The University

Anjana was spell bound looking at the intricate designs etched on the tile of the floor; the magnificent artwork displayed on the walls; the exquisite skill of the sculptors who poured their hearts out in carving out the history of the place on the pillars and roofs that were an engineering marvel. She and her chaperone finally reached an imposing yet reassuring room.

The girl knocked on the door. “Come in!” a deep voice answered. Anjana was led into the room that was – let us say – austere. That was the kind of simplistic art that was open to a variety of impressions. Some would think it was too poor; some others would consider it to be an indication of the person’s temperament; still others would feel the person behind the chair lacked class.