Mirpur's 60 Feet Road: A Journey of Life, Laughter, and Survival

Miad Hossain
When it comes to Dhaka’s roads, complaints are abundant, but Mirpur’s 60 Feet Road stand in a league of its own. This is not just a road—it’s an experience, a therapy session, and sometimes, even a revolution. Especially if you are seven to eight months pregnant, traveling on this road by rickshaw might make your trip to the hospital unnecessary altogether.
Mirpur’s 60 Feet Road is a unique combination of adventure, endurance, and unpredictability. Each pothole on this road doesn’t just shake your vehicle—it shakes your body, mind, and patience.

If a pregnant woman dares to take a rickshaw ride on this road, she may find herself skipping the hospital altogether. The first pothole is enough to trigger “natural” responses in the body. By the second pothole, she might feel, “Is it time already?” And by the third, it’s almost certain—delivery might just happen right here, for free!

Take, for instance, the story of a couple on their way to the hospital. The wife was heavily pregnant, and the husband took her on a rickshaw. The rickshaw hit the first pothole, and she shouted, “I think the baby is coming!” The husband, in a mix of humor and panic, responded, “Why go to the hospital? Looks like we’ll be parents right here on 60 Feet!”

Every single pothole on this road has a story to tell. Riding down the 60 Feet Road is not just a commute; it’s a journey filled with surprises. The first pothole makes you feel like life is testing your resilience. The second pushes you to your limits. By the third, you start questioning everything, including your decision to take this route.

It’s not just pregnant women who experience the thrill. A middle-aged man commuting to work by a van had all his documents fly off in different directions when the vehicle hit the first pothole. With a wry smile, he said, “This isn’t just a pothole; it’s a tornado!” To which a young passenger beside him quipped, “No, sir, this is our Mirpur way of life!”

This road isn’t just a path; it’s a metaphor for life. For everyone—from expectant mothers to school children—it offers a lesson in survival.

One schoolboy traveling on a bus screamed with excitement when the bus hit a giant pothole, saying, “It feels like a free-fall ride at an amusement park!” His friend replied, “If we get lost in the dust of this road during a school trip, it’ll probably make headlines!”

The residents of Mirpur have become so accustomed to the 60 Feet Road that they’ve developed a sense of humor about it. Locals often joke, “Before stepping on this road, memorize the number of your nearest hospital. And if you’re pregnant, just sit tight—it might all be over soon.”

Some even call it a “place of entertainment.” A resident remarked, “With so few amusement parks in Dhaka, Mirpur’s 60 Feet Road remind us that laughter doesn’t cost a dime.”

Scientists are beginning to see the 60 Feet Road as a potential research field. According to them, traveling on this road provides such a unique form of physical exercise that it could be labeled as “natural physiotherapy.” The road’s potholes stimulate every muscle in the body, leaving riders with a mix of pain and enlightenment.

What if the government declared Mirpur’s 60 Feet Road as a “Natural Delivery Zone”? It could revolutionize the healthcare system. Pregnant women could skip expensive hospital visits, and a few roadside clinics could cater to any emergencies. The potholes would do their job, and the clinics would handle the rest.

Mirpur’s 60 Feet Road is more than just a road; it’s a symbol of resilience, humor, and adaptability. The people of Mirpur embrace its challenges with smiles and stories.

If you ever travel down the 60 Feet Road, remember—it’s not just a route; it’s an adventure. For pregnant women, it’s a natural delivery ward. For everyone else, it’s a life lesson wrapped in bumps, dust, and laughter. Each pothole is more than a hole in the ground; it’s a story, a feeling, and a testament to the indomitable spirit of Mirpur’s residents.