As Sir PM headed towards his friend, Lady Flora, he could spot that she was annoyed despite wearing a face mask. Her forehead was twitchy and tense. Her wide, round chestnut brown eyes were giving him the GLARE. In panic mode, he thought of doing what he did best - pretend like he had not figured it out, and yes, talk about the weather. "Happy Sunday, my lady. Hope the inclement weather isn't upsetting your routine. It's that unpleasant month of the year – October – when rain, shine and storm show up in unpredictable ways," he said, trying to distract her. Lady Flora was unmoved. She turned the other side. This, he couldn't ignore, so he went back to his old, worried avatar: "Is anything the matter? You seem upset about something...?"

Lady Flora is furious

"Pheroze…" Lady Flora thundered, "I'm disappointed in your judgement. Of all the people, I wasn't expecting you to join this bandwagon of covidiots." Sir PM's face turned into a whiter shade of pale. "Lady, what are you talking about? Did I do something to offend you or someone else, for you to cast such aspersions on my character?" A tense minute of silence followed; it was broken by Lady Flora's sharp reply, "I spotted you the other day around Ballard Estate; you were hanging around a group of Indian tourists who were part of a walking tour. I noticed that you weren't following social distancing norms. I saw how you tried to get as close as possible to the guide and some of those participants who were carrying those fancy large cameras. What were you trying to achieve, really?" Sir PM looked stunned. 'How did she spot me, that hawk eye?' He told himself, quickly trying to salvage the situation, "You got it all wrong. I am hard of hearing. So I had to take that extra effort to catch every word of the guide. And about the cameras; well, I was hoping I would 'accidentally' be part of at least one photo with the Port Trust Memorial, or even Britannia & Co. It was a bad idea."