A journey on a pink bus with all the red flags

I waited for nearly half an hour at the Azampur Bus Stop in Uttara on Tuesday afternoon, hoping to catch a glimpse of a pink bus. But that proved to be easier said than done. 

Even though a fleet of pink buses started operating on various routes from Abdullahpur just last week, with much fanfare, they have already become a rare sight. Only those with enough patience might be fortunate enough to spot one—let alone actually ride it.

Despite the presence of makeshift counters for several bus companies at the Azampur Bus Stop—including Bikash, Raida, Turag, Akash, Victor Classic, Bhuiyan, Azmeri Glory, and Asmani—only one appeared to be fully operational: VIP. 

Likewise, while most other buses arriving from the Abdullahpur direction stopped haphazardly to pick up and drop off passengers, only VIP buses adhered to their designated counter. None of them, however, were pink buses—just the regular VIP ones.

There was no large crowd at the counter, but the attendant was frustratingly slow in issuing e-tickets and collecting payments. From a distance, I also noticed that he was engaging in arguments every now and then with those who came to buy tickets.

This led to a backlog, with as many as five VIP buses queued up at the stop at one point. As the waiting drivers honked impatiently for those ahead to move, passengers inside the buses also voiced their irritation. Their complaints did little to speed up the process at the counter.

Finally, a pink VIP bus arrived, stopping behind the queue of other VIP buses. I heard a pedestrian remark, "Hey look, a Pookie bus is here!" 

But was it any different from the regular buses? Not really. It was just as rundown and dilapidated as the others, only covered in a fresh coat of pink paint—giving it a peculiar look that, to the pedestrian, seemed "Pookie" simply because of its colour.

I waited for the other buses to leave the station—lest after buying my ticket, I might have to ride one of them. Once they had left and the pink bus moved to the front, I approached the counter and asked about its nearest stop to Dhaka University campus. The attendant told me it would be the New Market. I requested a ticket for that stop.

He asked for Tk 65 and handed me a ticket to Azimpur from BNS Center—the last stop before Azampur. The reason was clear: by issuing the ticket from an earlier stop to a later stop, he was inflating my total journey distance to overcharge me.

"This is not fair. You must give me a ticket from Azampur to New Market," I told him. In response, he gave me a sly smile and said, "Not all stoppages are in this POS machine. The boarding point has to be at the BNS Center. Also, there's no nearby stoppage listed in the system before Azimpur."

Hearing this, I said, "Alright, if you can set the starting point from a previous stoppage, then do the same for the destination." But he disagreed, "That's not possible. The last stoppage entered into the system before Azimpur is Manik Mia Avenue, and that's way too far from Azimpur."

In the meantime, the pink bus was about to leave. The conductor called out, "Get on now, or we're leaving!" Realising there was no point in arguing further with the counter attendant, I reluctantly bought the e-ticket for Tk 65 and boarded the bus.

As I took my seat, a fellow passenger chuckled and said, "Funny that you even bothered arguing. This is how they scam us with e-tickets—always using the excuse that not all stoppages are in their system."

It was clear that even some passengers had become accustomed to such deceptions. One of them reasoned, "At least this bus takes the elevated expressway. So, we'll reach our destination faster than the other local buses."

But he wasn't quite right, and it became apparent soon. Just as the bus had to wait for a long time at the Azampur Bus Stop for its turn at the counter, the same delays kept happening at the later stops as well. And naturally, that pushed the passengers to the edge of their patience.

At one point, before the bus entered the elevated expressway from the airport area, it waited in a queue of other VIP buses for nearly 15 minutes. Frustrated, a passenger shouted at the bus helper, "What's going on? How long are we going to wait here?" 

Initially, the bus helper stayed silent. But as the passenger started throwing insults, the helper finally stepped forward and said, "Why are you blaming me? It's the bus owners' decision to make us wait at the stops like this."

The passenger retorted, "Well, I'm not taking this bus again! Local buses are much better. If you don't like the service, you can take your money back and get off the bus!" Several other passengers agreed. One added, "What's the point of all this nonsense if you can't even provide decent service?"

But let alone providing good service, the pink bus began showing its true colours (pun intended) once it left the elevated expressway at Farmgate. It started stopping or half-stopping frequently to let passengers off, even though it had been promised that these buses would only stop at designated points. 

While allowing passengers to disembark, the bus also started picking up new passengers—without issuing e-tickets. Naturally, there was no record of these passengers, and the "extra income" generated from them would be split between the helper and the driver.

Curious, I asked the driver, Latif Mia, about the reason behind these illegal activities. Initially, he was reluctant to talk, but eventually, he opened up.

Photo: Jannatul Naym Pieal

"What else can we do? We're not sure whether this new system will even work, or whether we'll really get a fixed salary at the end of the month as promised. Nothing's been put in writing. If this system fails, we won't get our promised salary, or it'll be delayed. In the present circumstance, we can't afford to take that risk."

His uncertainty was understandable. While this particular bus company was still operating under the new system, most others had already ceased operations or were running at limited capacity due to conflicts with the bus owners over their authority to stop wherever they pleased to pick up passengers.

"Don't forget, this is Bangladesh," Latif Mia continued. "Here, no new system lasts for long. Eventually, everything returns to the way it was. And the passengers are so used to the old ways that they're not really interested in paying extra for these so-called premium services. So, we're not sure what the future holds."

And just like that, neither the bus staff nor the passengers seemed quite content with the pink bus.

When I finally got off the bus after a one and a half hour ride, I couldn't help but wonder if this would be my one and only journey on a pink bus ever.