By Nabeela Rafique
‘BMW gari wala husband milay ga, dekh laal note dey day aj to’ the man with red lipstick and purple duppatta hailed me from my car window in the highest pitch of his voice. That’s the signal before G1 market Johar Town on my way to the office. Before that, there are two other perilous signals, each reigned by dozens of beggars, who greet you, knock on your window (making an excruciating sound), clean your windscreen (irrespective of all your rebuffing, if you are a female driver) and peep inside sticking to your car door.
This all happens when you are stopped at a traffic signal. Now, these few seconds are crucially important for other personal chores as well, like you have to set your makeup, wear shocks, put on the playlist and reply to your colleagues that you are almost there parking your car outside, check social media notifications and finish your coffee. But, these intruders don’t let you. They make sure that they get the attention. They tell you that they can see the corner of that ‘50 ka note’ near your gear, which should be handed over to them. It doesn’t matter what state of mind are you in, which song has had you all in or what serious phone call are you making, they will just clap/slap on your window saying ‘baaaaaajiiii’. And, the pity is that they insist. If you tell them by the gesture of your hand to go away, they don’t. Even if one does, the next is in line.
When you travel on the same route daily, they become, sort of, your route acquaintances. Sana, amiable and forever cheerful, a 10 years old girl is always on the Expo Center traffic signal along with her few other age fellows. You can find them running around, fighting with each other and eating together. She always peeps inside the car by keeping her both hands around her face, giving a meticulous look as she is trying to find something of her interest, and says ‘boohhaat bhook lagi hai khana khana hai’. That’s her line. No one says this line better than her. She has mastered it.
On the next signal, I meet a bunch of young boys who always clean my windscreen, no matter what face I make to snub them. They are there to help me see clearly through the screen, even when it’s already sparkly clean. Yesterday, Muhammad Junaid, 14 years old, passing by the guy who was cleaning my screen told him, ‘ae nahi deyndi paisay, aggay chal.’ That was abrupt. I felt that. Hard. I thought how good it would be if all of them know that I am too poor to give them anything, then they won’t waste their time on my car. Yayy! But you know what would be more amazing? No kid on signal! Meanwhile, the next baba ji came with a placard in hands and knocked with his nails. ‘In fact, no panhandler at all, if it could ever be possible in Lahore, I wish’. I moved the car a bit. That’s a tip. Always stop your car a few feet behind the next car. It gives you the margin to accelerate your vehicle one foot per beggar. It works sometimes, though most of the times, space ends before the number of implorers. Sigh!
The next signal on my way is the most embarrassing one. This is where a bunch of so-called transgenders rule. A few years back they used to wear proper ladies clothing from head to toe, plus accessories, making sure they look what they intend to look. Now they are so comfortable with it that they just wear a dupatta on their mardana dressing like Zaid Ali, put lipstick, and use their watchwords with their special intonation. Furthermore, they are never afraid to tell you (read: yell at you) that ‘aaj to bohat din bad ai ho baji, ye rang to bara sohna lag raha hai, ajj baji thaki hui hai sadqa dey ke jaiyo’ and things like that. I pretend I can’t see, can’t hear, can’t notice them, useless though, because everyone else around me is.
Then comes a signal dominated with a majority of old people and professional ladies holding slumbering children. They grumble if you don’t respond to their beseeching. Candor!
This is the junction where I enter the famous canal road. Now when the signals and beggars are dealt with, the next is male drivers and bikers! If you are an active female driver you know what I am talking about. This curious creation of God always wants to know who is driving the car around them. They look at you when you are stopped at red light when they or you are overtaking, passing by or even driving ahead or behind, they will turn around to have a thorough look. Nowadays, there are two types of onlookers. One the ‘lafanter’ type, who gives you a weird smile, wink or dipper. The other, just lookers. They just keep staring at you without expressions, particularly when you are at the red light. When you look back at them, their expressions don’t change; they don’t smile or evade being sighted, they are just static souls. I don’t know what sort of nirvana they practice.
If you come across type one, the tip is to give them our national swear word and make sure they can get it from your lip sync. Try not to be loud in the car if someone is sharing a ride with you, just lip-sync would work. You can also consider showing them your palm with fingers wide open. For the second kind, just give them a sincere smile or wave at them. They get embarrassed and will certainly evade any future eye contact. We do have laws for the protection of women and children on streets, but until they are enforced properly, these tips might help you. They help me at least. Happy driving!
The writer is a postgraduate student at Lahore School of Economics. She can be reached at @NabeelaRafique_
