On a humid morning in May 2018, Kamlo Mophuk stepped onto a train at Tinsukia, heading toward Bengaluru to visit his aging daughters. The trip should have been a simple family visit, yet it turned into a nightmare as he recounts the harrowing events that unfolded during the journey. But here's the problem: what happened next does little to explain the failures of the authorities that followed.
Two days into the passage, on May 18, Mophuk was reportedly attacked by unknown assailants aboard the train. He says the assault was severe, a shock that left him terrified. Truth is, he didn't have the luxury of waiting for help. He disembarked at Ongole Railway Station, pulling a pocket watch to time his next move. He approached the Railway Police, hands shaking, phone trembling with low battery. Yet the officers he met seemed indifferent, refusing to take a formal report.
He moved on, convinced someone might protect him. Still, he found local police stations equally reluctant, offering little more than vague platitudes. He called his daughter, Ngona Mophuk, and told her he was being chased and that his phone was almost dead. Late that night, at about 11 p.m., he spoke to his wife, each word a thin thread of fear. Dawn brought a final call on May 19, around 8 a.m., after which his phone stayed silent forever.
The daughters, residing in Bengaluru, were beside themselves with worry. Between May 19 and 24 they scoured the train routes, the station, and even local hospitals. Their search turned frantic as each phone call to an unknown number yielded nothing. The family’s frustration grew with each unanswered ping, a frustration that could only be meant for an official who promised help but delivered none.
Observers and critics point to a pattern of negligence that stretches beyond this single case. The alleged lack of urgency by Railway Police and local officers taps into wider concerns about safety protocols on Indian trains. And yet, no formal investigation has been announced, no names identified. At its core, the tragedy asks: why would anyone feel safe enough to call for help only to meet silence?
Meanwhile, at the night’s cemetery rim, a life ended quietly. The man’s death hangs like a question mark, unspoken. With his body found close to the rows of headstones, the line between hope and despair feels eerily thin. Does this story signal a larger flaw in the system, or is it a one‑off lapse that marred a single family’s joy? The answer remains buried in the dust of an unanswered call.
