Bhopal, Bahroop and more

So many things are clouding my mind right now.
Characters from plays I have been part of are suddenly walking into my life. And I stand, gaping.
First there was Tsutsomu Yamaguchi. The man who survived the only two atom bombs ever used in history. And I always thought that Ennamen Kawaguchi in Badal Sircar's Teesvi Shatabdi was a figment of an exceptionally cynical playwright's imagination. I did not think Fate would cruel enough to let a person go through such tragedies. Imagine what a laugh Fate would be having to have seen Yamaguchi/Kawaguchi or many more such unnamed men and women escape the atom bomb at Hiroshima on August 6, 1945. And then what vile pleasure would be Fate's to guide them to Nagasaki, where a similar experience would be waiting for them. Is there a purpose in Fate? If yes, what is it?
Then there was Rajkumar Keswani and the Bhopal gas tragedy and the many people I encountered on my journey through reams of dialogues during the production of Bhopal Kyun/Yahan se Shahar ko Dekho. To have smelt a tragedy of enormous proportions six months to a year before it actually took place, and to have seen it and lived through it to tell the tale 25 years later.
What could have altered destiny? What was the purpose in so much destruction? It all seems so wanton now, when politicians haggle over the amount to be spent on a memorial to victimes without discussiong how much money should be spent on cleaning up toxic wastes that have been dumped at the same place over ages or how it should be done.
There must be a reason for everything no? For the people we meet, the choices we make, the place we are when we are, the things we do that we do.
Still searching for that reason.