Multan – Welcome to Multan

Ali Hotel, Multan, 150 Rs
So, at last, I left Lahore, with very deep feeling of sadness. I have felt that Lahore is another home of mine, keep returning back for visiting friends, enjoying the tea and watching the time flows in Anarkali, and…. the food…. Lahore is heaven.

But my visa said that I had to keep going, to see more of Pakistan, before it expires in June. So I listened to it.

The farewell of Lahore was dramatic. I didnt expect to be that. Two local friends came to visit me for having juice in Hafiz juice stall near Anarkali, then Asad, one of them, decided to go together with me to the bus station, despite of the risk of being slapped by angry father. I departed almost midnight, thinking that I would arrive early in the morning the next day, so I may save one night hotel fee and one day of travelling time.

Asad, helped me to get the public bus to the bus station. I didnt let him to share my bags, because I thought I had given him so much trouble, it was no good to add the heavy backpacks on his body. The other passengers on the bus cursed him, for not helping the guest (mehman) by sharing the bags. The bus passengers also cursed the bus conducter of asking me to pay….D but…, mehman, the guest, in Pakistan is really a big deal everywhere.

The bus journey was long, I arrived at 8 o’clock in the morning, despite of the promised 6. But it was cheap, just 150 Rs. I was terribly exhausted when arriving in Multan. Actually I was doubted that it was Multan, because we arrived in area looks like of middle of nowhere. But the long distance bus station of Multan was far away outside the city.

The first sight of Multan was not that inspiring. People kept asking my country of origin when I was really exhausted and needed rest badly. The coaster to go the city center was there, but the man refused me a lift in a very unfriendly manner, due to my luggage. Other man seeing him behaving to me, cursed the bus conductor, “Bahinchot!!!” (sister fucker, it’s a common curse in Urdu).

I arrived in Multan, at last, after passing the cantontment area that lead to the city. It was indeed a dusty city, and also hot, for what Multan is famous. Multan had four things to be proud of: garam (heat), gard (dust), garra (beggars), and goristan (tombs). I came here for the last ‘g’: goristan.

But today, there was no energy to visit any of them. Instead I would like to share some facts about Multan. The amazing thing I found that here quite a number of women were wearing burqa. The burqa has more colours than in Peshawar or Afghanistan: blue, red, orange, yellow, white, green, etc. And the head cap of the burqa was also unique, resembled what we call as ‘kuncung’ in Indonesia.

The landmark of Multan

The landmark of Multan, the big clock tower in the middle of bazaar, had quite impressive colonial architecture. The clock itself seemed tired of working, one clock was showing eleven thirty, plus five minutes. The other side of the clock one exact, oh, plus five minutes also. My watch showed 3:45. I didnt bother to see the other two sides of the clock on the tower.

The unforgiving heat of Multan can be minimalized by taking the city specialties. The faluda, cold and sweet red colour drink (that’s the colour of rose syrup) is an easy life-saviour for only 5 Rs. The Multan’s lemon juice (soda water) was specially made in strangely shaped bottles with a bullet in it. And the dudh-soda (milk soda, in Indonesian: soda gembira) is also widely available: cool and refreshing.

The old bazaar, was actually interesting. But I was too exhausted from the bus trip, so that I was very annoyed by the “Chinni… chinni … idhar ao” (Chinese! Chinese! come here!) yells from the folks who were excited to see a ‘chinese’ wandering around.

Later of the night, the dust of Multan combined with storm and wind, plus the garbages on the streets, made it resembled the sandstorm of Beijing. It rained hard at night, but still very dry and hot.

It is extremely hot