Aubaid Ahmad Akhoon
Every journey has a purpose; every road has a price
What comes for free can sometimes cost the most.
A few months ago, the Jammu and Kashmir government launched a much-talked-about free bus service for women — a move that many celebrated as progressive and empowering. For a region where mobility and safety for women have always been important issues, this step was seen as a milestone. However, like many well-intentioned welfare schemes, this one too deserves a closer look to understand its ground reality and long-term impact.
A personal experience
As a regular commuter who has mostly relied on government buses, I have always appreciated their relatively better service and comfort, even if the fare was slightly higher than that of local minibuses. After a tiring day at work, a guaranteed seat and a smoother ride make all the difference.
But since the introduction of the free bus service for women, this comfort has become rare. The buses are now packed beyond capacity. Finding a seat is next to impossible — and when a woman is seen standing, any man with a conscience feels morally compelled to vacate his seat.
What’s more, many of the new users are employed women with decent salaries who previously used their own vehicles but now naturally prefer the free ride. As a result, the system is overloaded, leaving genuinely needy passengers — daily wage workers, students, the elderly — struggling for space and comfort.
Who benefits the most?
While the aim was to support women who need financial relief, the reality is that the biggest beneficiaries are salaried employees and middle-class commuters who can easily afford the fare. Meanwhile, women in remote areas or those who depend on local shared transport have seen little to no benefit, because government buses do not cover every village or interior route.
More pressure, less productivity
In many government offices and institutions, it’s now common to see women employees arriving late more often. Overcrowded buses, unpredictable schedules, and over-reliance on the free service have made punctuality suffer. This unspoken cost — reduced productivity — is hardly ever discussed when we talk about the success of such welfare schemes.
Financial burden on the transport department
Free travel does not mean free service. Operational costs — fuel, maintenance, staff salaries — remain unchanged or even increase due to higher usage. The revenue loss has to be covered somehow — and it usually comes from taxpayers’ money or by cutting funds from other areas in need. Over time, this can burden an already stretched transport department, leading to poorer services for everyone.
What could be better?
Nobody questions the intention behind the scheme. Women’s safety and mobility must be strengthened. But we must also ask: Is this the most effective way? Instead of completely free rides, a subsidized fare could have ensured affordability without draining the department’s finances. Or perhaps the same money could have been used to improve bus frequency, extend routes to remote areas, or invest in better infrastructure.
Some even argue that spending on uninterrupted power supply or subsidies for essential household items would benefit entire families, not just a segment of daily commuters.
Bottom line
Good governance is not just about launching popular schemes — it is about listening, observing, and course-correcting. Any welfare programme must evolve with honest feedback from the people it affects the most. Free bus travel might bring smiles today, but unchecked overcrowding, financial stress, and poor service tomorrow can wipe them out. Because in the end, everything comes at a cost — nothing is truly free. The price might not show up in the bus fare, but it surely appears elsewhere — in quality, efficiency, or sustainability.
The real measure of progress is not how much we can give away for free, but how wisely we spend public money so that relief reaches those who truly need it — without overburdening systems or compromising on quality. The same money could have improved bus frequency, extended routes to far-flung areas, or supported subsidies on electricity or household essentials — benefiting entire families, not just daily commuters.
In the end, a welfare state must strike a balance: thoughtful intentions must meet practical, sustainable execution. Only then can we call it real empowerment.
The comfort that comes for free often hides a heavier cost.
(The author is a distinguished columnist, motivational speaker and can be reached at [email protected])
