The Mirror of Ajmer
A Horror Short Story Set in the Subcontinent
By Faraz Parvez
Professor Dr. (Retired) Arshad Afzal
Former Faculty Member, Umm Al-Qura University, Makkah, KSA
(Pseudonym of Professor Dr. Arshad Afzal)
The Mirror of Ajmer
Every city has its secrets. Ajmer’s, they say, is not buried underground but hung on a wall, hidden behind a rusted curtain in an abandoned haveli near the Dargah.
Locals call it Aaina-e-Saaya—the Shadow Mirror.
No one remembers who built it. Only that once, it hung in the palace of a Mughal general whose wife disappeared without a trace… after gazing into it on a full moon.
Since then, the haveli has passed through hands—only to be abandoned again, after tragedy, madness, or worse.
The Curious Case of Anila Noor
Anila was a 23-year-old postgraduate student in anthropology from Karachi. Her thesis was on “Indigenous Occult Objects in Colonial India.” Eager to stand out, she chose a topic her professor warned her against: Haunted Objects in Urban Myths.
She was drawn to Ajmer like iron to a magnet. She arrived during the heat of May, taking a rented room near the shrine. Locals were warm—until she mentioned the haveli.
“There’s no such place,” they’d say.
Or worse, whisper:
“It finds you, if you insist.”
On the fifth day, a boy handed her a hand-drawn map—no words, no explanation—and vanished into the alley.
The First Gaze
She found the haveli at sunset. Vines clung to its pillars like dying lovers. Inside, dust floated like frozen spirits. The mirror was easy to find—wrapped in a blood-red curtain, in a locked upstairs room that had no keyhole.
Yet the door opened by itself.
The mirror stood tall, framed in brass and bone. It reflected the room. And yet… not her.
The first time she looked, she saw a woman in a white sari—back turned, humming. The woman moved only when Anila blinked. Then closer. Closer.
Anila snapped out of the trance.
She fled.
But she returned the next night.
Obsession
Each night, she visited.
Each night, the woman in the mirror got closer.
Some nights, she wore Anila’s face. Other nights, she wept blood. Once, she held up a sign that read:
“DO NOT LOOK BACK.”
Anila couldn’t stop. Her health withered. Her notes became scribbles. Her voice cracked from sleeplessness. Her reflection stopped following her movements—even outside the mirror.
She tried smashing it with a stone. The mirror absorbed the impact like water.
On the 13th night, she vanished.
The New Reflection
Weeks later, her professor came searching.
He found the haveli. Found her notebook. Found her camera bag.
But no Anila.
Then he glanced at the mirror.
And she was there. Behind the glass. Wearing white. Smiling. Beckoning with a finger.
She had become the mirror’s new reflection.
Local Lore Today
The haveli is boarded up again. But some claim the mirror reappears, briefly, in antique shops or roadside stalls. No one can keep it more than a week.
A young couple in Multan reportedly went mad after hanging it in their bedroom.
A collector in Delhi claimed he spoke to his dead sister through it—before setting his mansion on fire.
And still, the mirror waits.
For another curious soul.
Another gaze.
Another reflection to steal.
By Faraz Parvez
Professor Dr. (Retired) Arshad Afzal
Former Faculty Member, Umm Al-Qura University, Makkah, KSA
(Pseudonym of Professor Dr. Arshad Afzal)
🪞 For more eerie stories from the realms of forgotten myths, terrifying truths, and subcontinental mystery, visit:
👉 farazparvez1.blogspot.com
Read. Reflect. Return.
But remember… some mirrors don’t show you.
They show what wants to become you.
