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As a millennial, it is almost ingrained in my every breath to look at travel from the sole lens of 'how good would it look on Instagram?'. Travelling for the sheer love of it is now a passé and "wanderlust" now is simply what we millennials would call #goals. So, when it came to planning our annual family vacation, I couldn't help but pitch ideas that would aid my ulterior motive of Instagram worthy moments. But paying no heed to my numerous recommendations, my family decided to take a road trip to a nearby forgotten town called Nawalgarh in Rajasthan. As I took turns between driving and putting my head out of the window, I also took turns complaining to me family and sulking. 'Why couldn't have we gone to an exotic location?', I asked my mother. She gave me a stern reply, 'Look around you young lady, this is exotic.' I sighed with sheer exasperation. We reached our heritage hotel- a yesteryear palace turned hotel and it was hard not to marvel at how such an insignificant town could be home to such royalty. Everything from the humongous yet intricately designed main gate, to the furniture in the rooms, from the huge portraits of the royalty that once walked these halls, to the many artefacts of the war that causally lay around, all gave one a glimpse into what a truly rich heritage our country boasts of. When I took a moment’s respite from capturing it all on my camera, I just took it all in. Maybe my mother was right. This was as exotic as exotic could be. There wasn’t much to do in Nawalgarh. Outside of admiring the time capsule that the hotel had successfully created, the town didn’t have much to boast of. But I decided to give this quaint town a chance. I wandered off to the nearby market without any expectations. As I wandered the crowded streets, bumping into people, cows and bicycles, I realised that this was a town that lived in its past as much as it did in the present. The women with their faces covered by their sarees, sat in the courtyards of their homes watching videos on their phones. The butch, moustached men smoking their hookahs, adorned the entrance of shops but spoke perfect English to all those who didn’t understand the local language. This town was a living contradiction. As I moved from one narrow lane to another, I stumbled upon this tiny shop that sold bangles. What attracted me to it wasn’t the colourful array of stacked bangles but the fact that the shop owner was sitting outside and making the lacquer bangles from scratch. I was fascinated. How was he doing this? In a space that was encroached by people, animals and vehicles alike, he sat there composed, taking measurements of wrists and colour preferences for the bangle he was going to create. I found it fascinating. Here was a town, half history half sleepy and yet here he was, creating something so beautiful. And somewhere that was India in a nutshell. No matter what the chaos, no matter what the present, India weaves its past into its tapestry, puts its head down and continues creating beauty. And as I walked back to the hotel, I realised that this is what I didn’t expect. Beauty in an impossible situation, beauty in the face of nothingness. In my pursuit of finding an Instagram worthy moment, I found a microcosm of my country in a small, unheard town.