When my driver asked me, “who are you!” Part 2

One day, the second driver, Shaukat, looked happier than usual. I assumed he got some good news from the village. So, as usual, he picks up our bags and sends them to the car and opens the door for us. He then enters the car, fastening his seat belts. Yes! we made this compulsory, seat belts must be fastened. He adjusted the back mirror, smiled at me and asked, “Who are you, sir?!”. I was perplexed.
His smile was still there. When I didn’t answer, he again asked me, elongating further his smile, “Who are you, sir?!”.

His smile was still there. When I didn’t answer, he again asked me, elongating further his smile, “Who are you, sir?!”. I was curious. His smile and the question doesn’t relate. Is he trying to make fun of me? I needed clarification, but I think I should answer him first. “I’m your boss, that’s who I’m”. I answered firmly. His smile turned sour. He didn’t say anything to my answer. Shabbir drove away and Shaukat followed him behind. The drive was silent than usual. I was still bothered by his question. The drive to our office is always exciting. It will take almost one hour in the morning and it can take almost 1.5 to 2 hours during evening when we return. Our house is located at the edge of Lahore city and our office is located towards the south to Lahore.

From our housing colony, we will drive on national highway before entering the village roads to reach our office. This national highway connects Lahore to another important city, i.e. Multan, which is sandwiched between Lahore and Karachi. Multan is also known as city of saints. It hosts many tombs of famous ‘aulias’ (pious person)

The Tomb of Shah Rukn-e-Alam, as seen in the below picture, is one of the famous tombs. I have visited the city once and some of the tombs here. I will spare this experience for another time.

Coming back to the drive. Although known as national highway, this road differs much from the motorway. Motorway, e.g. like the road which connects Lahore to Islamabad, is considered a proper highway whereby the access is controlled. However, on this national highway you will be treated with the sights of donkey carts, buffalo herds crossing, goats, running around, tractors with various pulls and many more.

For us Malaysians, the drive along this road always excites, as these sights are not common even on our road along the villages in the peninsular Malaysia. However, the one thing that I hate about the drive on this road is the frequent closure of it because of rallies and unnecessary protests. Being one of the main transport artery, protestors frequently block this national highway to coerce government to succumb to their demands. We have experienced having our normal drive back home extended from 1.5 hours to 5 hours, and we consider ourselves lucky to have made it home.

There was once a close call. We were driving to work and there was some localized protest. The road was only partially closed. The traffic was moving at a snail’s pace. When we were closing towards the center of the protest, we can see the group which was protesting was burning tires while chanting. As we were driving, passing the crowd, the group suddenly turned violent. Our car was mobbed by some of the protesters. Shabbir was composed and he continued to drive slowly to ensure that we were moving away from the heat zone while at the same time we weren’t injuring the mobsters. The mobsters maybe saw that we had security inside and decided not to disturb further our vehicle. We managed to squeeze out from there.

But today’s drive was much peaceful, except for the fact that the question asked by Shaukat was still bothering me. “Who are you”. Why would he ask such a question. My routine of listening to audio books during this drive was disturbed. My mind kept on wandering, thinking about Shaukat. I almost forgot this after arriving at the office. I was kept busy by various, much critical issues at the plant.

After arriving at home as usual, both of them took our bags inside and Shabbir will always come to say goodbye to us before retiring to his room. I suddenly remembered the morning incident and I wanted clarification from him. I was expecting him to clarify it from Shaukat. “Shabbir, today morning I was upset with Shaukat”. I complained. “Why sir. Did he drive dangerously?” He asked. “Nahi yar! (No) He drives much safer than you,” I mocked him. “Sir, I don’t use horn anymore these days”. Shabbir knows one of our pain points.
“He actually asked me a question, and I don’t understand why he asked me such a question”. I diverted back to the issue. “What did he ask you, sir”? Shabbir wants me to clarify. “He asked me, who are you”. I explained. Shabbir suddenly burst into laughter. “Why yar, why are you laughing”. I didn’t get the joke. Shabbir wiped his eyes; his eyes were in tears of joy. “Sir Shaukat wanted to learn English. So I told him I will teach him short phrases of English and for start I thought him this.” He was justifying his laughter. “You thought him to ask me who I’m, and that with a face full of smile. What kind of lesson that you were teaching him,” my voice was up. “Yes, sir, but I didn’t teach him to ask, who are you.” He was rebutting me. (It was supposed to be a no, but he always use yes :-p ) “I actually taught him to ask, how are you, sir?”. He clarified. I burst into laughter and so were my friends. Just a single word mistake have caused such a commotion.

Kiya hal hay, i.e. how are you, is the most famous phrase in Urdu speaking community and it is used almost every time during opening of a conversation.

#pakistan #expatriate #culture #powerplant #9HA #driver #english