DID SOMEONE call for a doctor? He arrives, always on time, in the stretch of a black limo. Dark, lint-free suit, and a demeanour as polished as shoe leather -- or the fender of that fine car.

Years of study, and work on three continents, have brought the good doctor to us -- qualified enough to open the back door of his airport limousine, and ask, with humble courtesy, ''Where can I take you today?''

His German-earned PhD. His years of teaching. His mastery of environmental science -- an authority on the purification of life-giving water -- who graduated from three different, recognized universities. And -- as a nation -- we're just happy "Doctor Sahiv" knows the shortest route to the hotel, speaks English for the ball scores and, "Oh driver, could you turn down the air conditioning, please?"

"I've wasted my whole life," the father of two offers, resting in a modest driver's lounge, as his, and other limos, wait in tight formation near Pearson's Terminal 2. "Why did I even bother with school at all, if you just needed me to drive a car?

"I am an environmental scientist polluting the air with my exhaust."

If there is an industry where you can track -- place a clicking meter -- on the waste of qualified and highly educated immigrants, it's the taxi trade. Foreign-trained doctors, lawyers and engineers -- ready-made to fill an expected shortage of up to one million skilled workers within five years -- are being dumped, literally, on the street, once they arrive in Canada.

A faulty, arguably discriminatory system is costing new Canadians a dream of giving their best to their adopted country, and is highway-robbing our nation of billions of dollars annually in lost, and badly needed, potential.

A little more than a decade ago, Rashpal Singh left his aerospace job in England, and headed across the Atlantic, hoping his children would avoid the undercurrents of racism he felt in the U.K.

He arrived here, took a breath, and walked into a recession. Suddenly, he wasn't toiling in an engineering trade, but rather flipping a meter in a car for hire.

"I would hear, again and again, 'You have no Canadian experience,' " he recalls. "I used to get upset.

"But I didn't come here for financial reasons. I could have done well in the U.K. I came here for my kids."

Both his children are heading for law degrees -- home-grown credentials which will never be suspect.

Karam Punian, vice-president of the Airport Taxi Cab Association, can count off more than 20 drivers who've earned better than a master's degree.

Punian was once an economist.

On this day, he started driving his cab at 4 a.m. -- logging his own economy from the front seat.

"How Canada looks on the outside, is not how it looks from the inside," he has discovered. "But we make the sacrifices, not for us, but for the next generation."

Immigration officials initially salivate at the breadth of each newcomer's education and experience, but once many immigrants try to work their trades here, they find credentials are not believed and certainly belittled. Many are told to start from almost scratch, while complaining they take a back-seat to Canadian-born applicants. So, in a flood to make their daily bread, the road-scholars -- many from middle-eastern countries -- drive other doctors and lawyers on their rounds. And try to stay quiet, along the way.

"Passengers don't want their driver to be educated," says the 61-year-old, India born "Doctor Sahiv," his nickname among fellow drivers. "Passengers want drivers to shut up. Just 'Yes Sir,' and 'No sir.'

"I thought it was a civilized country. I thought I could use my (degrees). I was wrong, but Canada loses because of it."

While well known among his peers, he is embarrassed his PhD collects dust, so he doesn't want his name used here. Besides, his intellect tells him things will never change.

There is a calculable fare attached to that failure, warns University of Toronto sociology professor Jeffrey Reitz, who's been studying the employment success, and missteps, of new Canadians.

An American who immigrated to this country in the '70s, Reitz has concluded the Canadian economy is losing $2 billion annually due to immigrants being short changed on the careers. That's a half-billion dollars more than the entire taxi and limo industry generates each year in this country.

In the 1960s and '70s, immigrants largely prospered more here than if they had made their way into the U.S. Not because we were more tolerant, argues Reitz, but rather because our post-secondary education lagged behind America. Canada simply needed trained immigrants. The void was filled.

Today, there's been a shift in the labour market.

It doesn't favour the educated newcomer, who is often thrown in reverse.

When a Canadian-born university graduate doesn't manage to find a career to match his degree, they usually climb down a rung or two on the job ladder.

STEREOTYPE IS TRUE

"For immigrants, it's not making their way down two rungs. They suddenly fall five or six," Reitz explains.

"There is a stereotype of taxi drivers being immigrants. But it's true."

In a cab marking time until they both pick up their next fares, a young electrical engineer and an aging fighter pilot sit and talk about what they expected of Canada.

Driver Shafiq-Ur-Rehman Gohir has three brothers, like himself, who have engineering degrees. Another brother was a vet, before they all immigrated from Pakistan five years ago. They now drive cabs.

"After 9/11, all the jobs for us dried up in Canada," explains Gohir, retrained in wireless telecommunications at Humber College.

The jet-pilot-turned-hack, who did not want his name used, hoped his dreams would soar when he arrived in Canada: "I told them I wanted to teach pilots to fly. After 9/11, they just shook their heads."

Dozing in the closed heat of the idling taxi, the former flyer adds: "Millions of dollars to train me, and here I sit."

Immigration Minister Judy Sgro agrees having some of the world's best trained cabbies is no good for moving the economy of the country. She says finding a solution is a "very high" priority. But there's currently a backlog of thousands of skilled workers waiting to have foreign credentials recognized.

"It's a huge issue ... It's a huge talent base that's here in Canada and they're not doing the jobs they came here (to do)," she has concluded.

"There's a real brain waste out there."

Provincial officials say they're putting an extra effort into verifying and recognizing foreign credentials, especially with doctors.

Mentoring programs have begun to help guide some immigrants through the red tape.

Ottawa has pledged $50 million to improve immigrant language skills, while another $1 million is going toward two projects to help foreign-trained workers put their talents to use.

But a C.D. Howe Institute study found recent immigrants --many highly educated -- earn less than those who arrived 30 years ago.

RURAL AREAS GO BEGGING

Rural Canadians beg for doctors and lawyers to work their towns. Here in Toronto -- where 60% of new Canadians choose to settle -- they're so abundant, you can hail them down on any street corner.

"Nine hundred doctors retire each year, and look at me," says Aly Mahmoud, an Egyptian-trained family doctor who came to Canada more than two decades ago, only to find work nursing a cab through a crowded city.

Today, he owns the company -- Sunrise Taxi -- and doesn't begrudge Canada for not using his talents.

"God bless Canada -- it's my country," he says, while stopped at a Scarborough coffee shop in his cab, A310.

"I have no regrets. But I hope things change for the latest (generation).

"I know (another) doctor who's now working in a car wash," laments the father of five. "Put them in Newfoundland or Halifax. Make use of them."

'Doctor Sahiv' is not so optimistic that will happen soon. He believes this article will accomplish very little.

Much like his impressive degrees.

It's barely the middle of a shift, which can run for 20 hours. Tomorrow he'll sleep most of the day.

But he should be testing well water samples in a remote Canadian community, he presses.

Perhaps he should have never gone to school, he says.

"If I can serve this country with less education, then why not?" he asks.

"You didn't use my full potential," he scolds.

Canada hails the cab, but not the drivers.

The next time you jump into a Toronto taxi, forget, for a moment, where you're going. Instead, ask the doctor in the front seat where he's been.