What does driving in Dhaka feel like?

"If you can drive in Dhaka, you can drive anywhere in the world" – the statement gets casually thrown about when talking about driving in this city. This special "licence" is earned when you've mastered the unruly roads of Dhaka and its next-to-impossible traffic.

It's one thing if you're stuck in the congestion as a passenger – horrible as it is – but it's quite another if you are the one driving! Those of us who don't have a chauffeur and have chosen to drive our own cars are a breed apart.

Why wouldn't we be? Unlike chauffeurs or professional drivers, driving is not our occupation and yet it is a whole lot of work. Moreover, where else can you attain such a high level of patience? What self-help seminar shall impart you with such rich insights on anger management and how to have steady nerves?

Dhaka is an impatient city. Everybody is in a rush. It is a city that can be cruel, rude, spiteful, and selfish, and so in a way, the traffic condition is a perfect embodiment of Dhaka!

Two buses from both sides shall closely slide past your car, leaving you helpless in between. They will also stop in the middle of the road whenever they want, to take more passengers. Many vehicles will change lanes abruptly without any warning whatsoever; the concept of using the indicator sign is alien to them. Rickshaws shall take their own sweet time to get out of your way. Jaywalkers will cross roads freely, totally ignoring traffic lights and foot-bridges while commanding you to stop by lifting a finger as if they are giving a speech. Swarms of bikers will snake their way around your car in a rush, with no regard for their lives or your own.

I remember, when my father was teaching me how to drive, he always used to say, "Assume that everyone in the road is mad. As the only sane driver, it is upon you to reach safety, protecting both yourself and others on the way."   

And hence sanity I keep.

But my car does not betray me. The steering wheel has tolerated extreme turns. The wheels have endured many potholes and bumps. The side-mirrors and bumpers have survived quite a few injuries. And the brakes are ever-ready to put the car to a halt at a moment's notice.   

So, with my loyal and proven car, I drive through the city.

Driving is supposed to be fun, even therapeutic. But in Dhaka, it's work, a very demanding chore indeed.