I grew up in the Byculla of ’80s and ’90s, in middle-class insularity on the fringes of the gangland. Yet, I do not recognise the boys of Sacred Games. And I knew them well. They came to collect donations for Navratri and Ganpati, and they didn’t use creative expletives like the L-word.

As women, we learn to develop a kind of “minority report” attitude to men who enter our stratosphere, judging them for their future predatory potential before we allow ourselves to feel safe in their presence. How many missed opportunities are there to account for?

I cannot say I am proud to be Muslim because what pride is there in something that was thrust upon you. But I will say that I am no longer ashamed to be marked as Muslim.