
The golden sands of Jaisalmer stretched endlessly outside, but inside Maheshwari Couture, the world felt like a storm of silk, sketches and sharp deadlines. The morning light slanted through the tall arched windows of Miraya Maheshwari’s office, scattering patterns across the floor where rolls of fabric lay unrolled like restless rivers.
Miraya sat at her wide mahogany desk, sleeves rolled up, hair pulled into a sleek bun that had started to loosen with the hours. In front of her, half a dozen sketches spilled across the table—intricate silhouettes, dramatic sleeves and bold cuts that would soon demand life from the finest chiffons, organzas and raw silks. Paris Fashion Week loomed like a towering deadline and the Maheshwari name would not walk those runways on anything less than brilliance.



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