In the past, I’ve shared tales of Bangladesh’s most infamous haunted places. But tonight, let me take you somewhere different—into the heart of Dhaka, where the restless shadows linger. Welcome to the Purba (East) Nayatola Rail Crossing in Moghbazar, a site whispered about in hushed tones, a place where grief and mystery intertwine.
This crossing may not appear on every list of haunted landmarks, yet over the years it has carved out a reputation as one of the few places in Dhaka where the veil between worlds feels unbearably thin. Locals speak of strange sights, unexplained chills, and an apparition that makes the bravest hearts falter.
So what lies behind this eerie reputation? The story begins—and always returns—to a woman who never found peace, a mother forever searching for the child she lost upon these tracks.
True Horror at the Purba Nayatola Rail Crossing
One chilling account comes directly from a station master—a man accustomed to long nights and weary travelers, yet unprepared for what awaited him here. His testimony has echoed across social media and local blogs, leaving readers with goosebumps.
According to him, the figure of a woman often appears at the crossing, her presence marked by an unnatural stillness. Curious but unsettled, he once approached her and asked why she stood alone in the dead of night. Her answer was simple, but it pierced like ice: “I lost my son. I’m searching for him.”
Before he could react, she vanished into the fog, dissolving like a wisp of smoke. It was then he realized the truth—he had not spoken to the living.
The tale darkens further in the retellings. Some believe she was a grieving mother who, unable to endure her pain, threw herself before an oncoming train. Others claim she was struck by accident while desperately searching for her child on the tracks. In either version, her sorrow bound her spirit to this place.
Yet, not everyone believes she is truly a mother’s spirit. Some whisper she might be something darker—a Jinn taking the form of a grieving woman, luring the unwary closer, feeding on fear beneath the twilight sky. Witnesses claim that sightings of her often precede fatal accidents, as if the apparition heralds tragedy.
Whether spirit or trickster, one thing is certain: the crossing is not a place to linger. Those who’ve felt her presence describe a suffocating heaviness in the air, the unsettling sense of being watched, and the instinct to leave before the night swallows them whole.
So if you ever find yourself near the Purba Nayatola Rail Crossing after dark, walk with care, breathe lightly, and remember—Dhaka’s shadows carry secrets that do not wish to be disturbed.
