How do I describe my working experience:

Walking to work feels like a stroll in the park; with undulating slopes and greenery, holiday-like lodges built sparsely around the vicinity. The cool morning air, with sights of joggers and retirees strolling around the medical-park contrasts sharply with the adrenaline pumping rush hour in the business districts. Going to work is a quiet affair.

As I walk along the corridors, wafts of cheap tobacco smells linger around usual corners as the older folks hide in unseen corners to take a smoke. Time to time, scruffy looking men take their routined stroll along the corridors, wandering aimlessly without a sense of time. Maintaining my straight face, walking with my head held high, I walk past them ensuring a safety radius around me as I pass them.

As I walk further into the blocks of lodges, I noticed huge rain trees that tower grandly alongside the buildings. The branches and leaves swaying lightly to the breeze hypnotizes the environment, drawing it into a state of serenity. Given that fact, however, the peace of the daytime would occasionally be pierced by screams and loud groans coming forth from the lodges. No one bats an eyelid

I began to contemplate my adaptation to this rustic, strange environment. Struggling with stacks of record files in my arms, with the echo of my heels clucking down the corridor, I walk pass people who, on the contrary, are detached from reality; some walking aimlessly, some sitting around like monuments. Time seems to pass at a different pace in society's hidden community.

It doesn't feel like I have worked. To be detached from the mass of office workers, to be detached from the posh and hype of the cosmopolitan city feels unrealistic. For now, I dwell in the unknown but existing realm of an unfamiliar community.