An Evening In Jamshedpur

I’m walking in my room, taking a break from work. The namaz echoes in the sunny, mellow evening. A flood of listless memories, none of them distinct but all mashed together, comes to mind. It’s a nostalgia of emptiness, and it immediately takes me back to a contrary event last night when I was on my bed, writing and rejoicing at the things learned. One can feel exhilarated with life at one moment, and a profound lack the next. This sudden flip - is it one such intangible of being a human?
I wish to be somewhere else; But do not make the futile effort to imagine the place that rescues me - in the hearts of my heart, I know that I’m looking to escape my self, and there’s no place where I can escape from my self.
Why do I dread these unhappening evenings with namaz filling up the void?