Dil Beparwah | ✔

thirty

||CHAPTER 30||
《¤》

┊V A R U N┊

Thump of a stamp, dazzling smiles on command. "Welcome aboard, Sir, Ma'am. Please leave your luggage here, it will be in your cabin shortly. Wish you a pleasant stay!"

The blue sea glistened brightly, twinkling rapid diamond tips to reflect the sun. Yachts and steamers with the logo of Deewan Group of Companies dotted the waters surrounding the floating vessel, drones and cameras filming from picturesque angles. Several media trucks had lined up outside the cruise terminus, recording clips of the star-studded passengers entering the ship, interviewing new-age influencers and content creators, flashing their media badges to gain access to the pre-sail mini press conference. I had to exchange nods of recognition with a few, journalists I worked with in the past and channels I had done ground reporting for.

The gangway led to the forecastle of the massive ship, and up on the deck, everything was four times noisier, bustling with activity. The ship was massive, had 17 decks and was expected to house about two thousand passengers including crew members. Compared to the merchant naval excursions my father used to take us on, this surely was something to marvel upon.

Esha giggled beside me. Her face was hidden behind the camera, snapping pictures of the sea. What Mickey had failed to mention before handing me the invite, she more than compensated by her chirpy presence. Out of every opportune journalist he could have backed, she had to be the one representing BizNest.

"Celebrities on the ship, Malhotra," he had repeated. "Two of whom she shares a cordial acquaintance with. You think a ship review is going to get us more stats than a scandalous affair?"

Of course I had protested, that kind of news was supposed to stick to her weekly section, not become our main focus. Besides, there were going to be well-known businessmen, those who didn't easily agree to speak to the media.

For the past half an hour, all she could ramble about non-stop was some come-back show a make-up brand owner was setting up for Sanaya Gupta to pick her up from the apparent defamation.

"...that's just a hear-say though," she admitted, finally stepping on the deck. "Guess we'll find out in time if it's true or not! Whoa—"

The lobby was dripping with state-of-the-art luxury. Giant acrylic balls suspended from the ceiling ascended over an artistic tangle of metallic sculpture, hovering as it spiraled. Water sprung out from inside it, lights dancing off its surface and refracting through glass miniatures of the center attraction. The setting sun cast a warm glow through the sunroof and surrounding walls.

I could count nine floors which had the lobby in its open view, and guests were already exploring the amenities the cruise offered. Floor maps and guides frequented every alternate pillar, charting out the activities on each deck. The place was brimming with the country's business families, ancestral and rising alike. The hierarchy though, didn't need that close of an inspection.

"Maybe the rumors were false," Esha murmured. "The Guptas are at the lounge, and over there, that's the sister with Arvika."

A wide, sleek, copperish DEEV glowed at the busy reception desk behind the fountain. Greetings were loud, but the only thing I could make out was the salacious curve of her shoulder, the nervous flutter of the sari, the crinkle of her lips masking a frown as she whispered something to her assistant-Maya, wasn't it? Her chin bobbed at her response, fingers coming up to push a few strands of hair behind her ear, until her eyes were on me, undoubtedly.