Today as I was cycling through the city, I looked up and realised that it was a fine day.

The sun was warm but not scorching, bright but not blinding. On the sidewalk, families and couples walked to and fro, and there was a sense of excitement in the air. A little boy, happily slamming the traffic light button with his fist, with his mother shaking her head; a girl, cautiously approaching another girl reading a book, and tapping her on the shoulder, and the two, recognising each other, sharing hugs and yelps of elation; an old couple, walking nearby, nearly knocked over by the ferocity of this hugging, but smiling in light of the girls’ apologies, saying, “have a great day.”

The traffic light turned green, and as I pedalled off, the road felt firm and responsive, my legs felt strong and awake, and I felt like I could dance with my bike up and down the street. As I took a deep breath, I smelt something unusual: fried chicken. I looked to my right and saw the door to a fast food joint had just swung open. The waiter, ready to usher new customers in, caught my glance. We shared a smile.