After the Last Train - Part 1

 

The Girl Who Missed Every Train

Mira had a strange habit.

She was always late.

Not by minutes — by moments.

She would reach the railway platform just in time to see the train pulling away. Not running late. Not rushed. Just standing there calmly… watching it leave.

And every time, there would be someone already inside the train, leaning near the door.

Kabir.

He never missed a train.

Organized. Practical. Time-managed. The kind of man who reached ten minutes early and checked the clock twice.

They were not lovers.

They were “almost.”

They met during daily commutes. Same route. Same time. Same platform tea stall. Conversations began with complaints about railway announcements and slowly grew into debates about life, movies, politics, and why samosas tasted better in winter.

Mira was chaos.

Kabir was structure.

She once told him, “One day I will board the train before you.”

He smiled. “Impossible. You argue with auto drivers too long.”

She laughed. “Life is not timetable, Mr. Railway Officer.”

“I am not railway officer.”

“You behave like one.”

Days became months.

They never called it love.

But they waited for each other.

If Kabir entered the compartment first, he would stand near the door until she appeared on the platform — slightly out of breath, hair messy, smiling like she had won something.

If she didn’t come, his ride felt longer.

If he wasn’t there, her tea tasted bland.

One evening, while sharing a paper cup of tea, she asked casually,

“If one day I miss the train forever… will you wait?”

He didn’t look at her.

“Trains don’t wait.”

She smiled.

“But people can.”

The train arrived.

Doors opened.

Crowd moved.

That day 

Mira didn’t board.

And Kabir didn’t know it was the last train they would almost take together.

Simply Life

Life is simple—live and exist,
yet we weave knots with thought and twist;
A child believes what eyes can see,
each word the whole of truth to be.

We grow, and minds begin to weigh,
what’s right, what fades, what will not stay;
We overthink, we judge, we plan,
and complicate what simply ran.

With age we learn a quieter art
most things dissolve, depart;
Each day arrives, then slips away,
like light that never meant to stay.

And whether spoken, loud or shy,
at last there waits a soft goodbye

Dream - Part 10 - Final

 

The Final Exit of Bhooth Madam

That evening, Arjun stayed late in his cabin.

Files were open. Mind half working. Half elsewhere.

Ananya stood near the bookshelf, unusually quiet.

After a long silence, she suddenly said,

“You know… I think I found my purpose.”

He didn’t look up. “Please tell me it is not to haunt my coffee.”

“No,” she said seriously. “I have bigger plans.”

He sighed. “Like what? Open ghost consultancy?”

She ignored him.

“I realized something. I can’t eat pani puri. I can’t drink tea. I can’t bang your head properly. And...”

He almost smiled.

She continued dramatically, “So I have decided… I will start scaring random people.”

He finally looked up. “What?”

“Yes. Proper ghost duty. Yesterday I tried.”

“Oh God…” he muttered.

She came closer, whispering excitedly.

“There was one small boy in your colony. He was refusing to drink milk. His mother was shouting. So I stood behind him and made scary face.”

“And?”

“He looked straight at me… and said, ‘Aunty, your makeup is bad.’”

Arjun choked.

“What?”

“Yes! Then he drank milk peacefully and went to sleep. I think he thought I am some cartoon.”

Arjun tried not to laugh.

She continued.

“And one uncle… I tried to scare him in lift. I floated slightly.”

“And?”

“He said, ‘Beta, do yoga properly. Your posture is wrong.’”

This time Arjun burst out laughing.

Full laughter.

Loud.

Uncontrolled.

For the first time since she died.

She placed hands on her hips.

“See? Even in ghost life nobody takes me seriously.”

He wiped his eyes.

“You? Scary? Impossible. You talk too much to be a ghost.”

She pretended to be offended. “Excuse me! I am premium category ghost.”

He shook his head.

“No. You are… just Ananya.”

For a moment, both went silent.

She looked at him carefully.

“No anger?” she asked softly.

