Just ‘Lost’… With a Fever… In Brussels…

In the age of instant messaging, where every moment is captured through texts, pictures, and status updates, one message felt like a whisper lost in a storm.

Istiak, a student from Bangladesh studying in Germany, had gone off the grid. His last messages were confusing, disjointed: an Instagram story, a WhatsApp status from a train in Luxembourg, then nothing. Panic spread through his friend circles across multiple platforms. Group chats flooded with concerned messages, each ping echoing the rising dread. Some claimed to have seen him just days ago; others were unsure if his last known location was even real. In a sea of information, the truth was drowning.

“Has anyone heard from Istiak?” 

“His project in Brussels was critical, right?” questioned Sarah, from Germany, anxiously typing. 

“He was supposed to be in Brussels for an IMC project,” piped up Mohan from India. “That’s what he told me last week.” 

But Klaus, a coordinator from Germany, firmly stated, “There is no such project in Brussels. I checked.” The contradiction left everyone scratching their heads, uncertainty thickening the air.

Rumors buzzed, fraying nerves. “I saw him in Dieburg on the same day he was traveling to Belgium,” claimed Sofia from Italy, her message sent with an air of authority. Another friend swore they had seen him on a bus, high and disoriented, spurring whispers of concern. How could he be in two places at once?

The thread of mystery grew more tangled by the hour. His classmates pieced together the fragments of his movements, recalling odd conversations or sudden disappearances. 

“He mentioned a hospital visit for a friend,” recalled Amir from Pakistan. 

“But there was no accident,” countered Lina from Germany. 

And then, the eerie silence.

Friends who had never met him in person were suddenly deeply invested, posting in group chats, trying to mobilize help. Desperate, they called the police, contacted embassies, and even planned to visit his apartment. Yet every attempt to locate him led to dead ends. His flatmates reported seeing him on the balcony just a day before. But if that was true, how had he sent a message from Luxembourg?

The group became frantic. Messages pinged one after another:

“We should contact the embassy in Belgium,” suggested Hana from South Korea. 

“What if he’s in trouble?” asked Ravi from India, his worry palpable. 

“I saw him Thursday night in Dieburg, but he was supposed to be in Luxembourg by then…” murmured Theo from Greece, his words barely a whisper.

With every passing hour, theories grew darker. Maybe he was in danger. Maybe his phone had been stolen. Or worse—maybe something more sinister had happened.

But despite all the chaos and countless messages across WhatsApp, Facebook, and other platforms, no one had heard from him directly—until an email appeared.

It was from Istiak.

"Maan. I lost my phone in Brussels. I am stuck with my fever and alone in this BnB. Please tell my mom I am ok and lost my phone (don’t tell her about the sickness). Please inform Tama or others also."

"I don’t know what I will do, fuuck... This fever is literally killing me. I didn’t bring my laptop. I cannot use any stuff from here. Somehow I logged into my mail from this BnB’s laptop. My ticket’s for Wednesday but I’m feeling devastated. If I feel okay physically, I will try to get back ASAP. Please tell my mom not to worry. Pera nis na, ami call ditesi. Dekhi kal ora asbe tokhon tader karo theke phone niye ami call dibo."

His message was raw, filled with emotion. After endless speculation and countless dead ends, it was Gmail—a tool almost forgotten in the age of DMs and instant notifications—that finally bridged the gap between the lost student and his frantic friends.

A collective sigh of relief washed over the group. He was alive, but clearly not well.

Despite all the social media platforms at their fingertips, the message had come through an old, simple tool: an email. And though Istiak was alone in a foreign country, sick and helpless, for the first time, there was a glimmer of hope.

The group chat fell silent for a moment.

Then, in one line, someone summarized what everyone was thinking:

"Thank God for Gmail."

But just as the relief started to settle, another chilling thought dawned on one of them:

"Wait... if he sent the email today, who was seen on his balcony last night?"

Suspense hung thick in the air as the chat buzzed again with a mix of fear and disbelief. Whispers of theories spiraled like shadows around the group, each message painting a darker picture. What if someone had been watching? Or worse, what if someone had taken his place?

The mystery deepened, and suddenly the friends were not just concerned; they were terrified. They were searching for Istiak, but what if they had stumbled upon something far more sinister? The storm was far from over.