Mummy and Daddy attended my graduation ceremony, then flew to Bombay. And I, portfolio in hand, went over to Yves Saint Laurent. The lady elegantly flipped through the sketches. 'Ca, j'aime bien.' Outside, a bee was crashing repeatedly against the glass of the window. The silence was excruciating. After looking at the sketches for a second time, she looked up, hot pink YSL-colour stained lips parted into a smile. 'You have talent, Monsieur Rodricks. It is obvious that you will be a good designer.

But I have a question. Why can't I see your fabulous country in your clothes? Monsieur Saint Laurent can design these dresses, jackets and gowns, n'est ce pas? Why will he need you? Unless you bring the Indian exotica into your work?'