Jammed in Dhaka
Sheikh Iraj
It was 5 am in the morning. I woke up, a bit reluctantly, to face the harsh intense music that the streets of Dhaka have to offer. Believe me, for an average person, its a battlefield out there. And things dont get any better for students, especially if you are obliged to use public transport.
Suppose you live in Mirpur and you have to go to Banani for classes, you better come all geared up for battle. One day, I was so frustrated with the long wait for a bus (which was stuck in a jam somewhere, no doubt) that I decided to hire a taxi. I asked the driver whether he would go to Banani. He agreed, but also added that the fare would be no less than 250 taka (the minimum fare was Tk 80 then). I replied: Chacha, I want to ride the car, not buy it! And there is a meter, what the use of that if you dont use it?
The taxi driver refused (of course!) and I had no other option but to get back in the waiting line. Finally, when the bus came and it was my turn, I realised there were at least 10 to 15 people trying to get in at the same time. I said to myself, boy its now or never! Its every man for himself.
Do you know it is actually a good thing that most of the buses in our country dont have window glasses? The local buses, at least, follow this trend strictly. But that can be very handy, sometimes. Suppose you are taking the bus during a hartal (strike) and picketers are trying to burn it down, the glassless window can be the best way out for you. And I did the same thing.
Only this time _ I got inside the bus, instead of getting out. While climbing inside, I unintentionally stepped on a middle-aged man, but he seemed to take it in his stride. I soon found out the man was actually the bus conductor, not a passenger. I realised that he was rather happy that I had managed to get in: he had an extra passenger for fare!
Everything seemed better than normal _ the bus was not stopping anywhere, more amazingly, there was no traffic on our way. Now, that worried me. I thought: something must be wrong. This is too good to be true. As soon as we reached Mirpur 10, a police van started to follow us with its siren blazing.
When our bus was made to stop, it turned out that some VIP was passing through and due to security reasons, half of Mirpur Road was closed off. And our bus had enjoyed the benefit, however brief, of driving in Dhaka without stepping on the brake every 15 seconds. After 10 minutes of intense conversation with the driver, the police came to a decision that the bus wasnt carrying anything dangerous and let it go. As we were on our way again, with strange questions on my mind regarding the little adventure just witnessed, the conductor suddenly shouted: Farmgate! Farmgate! I was jerked awaken from my daydream _ the entire time I had been on the wrong bus! The next thing you know, the conductor was in front of me and indicating something with his hand. I had a feeling that it had something to do with my wallet _ he was claiming his fare.
