It was a long time ago, in the month of January, when I was traveling alone by train to Ludhiana. Winter had only just begun to set in, and I had left home at ten that night. Slowly, the fog began to thicken until I could no longer see anything around me. The fog was so dense that the express trains had been canceled. Only one passenger train was still running at night, arriving sometime between four and five in the morning.
I couldn't get a reservation on an express train, so I had to travel in a general coach. Whether you call it God's mercy or blame it on the winter, very few passengers were traveling in the general coach. I had to reach Ludhiana, and I was supposed to arrive there at five in the morning. But no one—especially an ordinary person like me—can ever know what fate has in store, when something unnatural will happen, or when the impossible suddenly becomes real. The train reached Jakhal Station at around twelve-thirty that night, and it usually stopped there for fifteen or sixteen minutes. That night, it stopped for fifteen minutes as well.
I got off, had some tea, bought a packet of biscuits, and began eating them with my tea. About five or ten minutes later, when I returned to my seat, I saw that I was the only person left traveling in the entire coach. It was completely empty. All the passengers who had been riding in the coach when I left home had gotten off at Jakhal Station or earlier. I was extremely frightened and in a state of complete panic.
What disturbed me was that I was the only one left in the coach, and I still had four or five hours of travel ahead of me. With about ten minutes left until one o'clock, the train started moving and soon picked up speed. I immediately got up and shut all the doors and windows. Every door and window in the coach was securely closed, and after a while, I fell asleep.
When I woke up and looked around, fog was spread everywhere. It was three in the morning, and I thought the train had probably reached Dhuri Junction, where its scheduled stop was supposed to last ten minutes. As soon as I opened the door and stepped outside, I saw that there was no one at the station. It felt completely deserted. Only the lights were on, but the fog made them impossible to see clearly.
Only the lights were on, but the fog made them impossible to see clearly.
I shouted, “Is anyone there?” two or three times, but my voice tore through the silence and desolation around me before echoing back. I waited for two or three minutes, then returned to my seat and closed the door. It was bitterly cold, and on top of that, the fog was incredibly thick. Not a single person could be seen at Dhuri Railway Station. I was still sitting alone in the entire coach. When I checked the time, it was already 1:50, even though the train was supposed to stop for only eighteen minutes. Twenty minutes had passed, and the train still hadn't moved. Panic began to take hold of me. I hurriedly grabbed my luggage, opened the door, and ran toward the next coach. There were about twelve coaches on the train. I got off from the fourth coach and ran into the fifth. The moment I entered, the train started moving. This coach also appeared to be completely empty. I put my luggage on a seat and checked the entire coach, but there wasn't a single person in sight.
There was nothing else I could do, and the train had already picked up speed. About forty minutes later, it reached Bahadur Singh Wala Station—a station it should have arrived at in only five minutes. The strange and unsettling thing was that the train had been traveling at full speed, and Sangrur was only eight kilometers from Bahadur Singh Wala Station. Yet it had taken the train forty minutes to get there. When it stopped, I once again jumped off and ran toward another coach. The moment I climbed aboard, the train started moving.
I put my luggage on a seat and began taking long, deep breaths. I pulled a bottle of water from my bag, took four or five sips, and tried to relax. After resting for a few minutes, I got up to inspect the coach. A family was sitting at the very back: a husband and wife, their two children, and an elderly couple who were probably their parents. They were all asleep. I took my bag and sat on the berth beside them. At least now I had the comfort of knowing that six other passengers were traveling in the coach with me, and I began to feel a little more at ease.
The rest of that night's journey passed without anything unnatural happening, and I reached Ludhiana safely. But how could I have known that the deserted train, the dense fog, and that mysterious night would become the greatest mystery of my life?
At the time, I thought my journey had ended there.
But the truth was that night wasn't the end of my life. It was the beginning of a mystery connected not only to me, but also to my past and my ancestors.
I didn't know then that the family I had taken for ordinary passengers would become the greatest puzzle of my life.
The mystery of that night has yet to be revealed... This was only the first glimpse. The real story is still to come.
To be continued...