We met before, remember?

No. She blurted out. Then she put a stop to her friend’s snickering with a friendly elbow.

I was lost for words, the cackle of the vendor- want some of these bhai?-, a smile on his face meaning I remember you though you might not, just the exact opposite of what happens in the big shops where you remember the shopkeeper at once as you enter his domain but he takes so long to put you in perspective from the last shopping you did there that if you decide not to buy anything then you might as well be nothing more than a speck of dust in his mind. All false pretences.

But here was a poor fellow who is all smiles, knows he has a hard day of work ahead, shooing away the dastardly street boys who would sneak away with whatever they can get their hands on, having to bear the wrath and scorn of people who takes his lapse in memory-one round of serving the puffed balls amiss- as something deliberate; it’s a consensus among people here that these people know such beguiling acts at the back of their heads, enacting them comes so easily and naturally to them; it’s one of the laws of nature, survival of the fittest!, otherwise how on earth are they suppose to feed their wives and children in an expensive city as this? So I had to agree fit in stands for foul play.