I was visiting Osaka for a two-night stay on my way from my mother's house in Fukuoka to Thailand.
Meanwhile, the Pakistani-German rider-cum-YouTuber, Abrar Hassan, also known as "Wildlens By Abrar," was finally reunited with his beloved motorcycle, Rangeeli, in Tokyo. Abrar had shipped it from Bangkok last December, on his way from Pakistan through the incredible journey over the Eurasian Continent. I admire him and his spirit, and I have written about him many times on ASKSiddhi as well.
Now, his long-awaited motorcycle trip throughout Japan has begun.
Also on ASKSiddhi (in Japanese):
パキスタン系ライダー、ペシャワールを出発して日本を目指す旅 Posted on 05 Sep 2024
パキスタンから日本へ――「WildLens by Abrar」の果てなきバイク旅 Posted on 12 Mar 2025
Abrar Hassanさんの旅が教えてくれた、歴史といまをつなぐ視点 Posted on 28 Apr 2025
ついに日本上陸！Abrarさんの「パキスタンからユーラシア大陸縦断バイク旅」が完結へ！ Posted on 19 Apr 2025
日本でバイクを走らせるには——旅人Abrar氏の挑戦記 Posted on 06 May 2025
道頓堀で夢が叶った日──Abrarさんとの奇跡の対面 Posted on 02 Jun 2025
Although I consider myself a fan, I am sometimes unable to keep up with his YouTube videos; however, I do regularly check his Instagram Stories, which update his daily travels in real-time. Then, I found out that he was coincidentally staying in Kyoto on the day I was leaving for Osaka.
I immediately texted him from the Shinkansen, saying, "I am also coming to Osaka for two nights, tomorrow and the day after tomorrow. Are you planning to host a fan meeting (which Abrar often held during his trip in India)?"
While I had completely forgotten about it, yesterday, my mother in Fukuoka—who is also fascinated by Abrar's beautiful, immersive travel videos—contacted me and said, "Check out (Abrar's Instagram) Stories."
I quickly checked and saw that he was actually arranging a meetup in front of the popular Glico signboard in Dotonbori at 7 p.m.
A little later than the scheduled time, I arrived at Aiaubashi Bridge in Dotonbori, a symbol of Osaka, crowded with tourists. On the way there, as I pushed my way through the crowds at Ebisubashi-suji Shopping Street, I couldn't help but feel palpitations. The moment I spotted Abrar—standing out brightly, surrounded by Pakistani people living in Osaka and the Kinki region—my heart trembled even from afar. I was truly overwhelmed with emotion. I'm sure the Pakistani people had been waiting for him ever since he left Pakistan the previous year, so I could sense even more excitement among them at the prospect of finally meeting him.
I was fortunate enough to speak with a few of the women who had gathered there. Some were there with their families, and one young woman said she had lived in Kansai since birth (as a second-generation immigrant), and it was her first time in Dotonbori.
They were all cheerful and friendly, and although they were modest, they were breathtakingly good-looking regardless of their age. They understood my poor Hindi (which was essentially Urdu). When I asked an older woman, "What is the best thing about living in Japan?" she replied, "The peace," which indicated a deep meaning in the current world.
The children were fair-skinned, with dark chestnut hair, exotic, sardine-like faces. They were cute, but also possessed a certain elegance. Of course, while everyone was trying to talk to our hero, Abrar, some people quietly made room for me. I was deeply grateful for their casual kindness.
I was reminded that Pakistanis and Indians share the same deep roots, and are simple, cheerful, and warm people.
Now, on to the important part: my conversation with Abrar. When I asked him, "You went on a motorbike trip up north through India two years ago, but when are you planning to come to India again?" he replied, "I want to go back somehow. But last year I couldn't get a visa, and this year I got one, but it was rejected because of the conflict between the two countries." Still, I felt his strong will in his gentle gaze as he told me, "No matter what the situation is, I intend to try for an India visa every year."
In fact, I was so nervous that I spoke to him in the broken German I was learning, relying on the information that he lived in Germany. My brain was foggy, and I couldn't quickly switch back to English so that I couldn't have a good conversation. But Abrar was so kind that he tried to make a few words with me in German with that familiar smile.
I was very satisfied with just that—that he shook my hand, that he looked at me like a bodhisattva, that he told me that if India doesn't work out, he would like to meet us in Fukuoka (apparently), and that I was able to greet him with "Salaam Alaykum."
I was reminded once again that kindness, generosity, and sincerity are like a ray of light shining through a downpour, and they can save people's hearts.
Osaka was a "demon's gate (kimon)" for me because of just one Indian person that I couldn't bring myself to like. But now, thanks to Abrar, Osaka has made a brilliant comeback as my "favourite city in Japan." An invisible thread of fate connects my life and the Indian-Pakistani subcontinent. That was the day I truly felt that.
Due to my chronic depression, I have been unable to socialize as much as I would like, and have been feeling particularly down for the past year or two. However, gathering the courage to meet Abrar was undoubtedly a "gift from God (and my mother, who reminded me timely)." And to repay that gift, I would like to give back to society in some small but tangible way.
Yes, that is my sincere wish.
...But then, as I write this, a sudden memory comes to mind. Perhaps the footage from yesterday's fan meeting will be uploaded to Abrar's main YouTube channel in the near future.
I look forward to that day.
