In the remote, winding hills of Jalpaiguri district, West Bengal, villages sit like forgotten islands—without roads, hospitals, or ambulances. For years, when someone fell sick, they were carried on shoulders. Some made it. Most didn’t.
One such night, Karimul Haque’s mother fell seriously ill. He rushed her to the hospital—but there was no ambulance, no help. She died in his arms. The moment carved a deep, silent wound.
But Karimul didn’t sink into grief.
He made a vow: “No one else should die because they couldn’t reach the hospital.”
And with that, he began his journey—from a tea garden worker to India’s Motorcycle Ambulance Man.
This is the Ziddh of a man who didn’t have money, power, or education—only a bike, a will, and an undying sense of duty.
A Life of Simplicity
Karimul was born in 1965, in Dhalabari, a remote village. He worked as a daily wager in the tea gardens—hard labor, long hours, little pay. Life was tough, but routine.
Everything changed when his mother passed away in 1995. She died because she couldn’t get medical attention in time. That night, Karimul cried—but not out of helplessness. He cried because he knew he had to do something.
With no money to buy an ambulance or build a clinic, he turned to the only thing he had—his motorcycle.
The Birth of a Lifeline
In 1998, Karimul modified his humble bike by attaching a makeshift stretcher, made of bamboo and metal. It wasn’t smooth. It wasn’t fast. But it worked.
He began ferrying the sick and injured—through forests, across rivers, over hills, and through the night. Often barefoot. Sometimes in storms. Always for free.
“People call me at 1 AM, 3 AM—I never say no.”
To date, Karimul has transported over 6,000 people to hospitals—many of whom owe their lives to a man who earns less than ₹300 a day.
No Roads? No Problem.
In areas where ambulances won’t go—either because there are no roads or because it’s not “profitable”—Karimul’s bike became a symbol of faith.
He doesn’t just drive. He:
- Performs basic first aid
- Counsels families
- Arranges medicines
- Spreads health awareness in tribal areas
Sometimes he even carries two patients at once, balancing both safety and urgency.
And he never charges a rupee.
A One-Man Ecosystem
Karimul is illiterate, but his instincts are precise.
He maintains a notebook with numbers of local doctors, hospitals, and blood banks.
He has trained himself in CPR and emergency response.
And he does it all without any government funding.
His sons help him now, and villagers come together to maintain his bike.
When asked why he never gave up, he simply says:
“Because when someone holds your hand in pain, you don’t let go.”
From Tea Garden to President’s Honour
In 2017, Karimul Haque was awarded the Padma Shri, India’s fourth-highest civilian award.
But when he received the letter, he thought it was a joke. He never even dreamed of going to Delhi.
He stood on the stage in his white kurta, humble, quiet, smiling. The man who once couldn’t save his mother had now saved thousands of others’ mothers.
The Ziddh Takeaway
Karimul Haque is proof that you don’t need big things to make a big difference.
All you need is a heart that refuses to stop.
His Ziddh didn’t come from anger. It came from empathy.
He saw pain—and decided to answer it, not with complaints, but with a motorbike and commitment.
He turned grief into grace.
And a ₹22,000 bike into a lifeline for thousands.
