Active volcano!
Withdrawing scripts from the National University, Gazipur, I reached Chandura to catch a Lalpur bound bus. The bulky bag limited my movement and peace of mind. Anxiety to have a bus and concern for the safety of the bag and inexperience led me to fall into the trap of the ticket middleman. They took from me the money in full but I found myself in the lowest class of bus. The crammed bus was always uncouthly noisy with constant haggling of the conductors over the fairs. A passenger was also beaten in the counter but the weak labourers could not protest it. The years of hard labour, low payment and humiliation has made them expendable. The rough appearance of the labourers speak volumes of their abject condition. Lack of education, consciousness has prevented them from making the best use of their minimum means. The bus we were travelling on presented us the worst kind of travelling experience. It halted frequently to board and onboard the passengers. Passengers swore and shouted at the conductors and the driver but to no avail. The reality is the money they get from the passengers is very little. While good buses charge 300 taka for travelling from Dhaka to Rajshahi, this dilapidated buses take only 100, 80 or even only 50 taka from a passenger.
On 21 June 2010, I went again to National University to attend a workshop on computerization of admission process. I came to Chandura by local bus. The coarse looking seats and passengers got on my nerves. Besides, all along the way I saw hundreds of tall garment factories but I could hardly notice a gentle and suave family life. The past bitter experience made me wise enough to book a seat in a Sonny AC bus. I came to know that the bus would take a long time to come to Chandura because garment workers were locked in clashes with the police in Ashulia. About 20/25 vehicles were damaged and the road was blocked. We were enjoying a World Cup football match on TV. But the electricity went off, leaving us in the sweltering heat. At long last, the 5.30 bus came in the evening. I got on the bus and found myself in a different realm. The suave passengers were sitting in the spacious seats, no haggling, and no swearing. As bags were kept in the covered cabins, there was no visual pollution. Passengers were enjoying drama serials on TV sets at the vantage point up the inside windscreen. Some passengers were talking on phones mildly or browsed Internet on their sell phones.
The journey was smooth with occasional breaks at the posh hotels for the refreshments of the passengers and the bus staff. I remember now which buses the poor labourers travel in and in which hotels they have refreshments. I get a shudder even at the remembrance of those cheap hotels and latrines. Then I see an anger brewing everywhere, I feel a volcano growling underneath my feet. But the power hungry people living in the posh areas are complacent about their condition without thinking that they are on a living volcano.
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