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Taxi Story – The Pakistani (II)

March 4, 2009

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I am from Lahore and I drive this taxi part time. The taxi is owned by an Indian. I found this Indian CD behind the visor. It is actually a Pakistani song but the Indians like it. It is a very beautiful song and actually we all like it. Now this one is from India. It is an OK song. I will leave it playing.

I came from Pakistan 12 years ago. I went back to Pakistan every year until my parents died. Parents are the centre of the universe and the reason we go back. But they are now dead. Now I am the centre.

I have driven cabs the whole time I have been here. I have qualifications that helped me get to Australia but then companies wanted me to have Australian experience to get a job. It was very hard. I came here and had to say that I would be prepared to do anything. No job could be too ordinary or too small.

I had friends in Sydney before I came here. But it is still hard leaving your roots. I like living here and am happy but I have no roots into this town. My school friends still live and work together where we grew up. They still have those roots that I severed. I get more conscious of those roots the older I get. I have a friend in New Zealand. He is in Christchurch. He has a carpet business. he keeps saying “come to Christchurch. it is beautiful. I t will make you forget Australia.” New Zealand is beautiful I know but I am the new centre of the family. These are my new roots and the roots of my family. Not deep but growing.

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