It was a sunny morning. But the clouds had just begun to gather in the sky. And it looked like it might rain any minute, soon. I was sitting on a bench in a park near my colony. It was the only park where we could go for a walk and get some fresh air. We were not so lucky to have such parks in our colony. Ours was unauthorized. It was known for its cramped population and worse civic conditions. Not a single road was well laid out. Open sewers and filth were common sights wherever I passed. But we were happy to at least have a place to live and a roof over our heads to hide from all kinds of calamities of city life. It was my daily routine to come here and walk at least for half an hour. I rarely deviated from that routine. It was like my breathing. It would keep me energetic and invigorated all day. But as the winter intensified, passers-by suddenly stopped coming in. I would even skip a day or two when it became unbearable. Among the regular customers was an old man in his seventies. I had hardly seen him miss his morning walk. For the last two months he has been coming here. Maybe he was new in town. He would come almost the same time I came here. But today the weather was unbearably cold, so I didn't expect it to show up. Even the gardener who had the task of looking after the park no longer came. When he appeared I was surprised. But today he seemed lost and sad. I remembered last night's TV report that it was the coldest day of the season and had broken many decades' record. It was mid-January and all schools and universities were closed. I was a little relaxed thinking that I wouldn't have to rush home and take the kids to school......in the middle of the papers......sitting on the bench. As he approached, I stood up to greet him. After returning my compliments, he said, "I'm happy my son finally booked my ticket." I'll take the train this evening. I am very happy to go to my village.''When will you return, uncle?' I asked out of curiosity. «No, no, maybe, never. I would rather live there than die here any moment in this suffocating environment of city life,' he said with some resolve. 'But, what if your children ask you to come again?' I asked. “I would ask them to come to my village if they wanted to see me,” he said emphatically. He greeted me and hugged me as if I were an old friend of his. I continued to watch him until he disappeared from my sight. It seemed to me that he had wings and was happy to find his new freedom and space to fly.………… About the author: