And so, this is a column about #MeToo. Obviously I'm on the side of the ladies, that's a given. But as we go forward, and more skeletons tumble out of the cupboard, and more women step forward to name their tormentors, there is some stuff I'd like to understand. Ladies, please to excuse, I am just exploring, asking some questions. Cool? May I? Just need some clarity.

There was a time, when a casting couch existed in a distant trailer in Filmcity in Goregaon, for example: a hapless junior artiste/dancer at the mercy of a director. This existed in a pre-mobile, pre-WhatsApp time. Sexual exploitation seemed like something that didn't happen in the general world. Call it denial, but that's just the way it was.