What better way to celebrate Women’s day than with women friends. On March 8th, five of us decided to explore Old Dhaka- that part of town steeped in History. One friend proposed the trip and oiled the engine to get it going and her friend (who I did not know prior to the trip), agreed to play guide.
So, on a sunny Friday morning, we drove out of the ramparts of the protected expat area in which we reside, in two cars, to explore the city. Friday being the weekend here is when there’s generally a lull in the traffic which is important to consider in a country known for its nightmarish traffic jams. However, what we had not accounted for, is that March 8th was the last Friday before Ramadan (the Holy month of fasting for Muslims). We had little idea what we were in for until we were ‘stuck’ with vehicles all around us unable to budge. It was the ultimate test of friendship- the blazing sun over us (it’s hard to believe it’s the beginning of spring), dusty streets, teeming crowds and endless, unorganized, honking traffic! It prevented us from seeing everything that we had chalked out on our itinerary and yet, we managed to laugh and pose and have a good time.
There was nothing glamorous about the day- our feet ached by the end of it and we wanted to be back in our expat cocoon, but it was one of the most memorable days I’ve had since I came to this city. That doesn’t mean I’m going to go back again soon. Remember, I said ‘memorable’. But when the memories wear off a little and the weather is better, I might just, to see the things that I missed seeing this time around.

Returning to the trip, we started our journey to Lal Bagh at around 9.20 a.m. Lal Bagh, historically known as Fort Aurangazeb, literally means ‘Red Garden’, symbolic of the red stone that the fort is built with, and the sprawling gardens , which are an essential feature of all Mughal architecture.
The construction of the fort was started by the son of Emperor Aurangzeb (son of Shah Jahan – the Mughal ruler, who built the Taj Mahal in memory of his wife, Mumtaz Mahal). The construction of the Lal Bagh fort was assigned to his general, Shaista Khan, when Aurangzeb called his son to return to Delhi. However, the construction was never completed as Shaista Khan’s daughter died, and he considered the fort unlucky. He buried his daughter inside the fort.

Unlike other cities where historical landmarks of such significance stand aloof from the rest of the city, residential buildings surround the Lal Bagh fort in Dhaka. Imagine waking up to a historical monument of this stature every day of your life. Well, that’s exactly how it is for those whose windows overlook the fort.

The tickets to enter the grounds is 200 Taka for residents of SAARC countries and 400 Taka for foreigners. I found it strange that there were no photographers or guides around offering their services in a place of such historical significance.

The symmetry of the construction (which Mughal architecture is known for) catches your eye as soon as you step into the area – a cement walkway leads to the fort with well-tended lawns on either side. The Diwan-i-aam, Pari bibi’s tomb and the mosque constitute the fort. There’s not much to see as one is not allowed inside the buildings.

We walked the grounds, climbed up to the top to get an aerial view of the fort and the grounds, admired the flowers, posed, and took loads of photographs.

We left Lal Bagh at around 11.15 a.m. Happy with how it had gone, we made our way to Sadarghat, Dhaka’s major river port on the Buriganga river, the next stop on our itinerary. That’s when the traffic hit us and we realized we had chosen the wrong day ( weekend before Ramadan) for the trip. It took us forty-five minutes to reach the place that was supposedly fifteen minutes away. Never mind the fact that we were stopped in between by the police for a routine check to verify the documents for the car and the driver’s license.

With the car unable to move forward, we decided to step out of the car when we were close enough to Sadarghat, and brave the streets.

Warning : The photograph above does not tell all. It does not tell of the stench emanating from the river that even my friend whose sense of smell was taken away by Covid could smell; the hundreds of people around us on the bridge in buses, cycle rickshaws, walking or some form of ancient transportation system; the thousands below us busy in the business of buying, selling and delivering fruit. If it sounds chaotic, it’s because it is- everyone seems to be in such a hurry to get somewhere – when all they are doing is buying and selling fruit. This was the thought that crossed my mind. Where were they all running to?

