On Three Wheels: An Anthropology of Karachi's Autorickshaw
Mobile Precarity, Masculinity, and Urban Survival Entering the City from the Back Seat To understand Karachi, one must first understand its noise. It is not a singular sound, but a geological layering of sonic strata: the deep bellow of the Bedford bus, the high-pitched whine of the Honda CD-70, and, bridging them both, the rhythmic, coughing staccato of the autorickshaw. If you climb into a green-and-yellow autorickshaw, you are most likely to read: "Maa ki dua, Jannat ki hawa". "Kidhar jana hai, sahib?" the driver asks, not just to know the destination, but to calculate the moral, economic, and physical cost of the ride. Karachi is often read through maps, flyovers, gated societies, and development plans. But another map exists — drawn not by planners but by rickshaw drivers. It is a living cartography of shortcuts, dangers, police points, rich neighborhoods, flooded streets, and invisible borders. The autorickshaw is not merely a vehicle; it is a mo...