Climbing the iron steps to reach the top, one can look directly into the abyss called Maut Ka Kuan except this one will for sure respond by reminding about time, risk appetite, and of course the lengths to which Pakistanis will always go to survive. Also known as the ‘Well of Death’, the stuntmen who perform for the crowds encircling the well, which is erected at a height of at least 25 feet, overcome fear and terror every ten minutes to enter the arena with the intention to just entertain.
Coming to Islamabad’s signature F9 park in the last week of February, the ever-famous Lucky Irani Circus, which is a household name for most Pakistanis (at least middle class), also brought Maut ka Kuan for spectators. Rapper and singer Hanumankind’s Big Dawgs also put extreme amusement on the world map because the thrill is equally popular in India as well. No wonder Instagram was soon swarmed with videos of Pakistani Maut ka Kuan with the rapper’s ‘Big stepper, underground methods’. This one also had a rusty but definitely trusty old FX, which put on a solo show followed by the bikes.
Priced at Rs150, which is just a little more than fifty cents, this is, needless to say, one of the cheapest modes of entertainment in a country where people yearn for amusement.
The thrill to watch two men get on their CD-70s, which is staple on the roads otherwise, even though for a matter of a few minutes, is enough to cheer the onlookers who hoot and clap each time the stuntmen whizz past them, with a fraction of a second to hand any acknowledgement to them as various denominations of notes waltz pass the riders and land at the bottom. Rattling the wooden planks where spectators stand, the riders take two to three rounds before landing to safety.
Hailing from Bahawalpur, 40-year-old Imran Iqbal has been risking his life for this industry for around three decades now, which basically means he was hardly 11 or 12 when he learned the knack of riding his bike against the dilapidated wooden planks arranged in a circular way atop each other to create the ‘well’ supported by the iron structure.
Imran, with his thick moustache, wearing a jacket over a cream shalwar-kameez, enters the arena, and as he zooms past the onlookers, he can be seen riding without his hands on the handle, arms open wide, side-saddling away. He stretches his arm for any favours the audience may bestow upon him.
Speaking about the first time he did this, Imran says that, like any other job, it is learned from experience and trial and error.
“Anyone you see driving on the road does not become a driver from their homes right; they will have to enter the field just like you have become a journalist. You studied, and then you started practicing. Similarly, I learnt this knack as well and gained experience over time,” he states in a matter-of-fact tone.
Contrary to journalism, though, which often does not entertain children, Imran was a child when he entered this field: “We just left home and came into this field, and Mashallah, this became our work. If you put your heart and mind to something, you can become a master, so we learnt on the job. Now, look at my daughters, who are currently in ninth and eighth grade. They are learning how to use a computer alongside their studies. If they refuse to learn, they won’t know how to use computers, so it’s all about learning. Some are fit to operate machines, and we are fit for the role we perform here.”
Adamant about his knack, Imran believes that riding the bike in Maut Ka Kuan is just like flying a plane or operating a train.
“The plane that flies has a pilot who has experience and who has the technique and education to support him. The train that runs on a track is similar as well. Similarly, any work, whatever field a person is in, like looking at a Mufti Sahib, they studied and gained so much knowledge, they’ve become a kind of engineer in their field. This is the same; through driving, we’ve gained the knowledge of engineering, and we know the technique to balance the vehicle at that height,” he explains.
Ramzan, who hails from Lahore, accompanies Imran as the duo rides against gravity, but the former often ends the show sooner and avoids too many stunts.
Grateful for the opportunities this knack has led him to, Imran excitedly shares that he has performed across Pakistan and has gone to Muscat, Oman, and got a chance to enthrall audiences in Saudi Arabia as well: “I’ve been to Saudi Arabia for Umrah. It’s all by the grace of Allah. I stayed in Saudi Arabia for three months because Maut ka Kuan runs there too. Similarly, I have been to Oman and also Afghanistan.”
To be looked upon by so many people can be daunting, but Imran is a simple person whose goal is to ensure that the spectators feel entertained.
“When anyone watches us, my objective is to make sure that their hearts are filled with happiness. I do not make a lot of money here, a mere Rs2,000 each day, but I feel such gratitude when people enjoy the show because the whole world comes to see the show,” he says, beaming with pride.
Explaining his belief and concept of time, space, and fate, Imran says he does understand the immense risk he takes, especially because there is no safety net, metaphorically and in actuality.
“Of course I can fall. It’s like, during Musharraf’s time, there was a debacle, and the Indians said they could crush Pakistan in five minutes, to which Musharraf retorted, ‘five minutes is too long; blink, and you’ll be gone.’ What God wills will happen, so this is also like that. If you blink, you’re gone.
This is very dangerous work. It looks beautiful, but it’s a matter of a second that if I get distracted for even a millisecond, I would not be up there,” he admits, recalling the times when he too fell to the ground.
“That’s the thing, it’s a matter of a second right. There’s a high risk of falling. When I was young, I used to fall and bounce back as well, but now that I am older, I do worry because even a minor scratch hurts a lot. So yes, I do feel sceptical, but then this is my line of work and my source of income, so I cannot leave it, can I?” He laughs as the bell rings loudly, signalling him to go into his performer mode once more.
All photos are taken by the author