But as we made our way down the bridge and through the street, the reason became clear. Those running to ships that had been offloaded were rushing to bid for boxes, those running with boxes on their heads were delivering it to retailers who had bought it from the wholesalers or taking the auctioned fruit from the truck to the wholesale shop and those at the wholesale store were bargaining to get the best price from the wholesalers. We were at the heart of where all the trading of fruit happens.

In case my words or photographs fail to paint an accurate picture of what the experience was truly like, here’s a video that will leave you gobsmacked.

Exiting the street, we made our way to the wharf. Thankfully, it was far less crowded then the street. A few fruit vendors sat with baskets of fruit for sale- allowing passengers travelling by the car ferries to buy fruit on the go. It was cooler on the wharf as the cruise ships acted as a shield from the sun.

10% of Bangladesh’s land area is water in the form of rivers. River transportation is an important mode of transportation here and people use it to travel between districts. It’s cheaper than land transport. In the cruise above, the lower deck is like a vacant hall. Passengers get their own mats to lie or sit on and snacks and travel to their destination. The middle deck has cabins with bunk beds and the top deck has VIP rooms (as told to us by my friend’s friend).

That the Buriganga river plays an important part in the life of the people here is obvious from the different types of boats/ships that dot the river and the activity that goes on around it.

We stepped back onto the main road from the wharf at the end of it to head to Beauty Boarding, the restaurant, where we were to have lunch. It’s a historical centre where intellectuals gathered. Before the partition (1947), it was where the office of the first newspaper, ‘Shonar Bangla’ was housed. When it moved to Kolkata in India, the building was rented out by a neighbor who coverted it into a hotel and restaurant. If you’re wondering (like me) why such a frivolous name was given for a place of such significance, it’s because the neighbour’s daughter’s name was ‘Beauty’. He named it after his daughter.

‘Beauty Boarding’ felt like an oasis in the middle of a desert – a two-storey yellow building with green windows, and a central courtyard surrounded by trees, it’s perfect for the tired traveller.

The lunch at the restaurant exceeded our expectations. I had decided not to eat but I ended up enjoying the simple meal of rice, dal (lentil soup), mixed vegetable subzi (raw papaya, pumpkin and potato), tomato chutney, brinjal burtha (I didn’t try it but my friends did and they loved it) and misthi doi (sweetened yoghurt) for dessert.

After lunch, we decided to walk back to the car through the inner lanes which were relatively less crowded. The maze of lanes each housed a market selling a particular category of things – textiles, books, brass items etc and each lane had a separate name: Babu bazaar, Bangla Bazaar, Naya Bazaar and Shankari Bazaar. Shankari bazaar is the Hindu bazaar which was the centre of shankar art historically (the art of making jewellery out of conch shells). It’s amazing how the fragrance of incense sticks, marigolds, ghee used to make sweets trickles through as you turn into the lane leading to Shankari bazaar. This, despite the fact that a restaurant selling biryani stands just outside the entrance of the bazaar. The two aromas mingle in harmony representing the flavours of Bangladesh and the peace between the two faiths.

We walked past textile shops on which colorful sarees with painted butterflies and dancing girls hung at the entrance showing the current flavor, but exhausted as we were, we didn’t click any more photographs or bother to shop.

That was the end of our Dhaka walking tour. We were happy to hit the main road that led home after being ‘stuck’ in the car for an hour after getting in. Although tired, our spirits were rejuvenated and our bonds stronger , we had taken the first step to stepping out of our comfort zone, and we had survived it all …together. It reminds me of what the Chinese philosopher, Lao Tzu, said, ‘The journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.’ Here’s hoping this is the beginning of many more adventures with the friends I’ve made here.

I hope you enjoyed the walk and breathed the dust with us.
This post has been written for Jo’s Monday walk challenge.

I wish all the beautiful, smart, talented, kind women reading this post, a ‘Happy Women’s Day’. You make the world a better place because of all that you do.

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