It all starts with a bizarre accident . . .

I had no clue that within the next hour my life was about to take a dramatic turn. The bizarre incident struck so unexpectedly that it left me dazed and fighting for breath. Literally.

In my mother tongue, a little-known Indian language called Konkani, this type of rare occurrence is sometimes referred to as nasheeba khéloo. Destiny’s game.

I’d heard of epiphanies and traumas changing people’s lives in a flash. I’d known one or two individuals who had either plunged into misfortune or zoomed into orbit because of a single momentous event, but I couldn’t believe my experience could match or even outdo theirs to some degree.

Those kinds of outlandish things happened to others, in my opinion. Ordinary folks like me were exempt from such encounters. Or maybe not.

One minute I was striding forward, trying to maintain my best “smart marketing-public relations executive” image, and in the next I was falling on my back, arms flailing, my short skirt riding upward, providing the shocked people gathering around me an unobstructed view of my underwear.

Sheer humiliation. Well, at least I’d had the sense to wear my best panties, the ones I’d splurged on at Victoria’s Secret.

It had started out as a normal day. I had strolled into my sixth-floor office in the multi-story building in Princeton Junction, New Jersey, like I did each weekday morning. Granted, I had an important meeting later that day, and I was uptight about it. I was to meet our highly respected president and CEO for the first time since I’d joined the company with the odd name of Rathnaya, Incorporated.

After my shower that morning I’d taken extra care with my hair and makeup. Then I’d silently offered my prayers before the altar. When it came to important business meetings, I didn’t like leaving anything to chance.

Like my great-uncle from India always said, “Prepare yourself well for any kind of catastrophe, but always be sure to pray to Lord Ganesh. Think of the elephant-headed god as your insurance agent.” It was no coincidence that my great uncle was named Ganesh. He also happened to be an insurance agent for the Life Insurance Corporation of India.

By the time I’d gotten to the altar my mother had already finished her daily puja—ceremonial Hindu worship. Mom prayed every morning before breakfast. Despite being a modern woman and a medical doctor, she followed the old-fashioned custom of not eating or drinking anything before offering the day’s first prayer.

She had placed a single yellow chrysanthemum on top of each of the idols of all her gods and goddesses. The oil-soaked cotton wick in the silver lamp had burned itself out.

Unfortunately I wasn’t all that fervent about my Hindu faith. I went to the altar every now and then—when I needed a little extra help from above—like today.

After praying I’d felt much calmer. So what if I had to face the head of the company for the first time? I was a professional and could handle most anything. Or so I thought.