**Title: The Passenger of the Last Train đ**
It was around 12:30 at night. The small village station had fallen silent. Under the dim light, an old man sat alone. His name was Hashem Ali. In his hand was an old bag, and in his eyes was a strange kind of waiting.
The station clock ticked steadily. The last train would arrive in ten minutes.
Hashem Ali came to the station every night at this exact time. The villagers said he had gone a little mad. Because ten years ago, his son Arif had gone to the city for work and never returned.
That day, he had said,
"Abba, I will return on the last train. Please wait for me." đ
After that, there was no news.
Yet Hashem Ali kept coming every night, waiting for the last train.
Suddenly, a distant light appeared. đ
The station trembled as the train arrived and stopped.
A few passengers got off. One by one, they all left. The platform became empty again.
Hashem Ali slowly stood up. In his eyes was a spark of hope, and the familiar shadow of disappointment.
Just then, a voice came from behindâ
"AbbaâŚ"
Hashem Ali froze.
Slowly, he turned around.
A young man stood there. Tired, bearded, with tears in his eyes.
"Abba⌠it's me, ArifâŚ" đ˘
The bag fell from Hashem Ali's hand. He couldn't believe it.
"You⌠is it really you?"
Arif stepped forward and hugged his father. đ¤
"Forgive me, Abba. I was going through a lot. It took me so long to come back."
Tears streamed down Hashem Ali's face. But this time, they were tears of joy.
He simply said,
"I knew you would return on the last train." â¤ď¸
After that night, the old man was never seen waiting for the last train again.
Because his waiting had finally come to an end. â¨