“No,” he replied. “Just… peace.”

She nodded slowly.

“I think… I understand now. I was not here to scare you. Not to disturb your life. Maybe I was just stuck. May be traffic jam to go heaven or hell, Or may be server problem in registering the candidate for heaven or hell.. Uff so much of population.. Here also long queue.. I need wait for my turn here also .”

He did not interrupt.

She smiled — the same playful smile, but lighter now.

“You know what? I don’t need palace. I don’t need welcome party. I just needed you to laugh one more time with me.”

His throat tightened slightly.

“Well,” he said gently, “mission successful, Bhooth madam.”

She saluted dramatically.

“Thank you, Officer sir.”

The cabin lights flickered once.

She stepped backward.

“This time I think they are really calling me,” she said, looking upward. “Hopefully proper welcome party has been arranged. With pani puri and many good eatables are ready,..… even I can’t stop myself to take that party...”

He smiled softly.

“Go,” he said. “And please… don’t scare children.”

“No promises,” she grinned.

And just like that 

she faded.

Not painfully.
Not dramatically.

Like a joke that ends at the right time.

The chair was empty again.

This time, completely.

Arjun sat alone in his cabin.

But he wasn’t afraid.

He picked up his bag, switched off the lights, and walked home.

At the gate, he paused for a second.

“Bye, Bhooth,” he murmured.

Somewhere far beyond sight 

a welcome party probably began.

And if there was laughter in heaven that day,

it definitely sounded like hers.

The End.

Dream - Part 9

 

The Chair Was Never Empty

That night, she vanished.

No dramatic goodbye.
No upside-down tree hanging.
No commentary.

She simply wasn’t there.

Arjun noticed — but only briefly.

He did not search.
He did not call her name in his mind.
He slept.

The next morning, life resumed its usual discipline.

Ironed shirt.
Polished shoes.
Strong coffee — without Saridon.

He reached office, entered his cabin, and sat down. The files were stacked as usual. The world was normal.

But for one moment — just one — he paused.

Did I hurt her?

He flipped open a file.

Damn… why did she die?

He signed one page.

Why did she come back like this? Why act like a devil? Why always so stupid?

He shut the file with a soft thud.

“You didn’t hurt me.”

The voice came gently.

He froze.

She was sitting on the same chair as before — the one no one else could see occupied.

“Neither am I stupid,” she added quietly. “It’s fine. If I am disturbing your life, I didn’t mean to interfere.”

Her tone was softer than ever.

No drama.
No jokes.

Before he could respond, she stood up and walked toward the window.

While turning, she bumped into the edge of the table.

“Ouch!” she shouted instinctively.

He looked up quickly.

“Are you okay?”

She paused.

Then gave a small crooked smile.

“Now I don’t get hurt from wooden lifeless things. I don’t get hurt anymore. I am like… superhero sort.”

He leaned back in his chair.

“This is not superhero,” he said calmly. “You are wandering. That’s not fair.”

She spun around.

“Oye! You think only you are big hero? I can’t be big hero? You don’t know my powers. You know what happened yesterday—”

She was about to continue.

He raised his hand slightly.

“Look… whatever happened… you don’t understand what I want to say. You simply keep talking unrealistic nonsense.”

The words came out sharper than he intended.

She stopped mid-sentence.

He was already looking down at his files again. Pen moving. Papers turning. Focused.

As if she wasn’t there.

The cabin felt colder.

She stood near the window, watching him.

No laughter.

No ghost threats.

Just quiet.

For someone who once filled every silence with sound —
this silence was unbearable.

And once again,

even in death,

she felt alone.

Dream - Part 8

 

 Coffee, Saridon & One Invisible Problem

Arjun finally reached home.

He opened the door, stepped inside, removed his shoes, and tried to behave normal. Calm. Composed. Married-man-with-responsibilities mode activated.

Behind him, floating happily like an unpaid electricity bill — Ananya followed.

His wife looked up from the dining table.

