The Last Train

Ihan and Barna were both first-year students at a famous university in Dhaka. They met in the library while reaching for the same book, "Wuthering Heights." They had no idea that this would be the start of their own romance until they saw each other again the following day at the campus cafeteria. Their first encounters turned into numerous ones, including during class breaks, at library tables, and outside in the late afternoons. Ihan was a young man from a small village with dreams in his eyes and roots buried deep in the ground; his father, a retired schoolteacher, barely supported the family with private tuition. In contrast, Barna came from a wealthy, urban family. Her mother was a famous socialite, and her father was a prosperous businessman.Their love seemed mismatched on paper. In fact, it was exquisitely flawless.

The relationship was never approved by Barna's family. "Foreign-educated, established men are better for you. What could you possibly get from that boy? Her mom would say it repeatedly. Barna cried, protested, and tried to reason, but nobody paid attention. Ihan, too? "I can't give you a palace, but I'll build you a home—one that's filled with peace," he said, silently enduring the insults. That's what love is. They met behind closed doors at an old tea stall close to the city train station. Their world consisted of tea, poetry, long conversations, and dreams.

Barna went missing one day. She had not picked up her phone. No social media presence. None of her friends were aware. Ihan later found out that, without even saying goodbye, she had been sent overseas—suddenly and violently. Ihan was heartbroken, but not broken. He continued to go to the same tea stall every day at the same time. The elderly tea vendor would observe with sympathy and remark, "Son, she's gone. Typically, people don't return that far. "I'm just waiting for the last train," Ihan would respond. What if she does end up on it? Ihan, meanwhile, created his own life. He worked hard in school, found employment, and started posting poetry online, gradually establishing himself. However, he never lost sight of her memory despite everything.

On a soggy evening four years later, a well-known vintage train pulled into the station. As passengers disembarked, the platform gradually became empty. A pair of eyes emerged from the final compartment, carrying an umbrella, dressed in a sopping salwar kameez, and gazing peacefully. Barna was the one. She approached the same tea stall slowly, where Ihan was still sitting, as usual, with a cup of tea in front of him and a silent hope in his eyes. Barna gave him a quick glance before whispering, "Are you still here?" Ihan grinned and answered, "You promised to come back someday. I simply did not want to miss the final train.

After that, they didn't have to say much. They just sat there in silence and sharing tea. Silence spoke for them; words weren't needed. These days, they both manage a small café in a peaceful area of the city. It was dubbed "The Last Train."

"The kind of love worth waiting for… is never in vain" is the song that plays repeatedly every evening.

Somewhere, someone is waiting—for the last train to bring you home.