LIFE IN STORIES : BY WILLIAMSJI MAVELI

BLUE POOL BEAUTY
Day One dawned crisp and bright at the Grand Azure Hotel, the venue for the prestigious “International Starlet” pageant. Shweta, a vision of poise and determination, woke before the sun even thought about peeking over the horizon. The "blue pools of beauty," as the hotel staff jokingly called the sprawling interconnected pools, were already abuzz. Other contestants, a kaleidoscope of nationalities and personalities, were starting their day.
Some, still bleary-eyed, sipped herbal teas and compared notes on jet lag. A bubbly Brazilian girl named Isabella practiced her samba steps in the shallow end, her laughter echoing across the water. A quiet, studious-looking contestant from Japan, Akari, meticulously reviewed a thick binder, presumably filled with pageant tips and tricks. The air was thick with the sweet scent of exotic lotions and the nervous energy that precedes a big event.
Shweta, though equally excited, maintained a serene composure. She slipped into the cool water, the azure tiles shimmering beneath her. As she swam, she overheard snippets of conversations. "My gown is being flown in from Paris; it's absolutely breathtaking!" one contestant gushed to another. "I'm so nervous about the talent portion," another confided, her voice trembling slightly. Shweta smiled inwardly. She was prepared, confident, and ready to embrace the challenge.
The morning progressed in a flurry of activity. Contestants, clad in colorful swimsuits and sarongs, moved between the pools, the breakfast buffet, and the makeshift styling stations set up poolside. Wet hair was tossed, laughter mingled with nervous chatter, and the click of camera shutters punctuated the air. Shweta, with her natural grace and radiant smile, was a magnet for attention. Even in a simple cotton robe, she exuded an undeniable star quality.
As the sun climbed higher, the atmosphere intensified. The initial casual camaraderie gave way to a more focused, competitive spirit. Eyes began to assess, comparisons were silently drawn, and the undercurrent of ambition became palpable. Shweta, though aware of the competition, remained grounded. She knew her strength lay in her authenticity and her genuine passion for the pageant's ideals.
Finally, the call came. It was time for individual room assignments for hair and makeup. Shweta, along with the other contestants, gathered their belongings and headed towards the hotel's elegant suites. As she walked, she glanced back at the "blue pools of beauty," now bathed in the golden light of the late morning. The real competition was about to begin, and Shweta was ready to shine.
WILLIAMSJI MAVELI