“You’re back?”

“Hmm,” he nodded. “Can you please give me one cup of hot and strong coffee?”

“Sure… two minutes,” she replied, walking toward the kitchen.

Ananya stood beside him, looking around the house like a tourist.

“Nice house da… clean also. Your wife maintains well. Good selection.”

“Shhh,” he whispered.

She ignored him.

As his wife was about to enter the kitchen, Ananya suddenly said loudly,

“Coffee With Saridon tablet?”

Without thinking, Arjun instantly replied,

“I don’t want!”

His wife stopped mid-step.

She slowly turned around.

“You don’t want… coffee?”

He froze.

“No… I mean… I want coffee…”

She raised one eyebrow. “Then?”

He panicked. “Nothing! Just coffee. No tablet. Nothing extra.”

“Tablet?” she asked, confused. “Why will I put tablet in coffee?”

“Exactly!” he said too loudly. “Why will you put tablet in coffee? Who does that?”

She blinked.

“Okay…” she said slowly. “As you wish.”

And she walked into the kitchen.

The moment she disappeared, Ananya burst into uncontrollable laughter.

Not soft. Not ghostly.

Full volume.

Clutching her stomach.

“Ha ha ha! With Saridon tablet! Your face! Oh my God!”

Arjun held his head.

“Uff… seriously sorry, dear!” he shouted toward the kitchen. “It was not for you! Can you please bring a hot coffee? I need it.”

From inside, his wife replied, “Okay…”

Ananya continued laughing.

“You saw your face? ‘I don’t want!’ like a scared child!”

He turned toward her, irritation visible now.

“You will mess my life. You are making me look like a fool in front of others. What kind of friend are you?”

She stopped laughing.

The smile slowly faded.

“I was just joking,” she said softly.

“This is not joke. This is my life,” he whispered angrily. “You cannot interfere like this. Already I am talking to empty air. If someone notices, what will they think?”

She looked at him for a few seconds.

The same girl who once filled silence with nonstop words…

Now quiet.

“Okay,” she said gently. “I shall keep quiet.”

For the first time since she appeared as a ghost, she stepped back.

Not playfully.

Not dramatically.

Just… quietly.

His wife returned with the coffee.

“Here.”

He took it carefully.

“Thank you.”

She sat beside him. “Are you okay? You look stressed.”

“I’m fine,” he said quickly.

Ananya stood near the window, watching.

He blew on the coffee and took a sip.

Silence filled the room.

She did not comment.

Did not tease.

Did not add anything.

And strangely—

That silence felt heavier than all her nonsense combined.

Arjun glanced toward the window.

She stood there, looking smaller somehow.

Invisible.

Quiet.

And for the first time,

he almost missed her noise.

Dream - Part 7

 

Free Ghost, Paid Human

Evening wrapped the office building in tired light.

Arjun completed his work, shut down his computer, packed his bag, and stepped out. The corridor felt unusually silent.

As he walked toward the parking area, her words echoed in his mind.

“Heavenly people are preparing my palace… arranging welcome party…”

He smiled unconsciously.

“Welcome party aaah…” he murmured to himself. “This girl… even after death…”

“Even after death what?”

He stopped walking.

She stood in front of him.

This time, he was shocked — but not the same terrified shock as before. It was more like… startled familiarity.

“You didn’t go yet?” he asked cautiously.

She folded her arms dramatically.

“As if you have booked a ticket for me with your expense, you are asking. I didn’t go. Don’t worry, I won’t increase your expenses. Now I can’t even eat anything, you know.”

He blinked.

“I tried eating pani puri,” she continued sadly. “My favorite! Uff… I thought everything will be free now. I can eat whatever I want. Though I am not hungry, I felt like eating. But I was unable to eat. Nothing. Can’t taste, can’t swallow. Waste of ghost life.”

He stared at her.

“Free mein dost mil gayi tere ko,” she added proudly. “I won’t add any tax for you.”

He shook his head.

