‘Familiarity breeds contempt’. Before I
find my job a run of the mill to be written about, I would very much like to
document it for future amusement.
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I casted my vision across the waters. The
ocean is so vast that she fused herself to the sky. Wind was omnipresent. Some
stroking my hair. Turquoise waves were camouflaging local beings that I somehow
managed to make out as a school of fish swarming. The evening was getting
chilly as I let some hot chocolate warm my lips. I took a lungful of sea breeze
again. Fresh scent of the salty sea streamed into my nostrils. At last, I am
away from the city- a place where we appreciate aquatic geology as monsoon
drains and man made lakes. It takes quite some conviction to down the fact that
I am now water-borne, away from traffic jams and mobile phones. A good absence
from land, which even the nearest from us lies hundreds of meters below our
feet. I stand on a façade so artificial, consolidated in the innocence of
nature.
I am on a small island made of steel. I
finally embarked on my first real job as an offshore field engineer on an oil
rig. Before I signed the letter of acceptance nine months ago, I heard of
caveats about the price of making a living with this profession. It did not
matter to me. Nothing could come in the way of a fresh graduate, surging with
veberating energy, who is underpaid in a monotonous desk-bound job. Though I worked
in the heart of lacer-paced Kuala
Lumpur
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| This is what a rig looks like |
