It was a cold winter night. The last local train left Sealdah around midnight. The carriage was nearly empty. Akash sat by the window, dozing off with exhaustion. Suddenly, the train slowed down and eventually came to a halt.
Akash opened his eyes in surprise. This was not supposed to be a station! Outside, there was a fog-covered platform. There were no lights, except for a dim glow illuminating the station nameplate—"Nishipur." Akash had never heard of a station by that name on this line.
The train door opened on its own. A figure was standing on the platform. It was impossible to tell if it was human or something else. The individual boarded the carriage and sat in the seat directly opposite Akash. The person wore a tattered coat, and their head was unnervingly bent toward the ground.
Akash felt deeply uneasy. He whispered, "Was this station always here?"
The man did not answer. He slowly lifted his head. A chill ran down Akash's spine—where the eyes should have been, there were two deep, dark hollows, and the man's mouth was sewn shut. He extended an old, worn-out diary toward Akash.
The pages of the diary read: "I missed the last train, and I never returned."
The train began to move again. Terrified, Akash closed his eyes tightly. When the train finally stopped at the next station, he scrambled out of the carriage. As he stepped onto the platform, he looked back to find the carriage completely empty.
The next morning, Akash inquired, "Is there a station named 'Nishipur' on this line?" An old railway worker sighed and said, "Son, that station was closed a long time ago. It was lost forever after a major accident many years ago. Those who were seen getting off at that station never came back."
Akash reached into his pocket and started in shock. The old diary was there, and on the very last page, written in fresh ink, were the words— "See you tomorrow."