“Hearing your words itself is a tax. It’s been a while since I heard such long, long explanations. God… I just asked ‘you didn’t go yet?’ Your answer was like blah blah blah for five minutes.”

She pretended to look offended.

“Oh… I am tired.”

“This is what happens if you keep talking without full stop.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Oh, I am not tired of talking. I am tired of sitting idle. Now I got you. You are free, right? We have a lot to talk. Come, come… you are going home only, right?”

“Yes, home,” he replied carefully. “But why will you come?”

She made a dramatic frowning face.

“Won’t you allow me inside your house? I had already been to your home. I saw your wife too.”

He stopped walking again.

“Huh? When? When did you go?”

“Calm down,” she said quickly. “I didn’t do anything to your beloved wife. I saw her today morning when you were about to leave for office. After that, I didn’t go to your heavenly house.”

He sighed in frustration. “You and your commentary…”

“With your permission, I will again come,” she continued. “If no permission… then I will stay on trees. Hanging upside down.”

He couldn’t help it.

He laughed.

“Upside down? Nice. It suits you.”

She stepped closer, looking straight into his eyes.

“Hey… shall I come or not?”

There was something different in her voice now.

Not playful.

Not dramatic.

Just a simple question.

And for the first time since she appeared as a ghost,

Arjun did not answer immediately.

Dream - Part 6

 

Questions to the Unseen

Arjun stood frozen.

For a long moment, he could only hear his own heartbeat.

He swallowed hard, took a deep breath, and asked in a trembling voice,

“Why… why did you come here?”

She tilted her head slightly, watching him with amusement.

“What do you want?” he continued. “As far as I know, I didn’t hurt you intentionally. Why are you here? Will you… will you kill me? Please don’t. I have responsibilities.”

The word responsibilities sounded heavier now.

Ananya burst into a soft laugh.

“Uff yaar… calm down, calm down. I am not here to kill you. Even I don’t know why I am here still. Maybe it is because I died in an accident, right? So the heavenly people were not ready yet. They are still preparing my palace and arranging a grand welcome party for me.”

He blinked.

“Huh? Welcome party aaah? What nonsense!”

She folded her invisible arms proudly. “Why? You think I don’t deserve?”

“If you are not here to kill me,” he said cautiously, “then what are you doing, Pishachi?”

She gasped dramatically.

“Pishachi? I am not Pishachi! I am… more like an angel. A cupid, you know?”

He shook his head. “No way. You can never be a cupid. You eat people’s brains and drink their blood. Now maybe you got license also.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Very funny.”

His phone rang suddenly, breaking the tension.

He almost jumped before answering it.

“Yes, sir… yes, I’ll send the file… give me ten minutes.”

He ended the call and looked at her again.

“I have work, dear Cupid. Shall talk to you later.”

She rolled her eyes.

“Oh busy human. See, one should be like me — free from all worldly pleasures. No files, no meetings, no deadlines.”

He gave that same small, silent smile — the one she had always loved.

“Now go, please. I have work.”

She shrugged lightly.

“Sure, I will. But keep this in mind… I will be roaming around you.”

He stiffened again.

“Hey… wait. You won’t kill me, okay. But you won’t kill my wife also, right? Or… possess her? You won’t do anything like that?”

Fear had returned to his eyes.

Ananya stared at him for a long second.

“Heavenly lord,” she said slowly, “I never thought you have such criminal thoughts in your heart. I always felt you are a good, cool dude.”

She stepped closer — though her steps made no sound.

“I will not kill you. I will not harm your wife. I am not here to interfere with your family or your life. I was just roaming… and I came to see you. That’s all.”

There was no jealousy in her tone now. Only something softer.

“Okay,” she said gently. “I will go. Bye.”

She began to fade — not dramatically, not like smoke — but like a memory that slowly loses clarity.

Arjun remained seated, staring at the empty space where she stood.

His cabin was silent again.

Only the untouched cup of tea remained on the table — now completely cold.