The bone-rattling rickshaw ride finally ended and I disembarked at the Sukkur bus stop. My gloomy mood improved when I saw that the waiting area at the bus stop was comfortable and clean. I bought a ticket for Bahawalpur. The bus ride was very comfortable and there was a young lady serving soft drinks, biscuits and chips to keep my hunger at bay.

The bus pulled into the Bahawalpur stop after seven hours , which included three stops for checking by the Rangers. The luggage was checked and every passenger was asked to produce their  national identity card and was also photographed. This exercise was repeated throughout my return trip as well.

Having intentionally done no homework on places to stay, I asked the rickshaw driver for his recommendation. “Regal Hotel is the best!” he informed me. For once the ride was smooth as the roads of Bahawalpur were in perfectly good condition.   The hotel was located in the Cantonment area. The room and the linen was the cleanest of all the places I had stayed at. The bathroom was clean but incongruently smelly. Fortunately for my aching thigh muscles it boasted a working western-style toilet.

I stepped out but there was nothing of interest on the street where the hotel was located. As I came to the hotel lobby I saw the two receptionists having dinner. Of course, they insisted that I join them. When I politely declined they said that I must at least have the famous Bahawalpur gajjar ka halwa. I reluctantly took a small spoonful: This was the Eureka moment! Never had I tasted a better gajjar ka halwa! I shamelessly ate it all up. The two young men told me proudly, “Not only is this the best halwa in Punjab, but the best in Pakistan!” I can truthfully confirm the veracity of their statement as even the gajjar ka halwa I had eaten in Ichra, Lahore could not hold a candle to the competition from Bahawalpur!

Nur Mahal — one of the former residences of the Bahawalpur Nawabs

The stately main entrance hall of Nur Mahal

It was cold and windy the next morning when I set out to see Nur Mahal that was previously one of the palaces occupied by the Nawabs of Bahawalpur. There was a small kiosk outside selling coffee and tea. I opted for the coffee and what a great coffee it turned out to be. My spirits thus revived I entered the Nur Mahal.

It was good to see how well the exterior, interior and the grounds of the palace were maintained. The palace was under the care of the Pakistan army.

The spacious grounds around the palace

Majestic vaulted ceilings

Unfortunately the other palaces located in the city were also under army control also and not open to public. There was news though that one such palace, the Darbar Mahal, may be opened to public soon.

While I did not go into the city centre of Bahawalpur, what I saw of the Cantonment area was impressive in terms of good condition of the roads and the general cleanliness.

It was my seventh day on the road and by night my greatest fear had materialized: I had an upset stomach. While I can take a good degree of bone rattling and muscle pain, a wayward stomach is my nemesis. Early next morning, I took a taxi and boarded a Daewoo for Karachi. There was a thick fog and I tried not to look out of the window. The driver negotiated these difficult conditions with exemplary skill and patience. Fourteen hours later I was at the bus stop in Sohrab Goth on the outskirts of Karachi. The best thing of this long ride was that my stomach had held up!

My ride home was a ramshackle taxi that appeared to be rusted metal held up with strings. It was the slowest moving vehicle on the road but it was a miracle that it moved at all. The driver, an old man, had a persistent hacking cough that indicated some serious illness. He was very proud of his reliable car and thankful to God for the good life he had. Thinking who would take care of him as his health becomes worse, I asked him if he had a family, “No Sir I have no children” he replied.

Thus ended a journey that was tough for my aging body but refreshing for my jaded psyche and I could start anew to enjoy the comforts I had been taking for granted.

And it was cheap; a mere Rs. 15,000 for a trip halfway across Pakistan and back – all travel, food and hotel expenses included.

But much more importantly, I understood that Pakistan is a true bundle of contradictions. On the one hand, there is the poor physical infrastructure; broken streets, crumbling dwellings, over-flowing gutters, contaminated water, but the common people who are forced to live in these abject conditions are kind, warm and welcoming to travelers and strangers. And that’s why, despite the hardship, it was not just an eye-opening but a life-affirming trip.