The smell of phenol, antiseptic liquids, and the bustling activity of people filled the hospital corridors. The atmosphere seemed happy for some, sad, and hopeful for many. The walls are carrying chipped paint and stain marks of tobacco spitting. Some people were sitting on the floor, while others were sitting on the benches. The walkways, corridors, and even rooms were filled with murmurs, screams, and the chatter of patients, relatives, nurses, and doctors. The hospital wasn't a big one and not a grand one, absolutely. It was more of a nursing home, just 2 floors, crowded and compact. Despite its shortcomings, the atmosphere buzzed with a sense of resilience. Each person had their story, woven into the fabric of the place, creating a community bound by shared experiences and struggles.