“You seem stressed”, a voice next to me half-whispered into my ear. I must’ve been crying or something. I was very stressed. I turned around and through my tears, I saw a blurred face of a man, who I recognised to be Pritish Nandy.  

We were on a flight to Delhi, and the funding for my film had just fallen through. That film was Twist With Destiny, which would later be known as Hazaaron Khwaishein Aisi. The guy, who was funding me, told me to f*** off, because it was too obtuse, too unlike anything else, too political, and not political enough, where the main girl character was a kind of a sl**.