Yesterday afternoon I rode my bike on the way home at around 6 pm. While passing by the kindergarten I came across a beggar on the pavement, and he was dancing to the children’s music broadcast from the kindergarten. He showed me his back, so I couldn’t judge his age. He is short, in dirty oily red cotton clothes, and with tangled hair. He put all his stuff on his back and also some hanging off his neck all way down his chest. He was just dancing there, or rather swaying his delicate body to the simple rhythm, with his hands waving in the air. He seemed to have forgotten all his sorrows or misfortunes, and was clearly intoxicated himself. 

Judging from his clothes and the stuff he was carrying, this was the second time I had happened to meet him. It seemed that he was messing around in this area, wandering all days long.

In the cold winter people wear thick clothes, even complaining about the cold weather. We walk or drive or ride hurriedly home after work, and nobody wants to make a even longer pause halfway home. But the poor guy has no place to dwell, and no enough food to eat. And he is just hanging about here.

Once just after the night self-study lessons I saw him sleeping on the cover of a heat system pit, so that the leaking steam could warm him up.

Is life fair to him? I wonder it even now. But for him life is not far from satisfactory. Or he wouldn’t dance.

How many such beggars are living in the city? When luxurious cars are passing by him any time of the days and nights, do the people sitting inside take notice of such beggars? I am sure there are some government officials sitting inside the cars paying no heed to them at all at this point.

Definitely sure.