I first learnt about secret parties in the South Asian metropolis of Dhaka back in June while hosting a discussion on nightlife activism around Asia. Hearing how artists endure so many obstacles in a traditionalist society felt relevant at a time when promoters across the globe are forced to find safe and innovative ways to keep the speakers blaring. Thus began this dive into the grassroots spirit of Dhaka raves.

The sprawling city, one of the world's most densely populated areas, is home to some venues that support ambient and experimental acts, but there's no formal establishment for DJs to play house, techno or bass music. "If you want to hear that, you have to plan your own event," said Taiara Farhana Tareque, a gallerist, writer and artist who runs a creative space called Studio 6/6 out of her family home. One exception is psytrance, a genre that originated in Goa during the 1990s and continues to thrive in Bangladesh through the outdoor festival Psymongol. For other 4/4 styles, organisers in Dhaka hold ticketed, invite-only nights wherever they can—residential homes, art spaces, restaurants and hotels.

One of them is Farmhaus, a collective focused on deep tech and progressive strains. Launched in 2017, the Farmhaus name, explained cofounder Tonmoy Dg, comes from its first location: a friend's farmhouse on the outskirts of the city. Their parties have gone until sunrise with crowds capped at 200 people. Farmhaus also rents out commercial venues when possible—in February, before the pandemic hit, they brought in Sebastien Leger to play at a private recreation facility. "Organizing is generally a huge challenge as we don't have proper infrastructure," said Tonmoy Dg.

Studio 6/6, meanwhile, started hosting dance nights earlier this year in collaboration with karkhana, a crew of DJs, sound artists and audiophiles. The studio's narrow hallway, usually reserved for art exhibitions and workshops, offers a more intimate experience with the number of attendees kept below 100. "We never want to emulate Berghain," said মm., a DJ, community organiser and founding member of karkhana. "We want to explore techno the way it's evolved in different geographies, whether it's Tzusing or Deena Abdelwahed." They said many people who had never heard techno before showed up to the last gig in March.

The exterior of Studio 6/6

Locals say these under-the-radar gatherings operate in a legal grey zone and require a great deal of secrecy to ensure the safety of patrons. That's because Bangladesh is a socially conservative nation where perceptions of nightclubs are predominantly negative. Same-sex relations are a criminal offence and there are multiple reports of authorities raiding private gatherings to detain and arrest people suspected of being gay, according to Human Rights Watch. Only establishments with a license can sell alcohol, and most Bangladeshis require a permit to purchase and carry liquor.

"If the cops came, they would make a fuss about the loud music, how people are dressed, and why men and women are gathered together at night," explained Sakib Tonmoy, a DJ and karkhana cofounder. "If right-wing factions of society found out that parties were happening behind closed doors, they'd make life difficult for everyone." In a report released late last year, the World Economic Forum said that while Bangladesh has closed 72.6 percent of its overall gender gap, it still has "considerable room to bolster basic rights of women and improve their economic and political prospects." Gender-based violence and harassment also remain common, as this World Bank study recently found.

It's common for crews to keep a wad of cash on hand just in case they need to pay off police. "I usually try to keep what I can, somewhere between 5,000 to 10,000 taka [$60 to $120 USD]," said মm,"but it depends on how much we can pool together and the risks of the event."

Since gigs can't be publicly advertised, there's little opportunity for events to grow in scale. The Farmhaus community expands organically through word-of-mouth and references, noted Tonmoy Dg. "Our followers, the Farmhaus Family, are a well-knit group," he said, "and while we get new fans through each event, we have a last call on the final guest list."

For Studio 6/6, a queer-friendly space, there's no question of changing the invite-only model. "We have people dancing close together," said মm, "women often dressing in ways that they wouldn't outside and people who visibly appear queer, so there's a lot of harassment that could happen if the cops showed up."

