The romantic affairs of local buses on Dhaka streets

Ah, the streets of Dhaka — a city of endless vibrancy, chaos, and, apparently, the most intense love affairs you will ever witness. Not among humans, of course, but between the local buses.

If you have ever been stuck in traffic (a rite of passage in Dhaka), you have undoubtedly seen them engaging in their peculiar courtship rituals — sideswiping, rear-ending, and occasionally outright bulldozing. With their battered bodies, shattered headlights, broken windows, and exposed backs, these buses look like star-crossed lovers.

They cannot seem to keep their hands — or rather, bumpers — off each other. It is almost poetic how they glide down the congested streets, brushing against each other in a flurry of sparks and paint chips. Unfortunately, this "romance" does not end with a kiss but often with street brawls, roadblocks, and, tragically, innocent bystanders caught in the crossfire.

Love hurts (and sometimes amputates)

The passionate tango of Dhaka's buses is a romance so intense it could make Romeo and Juliet look like a mild case of puppy love. Who knew that the city's public transport could be so... hands-on? In 2016, a final-year English student at Dhaka College learnt that love can be painful — especially when it involves two buses in a heated competition for the title "Most Dramatic Overtake." Spoiler alert: he lost a hand.

Fast-forward to 2018, and we meet Rajib, a third-year student from Government Titumir College who unwittingly becomes entangled in this chaotic vehicular love triangle.

Imagine the scene: a BRTC double-decker, basking in the glory of its own grandeur, takes a moment to rest while a lovesick rival, fuelled by an insatiable desire, attempts a reckless flirtation with the double-decker's rear end. In this high-stakes game of automotive affection, Rajib became the unfortunate collateral damage, his hand caught in the tumultuous embrace of these two lovestruck buses. 

It dangled there, a grim testament to the menaces of unrequited love and a stark reminder that perhaps it's time to intervene in this toxic relationship before more limbs are lost to the whims of Dhaka's transport drama.

In the resonant clutter of the city, office-goers hang onto the door frames of overcrowded buses. Safety? That's for the cautious! But amidst the hustle and bustle, there is always the possibility of a bus romance. Who knows? You might find yourself caught in a dramatic lover's spat that rivals any soap opera, where the stakes are high and emotions run even higher. 

Picture this: a bus swerving too close, not just scratching the paint but leaving a far more dramatic mark. But really, what's a missing limb or two when you are swept up in the fiery passion of Dhaka's transport scene? After all, isn't love all about sacrifice? Buckle up because every ride could become an unforgettable story in this city whirlwind!

The economics of love: A deadly romance on wheels

The roots of this deadly romance intertwine with the harsh realities of economics. These daredevil drivers are thrust into a cutthroat competition for fares while grappling with a system of low variable wages that turns their daily earnings into a high-stakes game of "Guess Who Wants a Ride?"

Imagine a salary that can swing from a meagre Tk800 to a jaw-dropping Tk3,000, depending on their uncanny ability to read the minds of potential passengers. Forget about those mundane, predictable wages; this is more akin to a daily lottery, where the jackpot is a few extra bucks and a hefty dose of adrenaline! 

In this asphalt arena, every passenger is a ticket to survival, transforming each driver into a gladiator battling for their livelihood. The secret to success? Cram as many passengers as humanly possible into their vehicles — because who needs safety when there are fares to chase? It's a numbers game; the more bodies they can fit in, the fatter their wallets become.

The result? Buses that drive like caffeinated teenagers on a first date—reckless, desperate, and utterly disastrous. 

Now, throw in a gruelling 12–14-hour workday and you have a recipe for chaos. Add a dash of intoxication, because how else can one cope with the madness of navigating Dhaka's traffic for that long? These drivers are like overworked romantics, running on fumes, frustration, and a cocktail of "smoky courage." Every day is a gamble in this wild ride of love and survival, and the stakes couldn't be higher! 

And the local buses are not content with loving just one rival; they also engage with rickshaws, pedestrians, and, more interestingly, CNGs and private cars in their complex love triangles. These innocent third parties often become collateral damage in the great "Dhaka Bus Love Saga." Some lose side mirrors, while others lose their lives.

The solution: A breakup, maybe?

Perhaps it is time to counsel these amorous buses to breathe and cool off. It is high time we enforce stricter regulations, ensure humane working conditions, and implement proper vehicle maintenance. After all, these buses should be focused on their primary job: transporting people safely, not turning the streets of Dhaka into a twisted soap opera filled with drama and reckless abandon. 

Until that day comes, Dhaka residents will continue to witness the romantic escapades of these metallic beasts, careening through the city like star-crossed lovers in a tragic comedy. 

If only this fervent passion could be channelled into safer, more efficient transportation! But alas, in Dhaka, love truly hurts — especially when it comes with a side of road rage and a dash of chaos.

Let's hope for a breakup from this reckless romance, and we can pave the way for a more harmonious relationship between drivers, passengers, and the roads they traverse. After all, in Dhaka's public transport, it is time to swap the drama for a little more safety and a lot less heartbreak.

Shafiq R Bhuiyan is the Vice President of Communication and CSR at BRAC Bank PLC.

Disclaimer: The views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the opinions and views of The Business Standard.