aris Khan was born in the picturesque village of Kuza Bandai, a mere 10 kilometres from the Mingora and Saidu Sharif in the Swat Valley. This idyllic haven, graced by natural beauty, holds a historical tapestry woven by the footsteps of Alexander the Great during his conquest. Before his arrival, Hindu rajas had ruled the place. Post-Alexander, it became a haven for Buddhists. As Waris Khan attests, ancient Buddhist remnants still whisper tales of the past in the mountainous terrains of his village and across Swat.

Khan’s journey from his village school to the bustling metropolis of Karachi in 1993 transformed the canvas of his life. Nestled in Hijrat Colony, close to Boat Basin, he reminisces about the serene existence of his village, a memory kept alive through fading visits. The rhythm of Karachi’s pulse has engulfed him, casting him into the swift and dynamic realm of a W-11 mini-bus driver.

With pride gleaming in his eyes, he extols the unmatched allure of the W-11 in the city. “No other bus comes close to a W-11,” he declares with fervour. To him, the W-11 is more than a mere vehicle; it’s an airborne marvel, a jahaaz (aircraft) that soars. Understanding the nuances of his trade, Khan emphasises the importance of embellishing the minibus, adorning it with lights, a stellar stereo system and popular tunes to win the hearts of his passengers.

Reflecting on his journey, Khan says that his tryst with mini-buses began in 1999. A chance encounter with a friend, already a driver, paved the way for his introduction to an employer with a fleet of mini-buses. The formality was minimal; a driving license, even before he turned 18, sufficed. A successful test drive secured his employment.

His routine starts at 6:00 am at Jackson adda (depot). The token system governs the operation of all mini-buses, buses and coaches on city routes. Khan’s daily route encompasses iconic landmarks, weaving through Keamari, Nagina Cinema, Tower, Boulton Market, Taj Hotel, Light House, Bunder Road, Liaquatabad, Karimabad, Federal B Area, Godhra Camp, and culminating at Sindhi Hotel in New Karachi. The stringent schedule demands punctuality; any deviation incurs a fine, a fact Khan cheekily attributes to the corruptible nature of the system.

Enduring the chaos of Karachi’s traffic, Khan completes his ‘single’ in one and a half to two hours, and his ‘up-down’ from New Karachi to Keamari at the end of the day. The bustling adda, with its 200-strong vehicle line up, becomes a hub for maintenance checks and respite. Khan, often at the mercy of the mistri’s (mechanic’s) approval, returns home around 8.00 pm.

Financially, Khan navigates a landscape where earnings fluctuate after accounting for tokens, fees paid to the addas and daily sustenance. He is unfazed by potential encounters with traffic police, as the munshi and the owner take care of those details. In the chaotic dance of Karachi’s streets, Waris Khan manoeuvres his W-11, a modern-day chariot, in the city’s ceaseless rhythm.

The writer is an author, illustrator and educator. She may be reached at husain.rumana@gmail.com