It had just stop raining, the road was wet and tiny water droplets were dripping from the trees as the wind blew. She was walking alone, the breeze was cool after the rain. The sun had just started to set on the horizon. A cuckoo sang, perched atop a mango tree. The sky was a riot of colours, few clouds dotted the sky, orange, pink and purple in colour. She looked up at the sky, the clouds only enhanced the depth of the vast sky. A soft breeze blew, the tree leaves trembled and a small water droplet fell on her delicate pink cheeks, her soft black hair danced delicately with the breeze. A smile broke onto her face, her blue eyes twinkled. She closed her eyes and opened her arms, she wanted to fly. She took a deep breath, the cool fresh air filled her lungs and she ran, she ran as fast as she could, giggling and happy as if she was flying. An old man was sitting on a bench near the park and observing her. Her joy was infectious and he couldn't conceal the smile which she brought to his face.

"Cherry, come on lets go home dear", a voice called out to the girl. She ran towards the bridge and hugged her mother. The old man stared as she left, hopping alongside, holding her mother's hand. He sat there thinking for a long time, the girl's face was still clear in front of his eyes. He smiled as he thought of her. Her momentary presence had brought a special joy in his life, he felt as if some kind of energy had filled his mind and body.

When he reached home, he could still feel the joy in his heart. He went to bed early but couldn't sleep because of the anticipation of going to the park next day and watching the little girl.

When he got up the next day, he had a weird feeling, he couldn't recognize the feeling, he felt very uneasy. Later, he realized he was nervous, he sat on a chair thinking. When was the last time he was so happy? He couldn't remember, when was the last time he experienced such joy. He was scared, yes he was scared of being happy. All he remembered was that he lived alone for years, without any feelings. Each day of these years, staying alone, he never felt happy, neither did he ever felt sad. Everyday, he lived there, he lived like a robot, with a daily routine as if programmed into him. Without any feelings, just plain numb.

He was scared now, scared to have feelings. He was bothered of being scared too. He felt an uneasiness, a restlessness, he couldn't think clearly. He wanted to run away, at the same time he wanted to lock himself up in a room.

He got up and went to his room, and sat on his rocking chair. He sat there the whole of morning, afternoon and evening, without moving, just rocking slowly in his chair and breathing slowly. Night had fallen, he did not get up from his chair, it was pitch dark in his house, he didn't move.