I had to explain why this bus was such a big deal, and such a significant part of our daily lives to the Gen Zs and Aplhas in the family recently.

A journey on this notorious Bas Mini – through the streets of Kuala Lumpur was sometimes worse than a roller-coaster ride.

It was organised chaos, danger, disorder, and community spirit all wrapped in one package.

The commission-based earnings saw conductors – sometimes boisterous women – screaming masuk dalam! masuk dalam! (move in further), although the bus may already be way past its maximum capacity.

They would usually stand by the single entrance to prevent scrawny passengers from flying out the door whenever the drivers took a ‘konar baring’ (sharp bend)

The rowdy bus drivers would tear down the street, and race with contemporaries in the next lane to beat the traffic light and pick-up passengers at the next stop.

They’d make illegal detours and veer off the original route to avoid traffic jams – a blessing for passengers hoping to reach their destinations on time, but a nightmare for those waiting in stops along the original route.

There were unspoken rules and a sense of camaraderie amongst the passengers. The bigger sized ones would stand by the doors to prevent flyaways when the conductors were busy, and if you knew the driver-conductor team well enough, unscheduled stops off the designated bus stops were a possibility.

Security concerns and harassment of passengers in these buses were rare, simply because everyone feared the conductors who ruled their domain with an iron fist!

These buses were phased out in the late 1990s. Bigger and more comfortable air-conditioned buses replaced them.

But I won’t deny missing the thrill of riding in one of these petite contraptions, also known as the ‘pink lady’ or BMWs (Bas Mini Wilayah) on the streets of Kuala Lumpur.