Each morning in West Bengal’s Howrah, even before the city fully wakes up, a bus pulls out onto its route with a silent determination. And standing on the footboard, her saree neatly tucked in, voice ringing out “Dharmatala, Dharmatala”, is 58-year-old Dolly Rana — a ‘lady’ bus conductor. Yes, you read that right.

But long before she began collecting fares and shouting out stops, Dolly was a daughter with a promise to keep. Her father had always dreamt of owning a bus. It wasn’t a grand ambition, just a simple dream rooted in dignity and hard work. After he passed away, Dolly, determined to fulfil that wish, took out loans to buy one herself.

What followed wasn’t the financial breakthrough she had hoped for, but a tide of challenges. The household began crumbling under the weight of debt. But rather than sell the bus or retreat into despair, Dolly made a choice few would expect — she decided to run it herself. Not from behind the scenes, but from the frontlines, as the conductor.