Thankfully, Studio 6/6's location in the central neighborhood of Mohammadpur, which Taiara describes as the ghetto side of Dhaka, bodes well for privacy. "We're right across from a big bazaar, thousands of people walk past my front door in a day. Being in such a busy area gives us a big advantage because it hides the noise inside," Taiara described with a laugh. "We just blend into the crazy market culture around us. Still, we always cover up the windows and keep it as dark as possible so the house goes unnoticed."

Techno party at Studio 6/6 in March 2020

This need for privacy makes underground dance culture in Dhaka relatively exclusive and inaccessible to most Bangladeshis. That's what karkhana hopes to change by incrementally lowering the barriers to entry. Its ticket prices never cross 300 taka [$3.50 USD] while events also kick off early in the evenings to ensure women from all walks of life can attend. "Curfews are a common problem women face," according to মm. "Even single women who live independently from families often face restrictive curfews from hostels and landlords," they said.

In South Asia, Dhaka's scene bears the most similarities to neighboring Pakistan. Promoters in Karachi, the nation's largest city, also use creative problem-solving to overcome a scarcity of venues and security risks.

Rudoh, a producer and cofounder of Karachi record label Foreversouth, said he's done shows everywhere from banquet halls to art galleries to cigar clubs. "There were times my partner and I would just drive around the city to scope spots," he said. "We would look at places that would be sick for gigs and then find a way to get that spot." One location was an abandoned house, "where we had to bribe the gatekeeper to use it for a night."

"Nine out of ten times, the logistical costs of putting everything together comes out of our own pockets and we just hope to break even with ticket sales," added Alien Panda Jury, another producer in Karachi who organises a party called Oscillations.

The difficulties of planning gigs in Bangladesh and Pakistan means limited performance opportunities for local artists. That's what Bangkok resident Sameer Arshad hopes to fix through soundistan, a night he launched in the Thai capital two years ago that books regional acts who are in need of gigs. DJing at a proper club to an engaged crowd not only "helps fuel the artists' spirit and motivation back at home," it strengthens the sense of community in the Asian underground, said Arshad, who is in the midst of launching a new record label with Karachi's Rudoh.

Akaliko Records at the Dhaka Art Summit

Back in Bangladesh, many hope that deeper ties with global creatives can help drive electronic culture. The annual Dhaka Art Summit (DAS), for instance, draws a steady stream of international visitors and has strengthened the city's clout through events with live acts and DJs. If more forward-thinking ventures bring in tourism, that could potentially push the government to loosen its stance on nightlife—officials are already considering issuing more bar licences, local news recently reported. But many believe bureaucracy and weak policy-making remain major obstacles. "What we lack is the focus of the government as they are still struggling to figure out why Bangladesh receives one of the lowest numbers of tourists per capita in the world," said Khan Mohammad Faisal, founder of experimental imprint Akaliko Records, which works closely with DAS.

The impact of tourism on the underground scene is clearly visible in Nepal, one of South Asia's smaller countries. Thanks to strong visitor numbers, parties have increased over the past five to seven years, noted Rishavh Shrestha, cofounder of bookings and events agency Spektrum. Kathmandu, the capital, has a handful of big clubs, small-scale restaurants and bars that mostly play commercial tunes, but there's one venue—Club 25 Hours—that accommodates leftfield house, techno, disco, breaks and bass, added producer YNZN.P and DJ Dipsoman.

Still, the mood on the ground in Dhaka feels optimistic even as COVID-19 and heavy floods weigh on Bangladesh's economy. More than 5,000 people have died from coronavirus as of September 23rd, but some businesses in Dhaka are slowly reopening, including the family-friendly live music venue Jatra Biroti. The arts and music scene strives to maintain pre-pandemic momentum through streams and other online gigs such as virtual open mic nights by 3rd Space, which has put on a variety of cultural events from salsa nights to live bands. 3rd Space has previously hosted private DJs but its own electronic nights are focused on lo-fi beats or the avant-garde, according to founder Muttaki Mahmud.

"We're working towards reaching a point where it's socially acceptable in Dhaka to go out dancing at night in a wholesome environment like ours," he said. "There's this misconception that nightlife is associated with alcohol or drugs. We're trying to show the public that nightlife is just music and community."