Sur-real

An enchanted garden, step inside; touch to feel nothing.

The impending weekender did materialise and not only that, it also evolved into a new hybrid, the weekend-overnighter. Driving home from the office at 5am is a surreal experience. Your eyes have been burnt bright by the CRT monitors and everything seems halo-ed. The lack of oxygen from the de-airconditioned office adds to the haziness. The expectation of being blasted by humid warm air upon leaving the office never materialises. The air is as cool or as warm as that in the office. Everything feels the same. You feel cocooned in a bubble, where nothing seems real but yet everything is. Cocooned and Detached. The only people on the roads at this time are those making their way back from merrymaking. At the traffic lights you peer into the occupied cabs to see half drunk passengers dozing off; and you immediately empathize with the taxi driver. We are both workers of the night. But at least he chose the night shift. I had the day and the night shifts chosen for me.