The Velocity of Being Lost

It is 3:14 am. The house is holding its breath, and the silence is heavy enough to touch. In the daylight, we pretend we are moving toward something—a destination, a goal, a version of ourselves that finally makes sense. But in the dark, the movement feels different. It feels like a loop. We are just streaks of heat and noise, rushing past one another, convinced that if we go fast enough, we might outrun the stillness that waits at the end of the road. We leave trails of light behind us, glowing markers of where we have been, yet we never seem to arrive anywhere new. We are just blurring into the background of a city that doesn’t know our names. Is it possible that we are not traveling at all? Perhaps we are only burning ourselves out to prove that we exist, terrified that if we stop, the darkness will simply swallow us whole. What happens when the engine finally cuts out?

Sanjiban Ghosh has captured this restless energy in his work titled Traffic Rush. It feels like a mirror held up to the way we chase the night. Do you ever feel like you are just a ghost passing through your own life?