The forgotten passenger
🌒 The Forgotten Passenger
A Psychological Thriller Short Story | By Faraz Parvez
Professor Dr. (Retired) Arshad Afzal
Retired Faculty Member, Umm Al-Qura University, Makkah, KSA
(Pseudonym of Professor Dr. Arshad Afzal)
🚆 "People get on. People get off. But sometimes... someone vanishes in between."
It was supposed to be an ordinary journey. The Lahore-Karachi express had just departed from the platform, humming with late-night murmurs, the scent of rain-soaked earth trailing behind. Among the passengers was a young woman in a blue shawl—seated by the window in Compartment B-17. Quiet, polite, and barely noticeable.
Three hours later, as the train pulled into the Rohri junction, the seat was empty.
She was gone.
No one had seen her leave. The door was locked. Her bag was still there, untouched. Her ID was missing.
Panic broke out.
Was she kidnapped? Did she jump? Did she ever exist?
👴 Enter: Inspector Haider Karim (Retired)
Among the passengers was Inspector Haider Karim, a retired police officer traveling to attend his granddaughter’s wedding. Weathered face, calm demeanor, eyes sharp as a hawk.
The moment the train staff declared the woman "missing," he quietly began his own inquiry. No longer in service, but never out of instinct.
His findings shocked everyone.
Some passengers remembered her clearly:
“She asked me for water.”
“She smiled when I helped her with her bag.”
Others swore she was never there:
“There was no woman in B-17. It was empty.”
“I think you’re all imagining things.”
Even the train manifest mysteriously had no mention of her name. Her ticket was paid in cash. No national ID was recorded.
🕵️ Clues & Characters Begin to Surface
- A shady textile merchant seated across from her vanishes at the next station.
- A railway guard reports seeing someone in blue jumping onto the tracks—but the CCTV footage disappears.
- A hidden notebook is found behind her seat, with cryptic Urdu poetry and names crossed out violently.
- An old woman confesses in whispers:
"She looked just like my daughter... but my daughter died 12 years ago on this same train."
As Haider delves deeper, the line between reality and illusion blurs.
💥 The Final Twist
At Karachi station, Haider is approached by a man in uniform, claiming to be from Military Intelligence.
“She’s one of ours,” he says. “Deep undercover. You were never meant to see her.”
Haider hands over the notebook—but keeps a torn page. It reads:
“I travel to vanish. Each time, in a new face.
I am not who they think I am.
I am what they fear I could be.”
The next morning, Haider checks into his hotel—and finds the blue shawl folded neatly on his bed.
✍️ Final Word to Our Readers
This story isn’t just about mystery. It’s about the people who vanish from our lives without warning. It’s about what we choose to forget… and what refuses to be forgotten.
👉 Like stories that tangle your mind and keep you thinking long after the last word?
Stay tuned to our blog for more uniquely South Asian psychological thrillers, suspense tales, and slice-of-life narratives.
📌 Follow and share — because stories like these deserve to be read, retold, and remembered.
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