How are you?

It was not all a good time to receive a call . The vegetable truck has arrived , some half an hour ago . Most of the small number of buyers are content to buy bread and milk . Ignoring the leaves poking out of the plastic milk boxes .

It is my turn to step into the barely visible chalk circle . A bad knee sprain has left me limping . Now my bathroom slippers gets caught in one of the gravels . Happens all the time with an injured leg . You just end up messing it further . With shooting pain clouding the details of shopping list in my mind , the phone rang .

“Hello ! may I know who’s speaking ? ”
This question unsettles me to no end , specially from unknown numbers . After strained introduction , the person spoke his name . It was an acquaintance from a remote past . A person whom I have seen just twice in my life . Both times fleetingly , at a dear family member’s funeral . I do not recollect his face . Just some sketchy details of his life . Wife , one son , businessman , suburbs .

“How are you ?”
A bead of sweat has trickled in the furrow of my upper lip beneath the mask , begging to itch /wipe . Can’t do either .

“I am fine . How are you ?” These are just pleasantries , they do not mean anything . “We are all going to die eventually ” The doomsday predictions ring in my ear . The itch gets stronger, the vendor gestures impatiently at the spinach and radish leaves crowding his seat .

I nod , wordlessly . He fills my bag with leaves . Now a radish leaf frond scrapes against my chin . More itching . I feel a sneeze coming on .