2. The portrait

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Elephantine trunks adorning the pillars, expensive black teak furniture embellishing the area, detailed ornamentations on the walls, paintings and sculptures depicting stories from Indian mythology, semi-precious gems embedded along the circumfere...

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Elephantine trunks adorning the pillars, expensive black teak furniture embellishing the area, detailed ornamentations on the walls, paintings and sculptures depicting stories from Indian mythology, semi-precious gems embedded along the circumference of the lotus-shaped domes—the interior of the edifice was screaming royalty and stateliness. With mirrors decorating the ceiling and a mighty chandelier hanging low, swaying gently, the burning tapers placed on the ornate candelabra, and the squeaky clean floor reflecting her image, Shreya had no qualms in declaring the foyer of the palace resort to be nothing short of the most exceptional and exquisite thing she had ever seen.

She twirled around the entrance hall of the resort, and words of appreciation slipped past her lips as her gaze traversed far and back. The reception lounge was gorgeous. So was the mini-fountain spurting water in the middle of the hall right beneath the crystal chandelier. Persian handcrafted carpets lined the floor, and the white marble peaked from beneath wherever the matting was left out. She strolled along the circular chamber beyond the revolving doors of the resort's entrance, and the dome above her head had intricate paintings of Krishna disseminating teachings about life to Arjuna. She was able to discern the story all too well because of the numerous times her mother had narrated anecdotes from Mahabharata, the Hindu epic, to her.

The light fragrance of lilacs hanging in the misty surroundings soothed her senses. So did the crisp blast of air from the air-conditioning. Soft and traditional classical music played in the background, and all the LED lights on the ceiling illuminated every nook and cranny of the hall.

Her mouth was still agape, and she was in a state of awe as she rolled her bag behind her and ambled down the hall to edge closer to the reception counter. Three women clad in well-pleated and well-ironed magenta sarees were busy peering at their computer screens behind the counter, and the moment Shreya sauntered towards them, one of the trio instantly had the professional but affable smile on her face.

"Good afternoon, ma'am. How may I help you today?" the girl said.

Shreya cast one quick glance at the plaque attached to the girl's saree. Esha, it said. "Hi! I am Shreya Awasthy. I have a reservation for today."

Esha's fingers adroitly moved over the keyboard, and her brows furrowed in concentration while her gaze darted over the screen. She flashed another amiable smile at Shreya. "Can I see your identification, ma'am?"

Shreya rummaged through the sling bag around her shoulders and extricated her passport. Forwarding it to the receptionist, she tucked her hair behind her ears and hugged herself. She was feeling oddly out of place, for the magnanimous and sophisticated resort she was standing inside of was in stark contrast to the outfit she wore for the day—a pair of denim shorts, a tank top, and muddy sneakers. Even the receptionist was so immaculately dressed with her brows perfectly shaped and her hair neatly tied into a bun.

"You are all checked in, ma'am." Esha flashed her a vibrant smile after taking her eyes off the computer screen and passing the passport along with a pair of keycards to the angsty girl. "Our porter will guide you to your room. I hope you have a wonderful stay with us. Feel free to call the reception if you need anything. All the numbers are on the back of the keycard."

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