Everything happens for a reason. That’s what they say, don’t they? A bird shits on you before an important presentation because that shirt you were wearing was actually so see-through and you only realised it when you went back home and changed. Or you miss your flight because there was going to be a drunk man who pees on passengers and you were going to be seated right next to him. And, so, fate intervenes and sprinkles something bad in your life to prevent something much worse from happening – and when you look back, you have to be grateful for the bad stuff, too.

That’s how I have always explained away the disasters of my life. But there is no way to explain something like this happening without it seeming like the gods are doing it for some mirch-masala, for TRP, or for some cheap ent

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