A Journey in Karachi.

With the bus in motion, a no man's land takes a myriad of manifestation; everyone is unique, all-the-same, and the destination, known and unknown simultaneously.   

Journeying by buses of Karachi is an experience everyone should have. These buses are detailed highly with embellished decorations, and this art is a mode of expression for truck drivers. The adornments inside these buses include paintings, structural changes, calligraphy, mirror work on the front and back of the vehicles. The poetry on these buses comprises of phrases like: 'If he had not given his heart, he would have lost his life', and 'Look, but with love.' The interior of these buses is just as striking as the exterior. These transporters are extraordinarily vivid and evocative and give the public traveling on these buses, a second wind. 

The bus rocks from side to side as the passengers travel the familiar roads, while their brain affords the time to daydream and rest. There are always the two peas in a pod, chattering like no other, their voices rising and stirring together as the sweet ritual of friends. The ride is not entirely sleek as the roads are ruined with potholes and chuckholes, but the bus runs so swiftly that the passing greenery and the crowd of people on the pavements turn into a hazy blur. As the weary passengers step in the vehicle, their sweat shamelessly mixes with the rests and gives a pungent smell which fearfully filthy to the nose, and smells slightly like diluted gas. 

-Picture Credits: Reuter/File.

The passengers swamp the bus with muddied silence. A man outside drops his cigarette to the pavement, and smothers it with the sole of his shoe; then he steps inside the bus. With every bounce of the suspension, everyone's heads would wobble around as if they were attached to their necks loosely. As the breaks squeak, everyone lurches forward as their body complies with the force of motion. Obnoxious, loud children laugh and yell, and the irritated adults grit their teeth to the extent of snapping their jaws. The elderly are sitting with their heads resting on the head restraint, and the young men go out their way and give space to women and elders and stand themselves. 

The passengers jostle back and forth as the world passes by the windows; there is a small movement amongst the passengers. Bus drivers never bother to wait for their passengers, and many bus passengers are self-trained on-boarding a moving bus. One can always hear traditional music playing according to the ethnicity of the bus driver, with breaks during Azan time. Some absorb themselves in music, where others drift into worries that will erase themselves on arrival. 

These bus rides are a reality check for people, a meditation, a chance for thoughts to meet their horizon. With the bus in motion, a no man's land takes a myriad of manifestation; everyone is unique, all-the-same, and the destination, known and unknown simultaneously.