TAQWA SHAFI
SRINAGAR, Feb 21: The gentle, almost whispering hum of electric buses gliding through Srinagar’s bustling streets has become the newest sound of change in the city. Painted in bright hues and fitted with modern amenities, these zero-emission vehicles are more than just a mode of transport—they are a symbol of Srinagar’s leap into a cleaner, smarter urban future.
Launched under Srinagar Smart City Limited as part of the nationwide Smart Cities Mission, the e-buses promise eco-friendly mobility, enhanced passenger safety, and, most significantly, free rides for women. For commuters, especially women, the initiative has been nothing short of transformative. But for hundreds of traditional minibus operators who have long formed the backbone of Srinagar’s public transport system, the arrival of these electric buses has triggered a growing sense of uncertainty—and distress.
At Batamaloo, A Silent Struggle
At the sprawling Batamaloo bus stand, once alive with the hurried calls of conductors and the steady churn of diesel engines, a different picture is emerging. Rows of ageing minibuses sit idling longer than usual, their drivers scanning the thinning crowds for passengers.
For Ghulam Nabi, a veteran driver who has ferried passengers along the Hazratbal–Lal Chowk route for over two decades, the shift has been stark.
“Women used to make up nearly half of my passengers,” he says, leaning against his weathered vehicle. “Now most of them prefer the electric bus. It’s free, it’s comfortable, and it’s new. My daily income has dropped by nearly 40 percent.”
The financial strain is immediate and unforgiving. Rising diesel prices, routine maintenance costs, and loan repayments have turned into mounting pressures. “We are not against development,” Nabi insists, his voice carrying both resignation and frustration. “But development should not push us into hunger. How do we survive if our buses run half empty?”
His concern is echoed across the stand. Bashir Ahmad, another operator, describes the competition as uneven. “Government buses have subsidies, modern facilities, and publicity. We depend only on passenger fares. If commuters shift entirely, we have nothing to fall back on.”
Transport union representatives warn that if the trend continues unchecked, many operators may be forced to sell their vehicles. “This sector feeds hundreds of families,” says a union member. “Without some support or integration into the new system, traditional operators could disappear.”
A Welcome Change for Women
For women commuters, however, the electric buses have opened new doors.
Shazia, a university student, says the daily savings are significant. “I save around fifty rupees every day. For a student, that matters. It helps with books, meals, and other expenses. And I feel safer. There are CCTV cameras, proper seating, and the environment is more respectful.”
Working women share similar sentiments. Rubeena, an Anganwadi worker, says the free service has eased her household burden. “Earlier, even small trips meant calculating the fare. Now I travel without that worry. The money I save goes toward groceries or my children’s needs.”
The buses, equipped with CCTV surveillance, GPS tracking systems, and low-floor access for the elderly and persons with disabilities, have raised the standard of public transport in the city. The promise of safer, inclusive, and environmentally sustainable travel has resonated strongly with commuters.
The Official Stand
Officials associated with the Smart City initiative maintain that the project’s broader goal is to modernise urban mobility while reducing carbon emissions and promoting social inclusion.
“The idea is to make public transport accessible and sustainable,” says an official who requested anonymity. “Free travel for women encourages greater participation in education and employment. Cleaner buses mean cleaner air for everyone.”
Indeed, Srinagar’s air quality and traffic congestion have long been areas of concern. The electric fleet is seen as a step toward addressing both.
Between Progress and Livelihood
Yet, the larger question remains: can modernisation coexist with the survival of traditional operators?
Transport unions argue that integration—not replacement—should be the way forward. Suggestions include route rationalisation, financial subsidies, or incorporating private operators into the electric mobility framework. “We are ready to adapt,” says a union representative. “But we need policy support. Otherwise, families dependent on this trade will suffer.”
For now, Srinagar’s roads present a tale of two systems running parallel. On one side, sleek electric buses symbolise aspiration, sustainability, and inclusivity. On the other, ageing diesel minibuses represent decades of service—and livelihoods hanging in the balance.
As dusk settles over the city, a nearly full electric bus quietly pulls away from a crowded stop. A few metres behind, a traditional minibus waits a little longer, its driver hoping for enough passengers to make the day worthwhile.
Srinagar’s journey toward becoming a “smart” city is undeniably underway. For commuters, especially women, the road ahead looks brighter and more affordable. But for those who have long steered the city’s public transport, the path forward remains uncertain—shadowed by questions of survival in the face of progress.
