this (for you curious cats out there) was to have easy access to my iPod and my book (A Matter of Honor by Jeffery Archer).

A few moments later my fellow passenger arrives and as luck would have it; he was Chinese. Noticing my iPod in my ear and me engrossed in the book he glanced to the bag, muttered something to his other friend (also Chinese) and took his seat. He took out a magazine (in English, I think it was Newsweek) and started reading the latest article on Pakistan’s deteriorating political scenario. Every so often he would sneak a peek at my bag and then at me and then go back to reading the article while painstakingly underlining some of the sentences in the article.

We take off an hour and fifteen minutes late (the flight got delayed due to ‘technical faults’; and I thought this time they aren’t lying given the age and wear & tear to the plane) and the in-flight meal was served shortly thereafter. I continued to read while I enjoyed some Thievery Corporation tunes in the background. 10 minutes before our descent the pilot announced us to fasten our seatbelts and ‘bring our seatbacks to an upright position’ (the logic of which I intend to question someday) and I decided to wrap up the book and iPod for the return flight (it’s about 2 hours to Karachi from Islamabad).

Grasping the opportunity my neighbor blurts “That iz poltlait of Chailmen Mao! “ I nodded while briefly giving him a background on how I got in possession of the bag.

“You Know Chailmen Mao?” he asked.

“Not personally but yes I am slightly familiar with his political rule in China and the communist era.”

“Okay” He replied.

“What do you do?” I asked out of politeness

“Eye am Joulnalist” he stated.

“Well enjoy your stay in Karachi.” I replied and was on my way out when I stopped and asked “What is this lettering under the Chairman’s portrait?”

“Evelything foh tha People” was his stately reply.

And I was on my way off the plane, on the gangplank and on my way to the waiting office car to take me to my meeting.

All that way and till much later into the evening I kept thinking.

Why do we not have someone who can reform this country through a belief in those simple four words “Everything for the People!”

And then I was (and still am) sad about the current state of affairs in Pakistan. Sad to see all the potential in Pakistan go to waste, sad to see the talent in our Nation go astray, and sad to see myself not able to do much more than write this note to express how I feel.

p.s. I didn’t make the flight back and the bag (and its contents) came in mighty handy!