We are all, at some fleeting midnight, the Laila between the Tata and the Birla.
And as long as India dreams of breaking out of its neatly labeled boxes, the phrase will endure. It will be whispered in boardrooms. It will be shouted in chai shops. It will be written in the margins of engineering textbooks.
In a country obsessed with hierarchy, status, and surnames, one fictional woman refuses to stay in her lane. By Senior Features Correspondent