Fighting for Space

Free rides were meant to open doors for women. Instead, daily commutes have become a test of endurance, patience, and courage

- Syed Mohammad Burhan

At 8:30 every morning, Rafia stands near Lal Chowk, a central square in Srinagar, watching the familiar line of Smart City buses roll in

Her schoolbag hangs over one shoulder, her eyes flitting across the crowd, calculating the odds of squeezing in without confrontation.

The air, already heavy with humidity, seems to pulse with tension as commuters press closer.

The bus doors open. A wave of bodies surges forward. She steps in, arms close to her sides, gripping her bag as though it’s a shield.

The smell of sweat rises, voices murmur.

Today, a man mutters something about women “taking over” the bus. Rafia stiffens, her face unreadable.

She learned early on that survival meant looking past these remarks.

Rafia is not alone. Her story has become part of a larger narrative unfolding in Srinagar, a city where public transport once symbolized despair for women and now, after a bold government move, has become an arena of cultural friction.

In April this year, the local government waived bus fares for women, a decision hailed as progressive. The idea was simple: free travel would empower women to pursue education, jobs, and social engagement.

At first, the change felt empowering. Saima, 23, a graduate student, recalled how the new buses were a relief. “Before, | avoided buses,” she said. “The old public transport was filthy, unsafe. You never knew what to expect.”

For the first time, she felt a sense of control over her commute.