Dhaka’s public transport got a facelift after the metro rail service opened to the public. Commuters swear by its benefits, especially residents of Uttara, like me. Office-goers whose workplaces are in Motijheel or Karwan Bazar, students with early classes, or anyone trying to keep an appointment in the crowded lanes of old town; for them, it’s nothing less than a boon.
I have hardly ever availed public transport; maybe once or twice in my life. I always relied on pedal rickshaws or scooters until I got my first car. But recently, I decided to give my old dinosaur of a car a rest, to avoid being stuck in traffic chaos. Trust me, I’ve had my share of traffic debacles commuting from Uttara every day, for years at a stretch.
Recently, I needed to go to New Market for a not-so-important errand and decided to try Dhaka’s grand public transport -- the metro rail -- instead. From Uttara north to TSC, then a battery-driven trishaw to my destination, all done under an hour, and for much less than my octane bill. That ride and my experience was eye-opening and convinced me to use the rail a few more times to run errands all over the city.
I first took a ride on Dhaka’s metro rail soon after it was inaugurated, more out of curiosity than necessity and now, it has become more than a novelty. Living in Uttara, I’ve decided to use it for long-distance travel instead of relying on my car, which often feels like an old minibus struggling through traffic. I’ve already travelled to Gendaria for an assignment, to New Market for errands, and to Motijheel with my mother, who enjoyed a stop at Purbani Hotel for tea and chicken patties.
The metro rail has quickly become part of Dhaka’s daily rhythm. Its usefulness is appreciated by the people -- trains are packed to the brim from Uttara to Motijheel. Seats are easy to find if you start at the terminal in Uttara north, but getting tickets for a ride back is another matter. Even on holidays like Saturdays, getting one can feel like an impossible mission. That’s why Metro Cards are essential.
Queues are strictly maintained, and even if someone tries to bend the rules, fellow passengers won’t allow it. The stations themselves are impressive: neat, clean, and free of litter. The stations’ cleanliness deserves a special mention. Police and cleaning staff work meticulously, and for a city like Dhaka -- where keeping public spaces clean has always been a challenge -- this is remarkable.
Of course, not every ride is perfect. If you don’t get a seat, you’ll have to stand the whole way. But passengers are respectful -- no pushing, shoving, or fighting for seats. Even when the carriages are full, people keep to themselves.
Around some stations, especially near Dhaka University, the atmosphere changes. Vendors crowd the area, offering everything from beguni and piyaju to oyster mushroom tempura and daal puri. The variety reflects the vibrancy of the neighbourhood.
My cousin and brother, however, swear by it. For them, this is the model of modern transport in the city. Dhaka’s streets, no matter how wide or colourful, remain clogged with traffic despite flyovers, expressways, and overpasses. On days of processions or protests, it can be impossible to leave home. Sometimes, just getting from one sector of Uttara to another takes 45 minutes.
That’s why the metro rail feels like salvation. It’s my current favourite way to travel, not just for joyrides, but for real purposes -- errands, work, and family outings. It is, quite simply, the best mode of public transport in Dhaka today. Here’s to the metro rail, and here’s to Dhaka growing bigger and better by the day.
And here’s to Dhakaites like me abandoning private cars and their fake bourgeois lifestyles, in a city where traffic is always unpredictable.
